Need a hand?

“Sorry. Can you hold it still? If you don’t, I’m likely to pee on myself and the bed.”

He could see the war in her eyes. On the one hand it was highly inappropriate. On the other, she may not get the chance to feel a cock as large as his again.

Damien could see the war raging in her eyes as her left hand inches closer to his cock, her wedding ring glinting in the artificial light.

Damien kept his eyes on her and felt, rather than saw, her small hand grasp him, her fingers wrapped around the shaft.

She began stroking him. She knew that he didn’t need to piss, and she didn’t care. She stroked it with her left hand for a few seconds and then shifting, she wrapped her right hand around it as well.

Damien watched the hungry look in her eyes as she stroked him, her hands a little rough without any lubricant.

“Spit on it.” Damien looked her into the eyes as she looked up, her face heating as she seemed to realize what she was doing.

Instead of spitting on it she backed away, resolve washing across her face.

“Ahem...that was... that’s enough. Let me know if you change your mind Inmate Cross.”

“If I help you, can we continue where we left off?”

“What? Oh.” Her face heated again. She frowned. “You won’t do it to save your own life, but you’ll snitch on a convict to get a hand job?”

“You misunderstand. I’ll manage this my own way with some minor help from you, and I’ll take care of your problem.”

Damien smiled. “But I won’t do it for just a handjob. I said we’d continue where we left off.” Damien grinned meaningfully.

“I’m not going to fuck you inmate.”

“The choice is yours of course. You’re the boss. But my way, you get rid of your problem - without a mess, and we both get what we want afterwards. Unless I misread that look on your face, you want to fuck me as much as I want to fuck you.”

She stared at him a while longer and then left without saying a word.

“See you soon.” He whispered.