The left

Something about that butt on the left draws you to it. Also, there's something nice and poetic about being the last person to wall-fuck a convict before they're released. It's almost like you're really doing them a favor, being the one to earn their freedom for them.

You walk up close, taking everything in. Her bare feet. Her gently clenched hands. The way her tiny thongkini presses against her labia, creating a lewd cameltoe.

That thong is really dug in deep. You have to spread her fat cheeks with one hand, and pull the orange fabric out with the other, just to get access to her holes.

As soon as she feels your touch, she jumps. Or rather, she makes as much movement as someone strictly held in place at their waist, thighs, wrists and ankles can. Which isn't much, but is still enough to make it clear that she's freaking out.

"She really doesn't want to be here, does she." You say to yourself, but out loud.

"Would you?" The prison officer retorts.

Another good point. You think to yourself.

You try to push your thoughts about the lack of consent in this situation to the back of your mind, and focus on the hot aspects. There's a chick with a huge butt in front of her, and you're allowed to fuck it. Eleven other jealous, excited men are watching, rapidly growing more and more eager for their own turns. But none of them will get a turn with this beautiful bottom. No, this one is yours, and yours alone. After you've filled her with your spunk, she'll be let free.

There's no point in delaying any longer. You remove your pants, and swish out your rock hard cock. There's only one question left.