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“Oh, I’m just getting started.” Damon pushes my dress up over my hips to expose my bare ass to the world. Because, of course, I forewent panties again today. One last panty-free prison visit for the road.
He chuckles softly at finding me bare, and bites my shoulder, just hard enough to make me gasp. His fingers slide between us, spreading my pussy lips, as he starts to stroke my slit slowly, building the pressure inside my belly. I finish undoing his jeans and wriggle them down his hips, only to find him bare as well, no boxers beneath.
“I took a page out of your book, dirty girl,” he says with a smirk.
I grin and catch him in another long kiss, even as my fingers slide around his cock and start to stroke his long, velvety length. He’s already rock hard for me, and the feeling of his hard length, knowing that I have this effect on him, only makes me wetter.
He rolls his thumb across my clit, and I gasp into his mouth, which makes him laugh, a low, throaty sound that sets off a thunderstorm in my chest. “I love how wet you are for me, Ashley.”
“I love how hard you are for me,” I reply, sliding my hands along him, up and down, savoring his width, already picturing how it will feel when he spreads my pussy wide and thrusts his thick cock inside me.
“Tell me, how have you been spending your nights away from me?” He grips my hips, draws me down toward him, until my pussy is poised at the tip of his cock. I groan with want, but he doesn’t enter me, not yet. He starts to slowly stroke back and forth along my slit, coating the tip of his cock in my juices, pressing just hard enough that I can feel him almost, almost inside me, and it drives me wild with lust. “Have you been thinking about my cock? Wanting me to fuck you again?”
“Every night,” I confess, my voice a breath against his cheek.
He grins and bites at the edge of my jawline, right where it meets my neck. Hard enough to leave a mark this time. Hard enough to mark me as his. “Good. Do you touch yourself when you think about me?”
I swallow hard. Nod, just a little.
“Show me how you touch yourself.”
I lean back to catch his eye, and cast another glance around us at the car windows. But they’re completely foggy now, the heat inside the car competing with the air outside to shield us from the public view, at least a little bit. Still, if anyone walked too close, peered through the fog, curious about what was happening inside this idling car…
I decide I don’t care. Fuck it. A prison guard nearly walked in on me naked with this man—how much worse could it get? Besides, there’s something a little… exciting about knowing that we could get caught at any moment. So I lean back from Damon and slide one hand down the flat plane of my stomach, until my fingers are gliding across my shaven mound, and spreading my pussy lips.
He drinks me in with that hungry, insatiable stare of his that only makes this moment hotter. “You are so fucking sexy, Ashley,” he murmurs.
I grin as I circle my finger around my clit, pressing just hard enough to make it ache with want. “I’ve been doing this every night, Damon. Touching myself, and wishing it was you. Remembering all the things you did to me in that visitation room…”
He slides a hand up to grip his cock, and starts to stroke himself as well, eyes still locked on me. “Every night in my bunk, I thought about that sexy, tight little pussy of yours. I thought about fucking you on top of me, your big tits bouncing. I thought about pinning you against the wall and taking what I want from you.”
I gasp a little as my fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot. My head tilts back, though I try to keep my gaze locked on his, as I finger myself faster now. “I think about your big cock inside me, how you make me stretch and ache so fucking good.”
“I think about bending you across the desk of my bunk and fucking you from behind. Filling you with my cum, and feeling your pussy tighten around me when you come, the way your voice gets so sexy when you scream.” His hand moves faster, pumping the length of his thick shaft. It’s so sexy to watch him get himself off—to know he did this every night while he thought about me. To know that I drive him this wild.
My breath hitches, and I slide one finger inside my pussy, feeling how wet I am, how close to the edge. I’m nearing it, about to climax…
When Damon grabs my hands and pins them behind me in a single fist. I gasp in protest at first, but that quickly shifts into a long, drawn-out moan as he pulls me forward, onto his lap, and presses his cock against my pussy once more. This time he doesn’t tease. He’s too hungry for me. The same way I ache for him.
He pushes the tip of his cock between my lips, thrusting into my pussy inch by inch. I cry out at the sensation of him filling me so completely, stretching my walls wide as they accommodate his girth. He doesn’t stop drawing me down onto him until he’s fully inside me, his cock buried deep in my pussy. My clit, already swollen with want from both my ministrations and his, presses against his hip bones when I lean forward, and sets off a wildfire in my nerves.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me, you dirty girl.”
It doesn’t take long, with him thrusting up into me, and pulling me down against him at the same time, for that pressure to build toward a peak. Damon starts to move faster, fucking me harder, and I gasp and twist against him as his cock thrusts deep into me with each motion. He tilts his hips, angles himself so the head of his cock drags against my front inner wall, and with one last cry, I start to come, twisting on top of him.
But Damon is far from finished with me.
“God you’re so sexy when you scream.” He reaches up to yank off my dress, his fingers deftly undoing my bra before I can move. It falls between us, and he tosses it aside with a growl. He lifts both hands to grip my breasts and leans in to circle his tongue around first one nipple, then the other, making them harden beneath his warm, wet mouth. He bites down gently on my breast, just below the nipple, and I gasp at the mingled sensations of pain and pleasure. “I’m going to make you come over and over, until you can’t even think straight…”
He keeps thrusting into me, so hard it makes my breasts bounce against his face, and with his other hand, he caresses my mound, thumb just barely grazing my sensitive clit, though pressing hard enough to make me come again before I can even catch my breath from the first orgasm.
“That’s it, dirty girl. Come again for me, come hard…”
I lose count of how many times I come on top of him, caught between the sensations of his cock thrusting over my G-spot and his fingers caressing my clit. The orgasms blend together into one hot rush of pleasure in my memory, and then, eventually, I feel Damon start to tense under me. I arch my back and rock my hips against him harder, as he nears his own peak. He comes with a growl, his hot juices coating my pussy, dripping down my legs onto his thighs, and making us both gasp.
“Fuck, you were hungry,” I murmur into his neck with a faint laugh. He grins and nips my ear, then kisses his way along my jawline to catch my mouth in another long, slow, burning hot kiss.
“For you? Always.” His dark eyes snag mine as he says that, promising that he means it with every fiber of his being.
At that moment, someone knocks on the now thoroughly fogged windows. I gasp and grab for my shirt, while he laughs and shields me with his body, pulling me tight against him.
“Come on, what did I ask you two to do?” calls the prison guard through the window, though at least he has the decency not to wipe away the fog. “Get a room, not a ticket in this parking lot.”
We both laugh faintly, and Damon gazes down at my face with a sly smile. “Well, this is familiar.”
“We’re starting to make a habit of getting caught at this, aren’t we?” I grin back, and pull my dress on, trying to turn my mess of a body into some semblance of normalcy, for at least as long as it will take me to drive him home with me.
By the time I slide back into the driver’s seat and wipe the fog clear from the windows, the guard is back at his post, though he eyes us across the lot with a narrowed
glare. I wave cheerfully as we pull out of the parking lot, and I swear I catch him rolling his eyes in the rearview as we pull away.
“One question,” Damon asks, as we reach the stoplight down at the bottom of the prison exit.
I expect him to ask where we’re going, or what the plan is. The truth is, right now I don’t have one. The police are still cleaning out Dad’s files, but they’ve finished with the bedroom wing at least, and told me I can continue staying there as long as I don’t interfere with their investigation in the rest of the house—which I have no intention of doing, clearly. The more dirt they can find on my father, the better. He deserves to spend the rest of his miserable life behind bars for what he’s done.
