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It had been an interesting two months. You were a prison guard at the detention center in a small city, and you had worked your ass off to be respected here, training during your off hours to become faster, stronger, better . Anyone, man or woman, couldn’t cross you and get away with it. For the past 3 years since you had graduated college, you busted your ass and became damn good at your job.
Then the feds dropped off a man here and the higher-ups, seeing all of your accomplishments, felt that you should be the one to watch him. The man had been gruff but polite, sarcastic in a charming way, and he physically looked like he stepped out of a spaghetti western; he walked with the gait of a man who knew himself, confident, yet self-aware of his faults. Dirty blonde hair framed his rugged jaw and feathered around his neck. He always had a five o’clock shadow, as if shaving only worked for three minutes. His shoulders and back were broad, tapering into a solid torso. But his eyes were what had caught your attention the most: they were a unique shade of bluish-green that reminded you of the ocean that you had seen once when you were younger.
The aggravating part of this development was the dreams you started having a couple weeks ago. A lot of them involved said prisoner, railing you on his cot in his cell. Or riding him in a hotel room. Or being on your knees, taking him in your mouth, gagging around his thick…
God. You needed to stop thinking about it, about him, about how long it had been since you had been with anyone, because most men were quickly dissuaded once they knew your profession and saw how little bullshit you tolerated. You’ve had five first dates in twice as many months, and they all ended poorly, and most didn’t even end in a goodbye kiss. Your friends concluded that you were too strong for those men; they couldn’t handle it with their fragile masculinity. Your friends also thought you needed a real man, a big guy from the countryside.
Well, the special prisoner was a big guy from the countryside; from what little information you were given, he was transferred here from a small town jail for burglary. There was some evidence of his connection to a larger crime syndicate, but it all seemed rather inconclusive.
The more pertinent issue at hand was that two weeks ago, you accidently saw him taking his shirt off, and you gaped like an idiot. Unfortunately, he had seen you at the same time, winking at you before walking further into the showers. You had seen plenty of men shirtless and it had not phased you before, so your body’s reaction was out of the ordinary, and very unwelcome. You found him attractive to an alarming degree. Since that day, the lurid dreams started.
You shook your head and focused on the task at hand. You had to escort him to the interrogation room tonight; a detective had arrived to ask him about his supposed affiliation with the Van der Linde family.
He looked up as you unlocked the jail cell. A wry smile appeared on his face as he greeted you with a wave of two fingers.
“Hey there,” he said in his gravelly voice. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling back; he was always polite to you, and lately, had become rather friendly. He had shared stories of his childhood and younger years, always vague on the details, but they were entertaining.
“Hi Arthur,” you said as neutrally as you could, despite your smile. “Need to take you to the interrogation room. A detective is here to talk to you.”
He scoffed. “More like talk at me,” he groaned. “Alright, I guess I don’t got a choice,” he said in a mix of southern and Texan drawl; you could listen to him talk all night, if you were honest with yourself. He stood and let you handcuff him, and walked before you out of his cell and towards the interrogation room. You watched him walk without any worry of being caught staring at his fine ass, since no one else was around. Arthur was wearing dark blue sweatpants and an athletic cut, light grey T-shirt that hugged his muscles just right. You swallowed, imagining those broad shoulders over you.
“Awful late, ain’t it?” he asked, turning his head to you as you guided him down another corridor. You quickly blinked and nodded as you shook yourself out of your reverie. It was quiet; most of the day workers had left, leaving just the night guards.
“Yeah, it was the only time the detective could make it. Let’s just get this over with so you can get some sleep.”
“Sure,” he said with that endearing accent of his, making it sound more like a ‘shoah’.
You took him into the interrogation room, gave him a cup of water, and left, waiting for the detective to show up. When he did, he introduced himself as Detective Milton, and barged into the room without waiting to be asked. You sighed, and went into the surveillance room next door to watch and record.
***
You hit the stop button as Milton left the other room to join you.
“You get all that?” He asked brusquely, not even looking at you; his eyes were on the back of Arthur’s head through the two-way mirror, glaring intensely.
“Yup. He either isn’t affiliated at all, or is far too affiliated, to the point where he’d die for them.”
“I thought as much.” He finally looked at you. “You have the recording?”
You silently handed him a flash drive and got up from the computer. “I’ll walk you out, unless you need something else?”
Detective Milton shook his head. “Nothing further tonight. I’ll see myself out.” He walked out briskly, but you followed him out of the room and watched him exit the building, the click of the lock echoing down the corridor.
You sighed and walked back into the interrogation room. You immediately noticed that Arthur wasn’t in the chair, and quickly turned to see him closing and locking the door behind you.
“Arthur?” you asked, squaring your shoulders and looking him straight in his beautiful eyes, trying to gauge the situation. He had been so well behaved the past two months. Had you misjudged him?
His lips curved up to one side, a smoldering smirk if you ever saw one. He slowly walked closer to you, his body moving with the grace of a panther. You took a step back and got into a defensive position. He held up his cuffed hands in a show of surrender, but he didn’t stop walking towards you until he stood toe to toe with you, looking down at you with a heat in his stare that you couldn’t ignore, and froze you to the spot. He slowly leaned down so his lips grazed your temple, then your earlobe. You shuddered at the ghost of a touch.
“Uncuff me,” he whispered into your ear. “I won’t bite, unless you want me to.”
Foolish. Why would you listen to him?
And yet your hands were already reaching for the keys, already uncuffing him. As the metal bands fell to the ground, the sound ringing in the room, you came back to your senses and realized what you had done. Looking up at him, you realized he hadn’t moved yet; he was waiting for you to make the first move. You took another step back.
He stepped forward, following you until your back hit the far wall. His hand came up to rest against the wall next to your face, trapping you in the corner. His other hand caressed your cheek, lifted your chin with his forefinger, forcing you to look up at him. His thumb brushed your lips.
“So pretty,” he whispered as he leaned in to steal a kiss. It was soft but full of heat and a carnal promise. When he pulled away, you let out a shuddering breath; your heart was trying to beat out of your chest.
“Stop,” you said, hating how your voice sounded so husky.
“I ain’t blind,” he said, the rough timbre of his voice stroking you intimately. “I seen how you look at me. How you watch me.”
“I’m supposed to watch you,” you tried to say in a gruff manner. You didn’t think you were very successful.
“When’s the last time you had a real man?” he rumbled, shifting closer to you, his chest just barely an inch away from yours.
“That’s personal!” you hissed, partially from embarrassment.
“Sorry, sweetheart. But when I see a fine woman like you, I have to take a chance.” He leaned down and kissed you again, and you moaned softly as his hand went from your chin to cradling your cheek. He kept kissing you, his hand roaming to the back of your neck, massaging your tense muscles as his other hand gripped your hip. His kiss was all-consuming, and you had to get away if you wanted to think properly.
“We can’t do this,” you said as you pulled away from him for air.
“Are the cameras recordin’ in here?”
You looked away. Shit. You had turned them off.
“So no one can see us?”
You kept looking away, but he saw the truth in your eyes.
“Take your clothes off.”
You looked back at him, shocked that he would ask such a thing.
He smiled, stepped back from you, and took his shirt off. You swallowed as he took your hands and placed them on his chest, and stepped closer to you again. He forced his knee between your legs, and you gasped at the contact. Leaning down to kiss your neck, he grabbed your ass and lifted you up easily, spreading your legs so he could grind himself against your core.
He was strong. Ridiculously, inhumanly strong.
And you immediately felt your pussy pulse in reaction to his body against yours. You cursed yourself inwardly, feeling your skin heat up, your nipples hardening. You ran your hands up his chest, around his shoulders and down his hard biceps, feeling his muscles as he held you up against the wall like you weighed nothing.
“I wanna feel your skin against mine,” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath sending shivers through you. “Unbutton your shirt for me.”
Something about his deep voice made you want to obey. You unbuttoned your tan, short sleeved shirt, letting it fall open. Arthur’s attention went straight to your chest, and he licked his lips as he slowly looked back up to you, a silent command in his eyes. Your bra was the front-clasp kind, and you unhooked that too, exposing your breasts to his hot gaze.
Setting you back onto your feet, he grabbed your breasts and kneaded them, teasing your nipples and watching you lean your head back and sigh. God, his touch set you on fire, jolts of pleasure coming from your hard buds as he pinched and squeezed them. He bent over and took one in his mouth, and you wrapped your arms around his head to keep him at your chest.
“So good,” you whispered. You heard him chuckle, felt it reverberate against you as he switched to your other nipple, licking and sucking hard enough to make you cry out softly with pleasure.
“It gets better,” he said, kneeling in front of you, his hands stroking your thighs. You got the idea and took off your duty belt, setting it safely down before unzipping your pants, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side. You were wearing just a simple pair of black panties and didn’t feel too sexy about it, but Arthur looked up at you with an excited heat in his eyes as he bit the waistband and pulled them down your thighs. He pulled them off the rest of the way with his hands, the heat from his fingers lingering on your skin. Then he guided one of your legs over his shoulder, caressing the underside of your calf.
Spreading your wet folds, Arthur immediately went for your clit, sucking hard. You cried out in surprise; the sudden pleasure that shot through your veins left you breathless.
After the initial attack, he backed off, licking gently as he slipped one finger slowly inside of you, testing your reaction. You were tight, since you hadn't had anything or anyone in a year.
“So tight, can't wait to take you.”
You blinked. How far were you going to let this go on?
Then he sucked on your clit again and you lost all rational thought. He pushed a second finger inside of you.
“You have any wild fantasies?” he asked while he teased your opening with his fingers.
It was hard to think about anything while he was building up the heated sensations between your legs. But one fantasy did come to mind.
“Had a neighbor when I was growing up. He was probably twenty years older than me, but I always fantasized about him.”
“Tell me more.”
“Bending me over his kitchen counter, taking me hard. Telling me I was a bad girl, spanking me.”
Arthur hummed, a wry grin on his face. He stood up, moving your leg off his shoulder. Then, with his eyes watching for your reaction, he pushed three fingers into you and smiled as you rode him, desperate for the contact.
“City boys out here ain’t gonna cut it for you. Sounds like you need an older man, someone to teach you some things,” he said in a low tone. He thumbed your clit as you rode his fingers, his other hand wrapped around your neck. “Ain’t that right, baby doll?”
You nodded.
“Call me Mr. Morgan.”
“Yes, Mr. Morgan.” Just saying it out loud made you more wet.
He kissed your cheek. “That’s my girl. Now, you do as I say, and I’ll make you feel good.” He shook you by the neck. ”You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I would, sir.”
He growled, pleased with your answer. He pulled his fingers out of you and forced them into your mouth. You instinctively licked them clean.
Then he took a step back and gestured at the ground. “Kneel.”
You got onto your knees and looked up at him, watching him tug his pants down, exposing the V of his hips. He pulled his cock out, giving you a smile as he noticed your eyes following his movements. His cock was just the right length, and thicker than any you had seen. He stroked it as he stared at you, reaching out to hold the back of your head.
“You know what to do,” he murmured. “Go on.”
You leaned forward and took his thick cock into your mouth, and he groaned, watching your lips wrap around him eagerly. Your dreams were no match for reality; he was hot as sin and worth breaking the rules.
Soon he couldn't control his hips as he started moving in short bursts, shoving his dick down your throat. You quickly adapted to his length, resisting your gag reflex and breathing through your nose. Then he suddenly grabbed your head in both hands and choked you on his cock as it hit the back of your throat. You gagged and made a high pitched sound of panic, and he let go of you, pushing you back.
Coughing, tears coming down, you looked up at him, wanting to feel anything other than lust. But when he kneeled down to slide your shirt and bra off your shoulders, you whimpered with desire as he caressed your cheek. Then when he picked you up, and forced you against the wall, you could only moan with wanton hunger. Spreading your legs, he aimed his thick shaft at your entrance.
“You wanna be a good girl?”
“Yes, Mr. Morgan,” you panted.
“Then you have to learn how to fuck,” he rumbled as he entered you. His thick cock forced your muscles to stretch around him. It hurt at first, as he slowly sank into you, every inch almost unbearable because of his girth. You pushed at him, willing him to slow down, to give you a moment to breathe, but he was far too strong, and kept moving forward until he was fully inside of you. Only then did he let you catch your breath, the pain giving way to pleasure as he thumbed your clit and pinched your nipples.
“There you go,” he crooned, watching you writhe against him, your fingers wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He started to pull out a bit, then thrust back in, making you thump against the wall. Again and again he did this, making a steady rhythm of his body against yours. He started to pull out more, ramming back into you with longer strokes, until he was practically re-entering you each time.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he growled against your cheek before kissing you, taking your mouth like a man starved for you. His tongue battled with yours as his thrusts overwhelmed you with their strength. What was air when you had Arthur's tongue in your mouth, his hand wrapped around your throat?
He turned his head to look behind him, then looked back at you. “Look in the mirror, sweetheart. Tell me what you see.”
You looked past his shoulder. You took it all in: his glorious body, his back covered in your scratch marks, your naked legs wrapped around his waist, his muscles flexing as he held you up against the wall. Watching his hips move in erotic motions against you, you moaned before you answered him.
“I see a hot man fucking me.”
Arthur laughed, a deep throaty laugh that made you squeeze your pussy around him. “I see my girl learning how to please a man.” Wrapping his arms around you tight, he walked backwards, forcing you to hold onto him as he sat down in one of the chairs.
“Now ride me.”
You quickly started moving your hips, gripping his shoulders for balance. Your tits bounced in front of him, and he shoved his face between them, biting and licking you.
“So obedient.” He grasped your hips as you grinded on his hard shaft. “Makin’ me feel so good. Tell me, how much do you like my dick inside you?”
“I love it, sir,” you breathed.
“That all?”
“I crave it, sir. I need you inside me.”
He smacked your ass, hard. “Beg for it.”
“Please, please, I’ll do anything, just please keep fucking me!”
His grip on your hips tightened, and he suddenly started thrusting up into you, fast and rough.
“Come for me,” he commanded, and you reached down to play with your clit, bringing yourself over the edge, looking down at him as a wave of pleasure crashed through you, your climax making you shake and moan, never wanting his cock to leave you. As your hips slowed and your breaths came back to normal, he lifted you off of him to stand for a moment as he stood with you.
Then he suddenly spun you around and bent you over the table, holding you down with his hand on the back of your neck, his other hand on your ass.
“I ain’t done with you,” he growled, and nudged your sensitive hole. You cried out as he rammed his cock back in swiftly, giving you no time to recover as he started to fuck you forcefully. He reached down and toyed with your clit again, bringing you quickly to the edge, and then stopping, bringing his hand back to your ass to slap you. He did this over and over, making you go crazy for want of completion. You begged and pleaded to come, but he ignored you.
After countless rounds of edging, he slowed his movements, making sure you felt every inch of him possessing your body. You turned your head to look in the mirror; he stood over you, one hand on the small of your back, holding you down, his other arm at his side, as he casually fucked your tight slit. You caught the look on his face, looking down at you with a lust that most men saved for porn stars.
“Just like tamin’ a horse back home,” he muttered as he moved his hips back and forth almost lazily, his cock stirring up your insides. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against your ear. “Lure her in, then ride her ‘til she breaks.”
He suddenly started moving at a breakneck pace, hammering his dick into you with wild abandon. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you still as he used your hole relentlessly. You reached back to try and slow him down, but he just grabbed both your wrists in one of his big hands and held them tight, while he reached down with his other hand to pinch and twist your sensitive nub until you cried out, coming undone, writhing and twisting under him.
“Gonna fill you up, baby girl,” he growled into your ear. You gasped and tried to break free.
“Wait,” you said, a bit frantic, “I’m not on the pill!”
He didn’t let you go; instead, he held you down and thrust harder. “Get some Plan B after this, then get yourself on the pill. Because we’re gonna be doin’ this a lot while I’m here.” As he reached over to wrap his hand around your mouth, he said in a low voice, “Now, shut up and take it like a good girl.”
Your cries were muffled by his big hand around your mouth as he pounded faster into you, his steady rhythm giving way to his mindless urge to breed you. He moaned into your ear and his thrusts slowed as he rammed his hips hard against your ass, shooting his hot load deep inside of you just as you came a third time, softly whimpering as you felt him finish. He finally stopped moving, staying in you for as long as he could, until he inevitably slipped out from your messy hole. He ran his fingers along the inside of your thigh, pushing some of his seed back into your pussy.
“Did you enjoy that?” he asked as he slowly coaxed you off the table and onto your knees in front of him. You looked up at him and nodded, your eyes glazed over from how hard you came, feeling somewhat guilty for getting off because of how he forced himself on you.
“Good. Now clean me up with that sweet mouth of yours.” He stepped forward, wrapping his hand around the back of your head and guiding you to his cock. You took him into your mouth and licked him clean, tasting his cum and your juices combined on his skin. Once he was clean, he tucked himself back into his jeans, and went to get his shirt off the ground, along with your clothes.
“Don’t clean up until you get home,” he ordered. “I want you to feel me dripping down your thighs as you leave tonight.”
You nodded, putting your clothes on quickly. You had to get out of here, had to take Arthur back to his cell, had to close up for the night in time for the next guard to take their shift. Had to put some distance from… all of this.
Then you looked up at Arthur, who was watching you carefully, as if he could read your mind. Wrapping his arms around you, he kissed the top of your head, like a lover.
“When I get out of here, you’re gonna invite me to your place, and I’ll show you a real good time,” he said, as if it had already been decided.
And you had every intention of obeying him.