Caught by the Convicts

by Jessa Kane

The guard hums, jingling the ring of keys in his hand. “This isn’t the usual procedure, you know. People meet their incarcerated loved ones through the glass partition in the secure visitors’ center. They don’t simply waltz into the holding area—” “Thank you. I’m aware this isn’t typical.” “Why are you insisting on doing it this way? Ain’t you scared?” Of course I’m scared. Sometimes I think I was born afraid.

I see a lot of people say it’s non realistic but she paid someone a favor to get into the holding area.. a client!!! Also women and children dress to the 9’s to visit their loved ones. The only thing you’re not allowed to wear is jewelry or anything that can be considered a weapon 😉

The man with the sharp, bloody object has almost reached me when I’m picked up and tossed over a large shoulder—and carted off into the fray.

“Fuck me,” mutters Day, a hint of England in his tone. “She’s downright adorable. And quite reckless, apparently, marching into this den of vipers in that…” His gaze ticks lower, his voice dropping along with it. “Obscenely form-fitting skirt.”

“Any man who reached the age of thirty without sampling pussy would be a beast. Now you’ve got this tasty little thing at your mercy and you want your first ride. Badly. No one blames you.”

“Do it,” Ruger groans, stepping forward. He lifts a hand, hesitates, then drags a featherlight touch down the side of my face. “Soft.”

“My father is a prisoner here. James O’Casey,” I whisper, drawing them both closer. They hold their breaths when I keep going. “He…he wasn’t good to me as a child.” To put it lightly. “When I finally got away at sixteen, he kept tracking me down, refusing to let me better myself. Stealing from me. Scaring off my friends. Once he even set my apartment on fire—while I was asleep.” I swallow hard. “He killed someone during an armed robbery and finally got sent away for good. I just needed to see him for myself. Behind bars. So I can stop being so scared.”

Spoiler alert 🚨

“It’s for both of you.”

Stupid stupid

“Fucking hell,” Klay grits out, tearing my panties off with a twist of his fist, tossing them aside. “She wants it.” He wraps his now-free hand around my throat. “That changes everything, Wendy. Now you get two cocks. Mine and Ruger’s.”

“You need to keep her,” Ruger says gruffly, meeting his cell mate’s eyes over my head. “Me too. It’s like there’s no choice. She’s…ours.”

Klay licks up the side of my neck, planting kisses beneath my ear. Ruger looks me right in the eye and guides his shaft between my legs, sweat trickling down the side of his face, bursts of animal grunts falling from his lips.

“Fucking hell, she’s coming, isn’t she?” Klay moans into the side of my neck. “I can feel her shaking. Don’t come yet, Ruger. She’s almost there.” “I can’t stop it,” he pants, slamming into me now, his thick, hair-covered body glistening with sweat. And somehow Ruger gets deeper. Goes harder. And he does it by gripping the sides of Klay’s jumpsuit to keep him steady for his ferocious drives, yanking him toward us in a furious rhythm—and all at once, a rush of pleasure sweeps me, tightening every nerve ending in my body like a bolt, my womanhood clamping down, a loud cry racing up my throat.

The last thing I see before disappearing around the corner is Klay, face down on the floor with his head turned, mouthing the words we’ll find you. The promise in his eyes makes me shiver. But in relief or trepidation? That’s the million-dollar question.

I pace in front of the bars, hands on top of my head, fingers buried in my hair. It feels as though someone has hollowed out my insides with an ice cream scooper.

Well damn

“I need to jack off again so I can concentrate and come up with a plan.” His throat bobs. “You want me to turn around?” I start to say yes. That’s our usual routine. When one of us needs to release the pressure, the other tries to give as much privacy as possible in a ten-by-ten cell. But after last week when we made eye contact over Wendy’s head while humping her like beasts, a barrier has fallen. We’ve seen each other in the fever pitch of arousal. Some of the mystery is gone and self-consciousness has been taken away along with it. “Would you…” I start to unfasten my jumpsuit, unable to look directly at Ruger while making my request. “Would you describe how it felt to fuck her while I…do it?”

“When we find her,” I say, my breath running short. “I’m going to spread her legs and ride that damp little fuck hole while you watch. I’ll be covered in her wetness and sweat and bite marks by the time it’s over. And you’re going to clean me up afterward.”

Jesus, between Klay and Wendy, the pike in my pants is never going to subside. I’m a downed power line, sparking and dancing on the sidewalk, in need of repair and they’re the only ones who can help me.

“I believe your exact words were, ‘get her back in this cell or I’ll gut you all like fish.’”

“Ruger, didn’t she leave a helping of cream all over your big dick?” “Yes,” I rasp, wetting my lips. Rubbing myself through the fly of my pants. Klay hums low and long, shifting his lower body against Wendy’s hips. Her breath catches. Stutters out. But she still twists, digging her heels into the bed in an attempt to gain her freedom. “I can’t. I c-can’t do this.”

“I know, baby, you’re ripe for fucking,” he rasps, trailing his mouth down her throat, back up to snare her lips. “Put my cock in, Ruger. Right where my fingers are.”

I move behind Klay, my hand shaking as I press a knee onto the edge of the bed and reach between his legs, gently fisting his thrumming shaft. Jesus. Jesus, it’s like hot steel, shaped like it has been sculpted by an artist. “Can I jack it a little?” God help me, those words are out of my mouth before I know what I’m saying. I watch tension ripple up Klay’s spine with a sense of dread and self-loathing. But then he grunts, “Just a little.” Oh my God.

“Prison bars can’t hold a man when pussy this hot and tiny is waiting on the outside. You should have been expecting us.”

“Ruger hasn’t been able to shut up about your sexy rack, Wendy, and good God, he wasn’t wrong. You’ve got tits like a spoiled daddy’s girl, don’t you?”

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?

Klay’s jaw looks ready to snap. Mine is much the same. God help this man if we ever come across him. I’ll strangle him with his entrails in her honor… The thought is halfway through my mind when I spy a duffel bag in the corner of the kitchen.

Power tickles the tips of my fingers. They flex around the bottle of lighter fluid. I’m not a destructive person, but I can’t deny the pressure that climbs my throat at Klay’s suggestion. Burn it all down. And I realize all along that’s what I’ve wanted. This place is symbolic of the pain. The past. The fact that it remains standing has been an offense to me. A needle jabbing into my throat. When I drive somewhere, I intentionally avoid this remote section of town. It has power over me.

Wtf 🤬

“Be rough. Our woman is the only soft we need. Our fuck is hard, understand? Man to man.” “Man to man,” Ruger repeats, looming behind Klay, forehead glistening with sweat. Big and wild. Finally set free. Given permission. He fumbles with the zipper of his pants. “I’d have sucked your dick for you in the showers, Klay,” he groans, his hand rifling up and down his stiffness, neck muscles straining. “I’d have sucked it in front of everyone.”

Wth 🤦🏽‍♀️

“I might have something to say about that,” says a familiar voice. “That child there is my property and it’s about damn time she comes home to earn her keep.” My father is standing in the doorway, his signature sneer twisting his features.

Best birthday ever. I don’t realize I’ve said the words out loud until Klay says, “You haven’t even gotten your present yet.” I’m pretty sure I have, because I’m in bed with the two most incredible people in the world, so I scoff. “Yes, I have.” “No,” Wendy says, licking into my mouth for a kiss, then pulling away just enough to lock me in her sights. “I stopped taking my birth control, Ruger.” She works her hips faster, faster, Klay bucking into her from above, his face contorted with desperation. “You’re going to breed me. You’re going to be the father of our child.”