Caught by the Convicts

I moan around the peak of Wendy’s breast, my hand grappling frantically with my zipper, a hoarse grunt leaving me when that heavy flesh is finally free.

I form a makeshift pussy with my fist and drill my dick into the opening, fucking it frantically, the way I’ve done so many times on my prison bed, pretending it’s another person. Klay. Wendy. Klay. Wendy. Pretending I’m giving them pleasure. The sounds of grunting and whimpering and slapping flesh fill the room

“Good man, Ruger. Doesn’t that feel much better?” Klay manages, struggling to breathe, his body riding Wendy’s without a hint of gentleness, his sweaty buttocks flexing, his tongue dragging upward a path between her jiggling tits. “Now put that big, dirty thing in her innocent little mouth.”

Maybe I should be humiliated by my reaction. The way I shudder and choke on my breath, burying my face in her sweet neck to try and anchor myself. But there’s no room for embarrassment here. There’s only reaching the summit and they are very close, very close. Wendy’s breathy cries are gaining momentum and Klay is pumping harder than before, his eyes squeezed shut. And they’re being generous enough to bring me along on the trip up the mountain and down the other side. I’m not going to squander the opportunity.

Wendy’s eyes welcome me as I walk forward on my knees and push my dripping cock into her beautiful mouth, shouting a curse when her tongue wraps around me. Her hands are still pinned above her head and Jesus help me, it’s like she’s at my mercy. There’s no barrier to stop me from taking a fist full of her hair and turning it to the side, fucking my shaft deep into the warmth of her perfect mouth, watching her lips plump and strain in order to take me.

I’ve been denied sex all my life because of my size. Because I’m not pretty to look at.

Now this princess, this angel, is accepting me and I’m dizzy with gratitude. With unspent desire. With affection and lust for this girl as I position myself right in front of her face and fill her throat with my too-big cock.

She moans for it.

Moans.

Sucks me eagerly as I pull out, crying out happily when I sink balls deep again.

“Does it taste as good as it looks, Wendy?” Klay asks hoarsely.

Her head nods up and down on the pillow, eyes smoky, tits shaking up and down.

“He’s been thinking of you all week, jacking and jacking when he thinks I’m asleep.” Klay wets his lips. “But you can’t beat off quietly with a cock that big, can you, Ruger?”

“No,” I pant, shame and gratification colliding inside of me. He called me big. He said it looks like it tastes good. And Wendy, she’s drawing on it eagerly, as if she agrees.

Jesus. Jesus. Am I dreaming?

“Look at that suckling little mouth of hers. If it’s half as sweet as this pussy, we’re both very lucky men.”

“Lucky,” I repeat raggedly, tunneling deep. So deep I almost feel ashamed of the liberties I’m taking. But I can’t stop. I can’t stop. I’m fucking her mouth now, sweating, animal noises coming from my mouth and come is beginning to rise, hot and sticky in my shaft. “Oh fuck. I…I’m going to come.”

Klay lets go of Wendy’s pinned wrists and grips her chin, tilting it up for me. “Do it. Look how bad she wants a taste. She’s gotten wetter since you’ve been in her mouth.”

That does it.

I sink home once final time and send my seed down her throat. It’s a pleasure I never could have believed. It rips through my muscles and chokes me. It blinds me, owns me. And it only grows more incredible when Klay massages Wendy’s throat and I feel that firm touch on my cock, all throughout my stomach and right in the center of my chest.

A roar leaves me, more moisture being enticed out of my balls.

When Wendy starts to moan around my shaft, I look down to find Klay playing with her clit, rubbing it in quick little circles until her hips become restless, lifting, twisting under the inundation of his thrusts—and then her eyes widen and she comes. Wanting to hear the scream of ecstasy, I pull my cock out of her mouth and witness her coming apart. She gasps, nails buried in Klay’s strong shoulders, eyes unseeing, thighs shaking.

Fucking glorious.

“Look at her. My God,” Klay breathes, his hips slapping deep—and he holds, a violent shudder carrying through his muscles, veins standing out on the side of his neck. “Fuck!”

I’ve seen Klay climax before. Often covertly. But out in the open like this, without hiding, it’s like watching a masterpiece being painted. All I can do is observe in awe as he falls forward onto Wendy and humps her ferociously, his teeth burying in the side of her neck, his hands yanking her knees high, up to her armpits and groaning long and loud until the final drop leaves him.