Model Prisoner
Page 6
“Alright. See you then. I don’t mean to rush you, but it’s date night and Taryn advised me not to be late.”
“Understood, you mean threatened,” I say chuckling. “See ya tomorrow. Thanks for doing this.”
“No problem,” he says, and we shake hands before I leave.
I get back into my car and drive home. I already knew I half loved her, but I thought it was crazy. We’ve spent a day and a half together and I hated leaving her today. I want to go back and bring her to my office and keep her there. I know, legally she has to stay in the prison, but is there anything that says she has to remain in her cell, all alone.
Even I know this is dangerous territory, so I resolve myself to going home and going to bed knowing that tomorrow is another day. However, when I get home all I can think about is her. In the shower, I think about her, all the while I am steadily pumping my cock with one hand and using the other to prop myself up on the wall. When I come, I watch my seed swirl down the drain, vowing that’s the last fucking time I waste it. Sleep eludes me and, in the morning, I am exhausted but excited because I get to see her.
I am late for the first time ever, arriving at five after nine. She’s sitting behind my desk going through the pile of accumulated papers and other associated junk I haven’t organized in over six months.
“Good morning, sir,” she says, her voice sounding happier than it had been before.
“Good morning. Sorry I’m late. I brought you some Starbucks. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind?” I haven’t had any in months. I was on house arrest before my trial and then I was here. But gimme. I will happily drink whatever you have brought me.” I hand her the streaming hot coffee. I watch as she takes a sip. Her eyes fly to mine. “How did you know?” she asks.
“Know what?”
“That I take my coffee with cardamom and sugar?”
“I may have read that somewhere,” I say chuckling.
“Oh my God. It’s positively orgasmic,” she says then immediately blushes. “Not that I’d know.”
Is she saying what I think she’s saying? There is no fucking way a girl like her is untouched. A girl so fucking beautiful that it hurts to look at her.
“God,” I whisper.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have a foam mustache or something?”
“God, no. I was thinking things that I have no business thinking.”
“Like what?” she asks, licking her lips.
“Like what it would be like to kiss you again,” I say moving over to her.
“You can kiss me again,” she whispers.
Fate sealed, I pull her to her feet and invade her space. Our lips meet and I am eternally grateful that I shut my office door behind me. She pulls at my shirt trying to free it from my slacks. I step back to allow her to do what she wants to me. Gently, I pull her shirt over her head, being careful of her glasses. I go to take them off of her, but she stops me.
“What?”
“I can’t see a thing without them, and I have a feeling that I am going to want to see every little thing,” she says as she reaches behind her and takes her bra off, tossing it into the growing pile on the floor. She quickly steps out of her pants and panties. Then she’s standing naked in front of me. I quirk an eyebrow at her. “In the interest of saving time. You never know when someone will knock on your door.”
“Quite right,” I say, shedding my slacks, shoes and socks with surprising speed.
I lift her up and set her on my desk, her legs spread wide. Starting with her luscious lips, I kiss down her body until I reach her pussy. Dropping to my knees, I stare at her there. She moans when my tongue hits her clit, and soon I am fucking her with tongue like my dick is about to.
“Earl,” she whispers, mindful that we have to be quiet. “More, I need more,” she says pushing me away.
“For someone who needs more, you sure are pushing me away,” I say chuckling.
“Make me yours,” she says, reaching for my dick as soon as I stand up. Suddenly it’s no laughing matter. She strokes me a few times before guiding me to her pussy hole. Slowly, I enter her, her walls squeezing me as I go. I feel like I’ve died and gone to Heaven. I thought nothing could be this perfect, but it stand corrected. “I've never done this before.”
“Neither have I,” I groan as I reach her cherry. She looks at me and smiles but doesn’t say anything.