Model Prisoner Read Online M.K. Moore

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 9
Estimated words: 8480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 42(@200wpm)___ 34(@250wpm)___ 28(@300wpm)
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She reminds me of girls I knew growing up in McDonough, Georgia. I watch in abject horror, as Jack Kentrell saunters over to her table. I can’t hear what he’s saying but she’s not responding to him. He gives those Ponzi scheme guys a bad name and yet she doesn’t fall for his charms. Good girl, I think. Shaking my head, I push myself off of the wall I took up residence on and walk back to my office. I can’t kill an inmate for having the audacity to speak to her. I try to get my rage in check, but my cock is hard as a rock and I didn’t even talk to her.

Inside my office, I check the intake file put in my inbox. Today was a busy day. Three new male inmates but only her on the female side. I read the gist of her sentence and realize I have lots of time to make her mine, not that I plan on taking my time claiming her. Now, I don’t make a habit of fucking inmates under my care, hell I’ve never wasted my time on any woman before. I’ve never met one that made me crave more and I've technically not met this one yet, but my hard dick is telling me that doesn’t matter at all. Being a virgin at my age is not something I would advertise, but it does make things less complicated. I Google her and am met with a plethora of pictures of her. Each one of them makes me feel like she’s looking only at me. My hard-on becomes painful and so I do the only thing I can think of and pull my dick out of my pants. I jerk off fervently to thoughts of her, to these pictures of her in what I can only assume is meant to be underwear. I am seconds from coming when there is a brisk knock on my office door. Shit. I stop what I am doing, grab some hand sanitizer, and move closer to my desk.

“Come in,” I call out as I rub the sanitizer into my hands. Sure enough, the object my desire breezes in with Commander Jenkins.

“I’ll come back for her in twenty minutes, sir. I have to make my rounds now.” She always brings me the newbies. I am not sure what she thinks I do with them, but she never asks nor has there been any gossip about it. I just introduce myself and let them know the rules in a nicer manner than they were explained while getting a full body cavity search.

“Thank you, Commander,” I say, and she shuts the door. Welcome to Santa Rosita, Ms. Winston.”

“Vickie is fine and thank you, I think,” she says, trying to smile, but can’t muster it.

“Victoria. I am Warden Sinclair, but everybody calls me Earl.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Earl,” she says, her voice dripping like honey.

“So, I just wanted to take this opportunity to tell you the rules.”

“They told me earlier.”

“Even so, I see that you are a first-time offender, not even so much as a parking ticket. I imagine intake was quite an experience for you.”

“It was eye-opening, only a little worse than a random TSA search at the airport,” she says, finally rewarding me a smile.

“I bet. No shower, I assume.” She nods and I continue. “Anyhow, the rules are simple. No contraband, no fighting, and no disrespect. Can you handle that?”

“I can.”

“Have you been assigned a job yet?”

“A job?”

“Idle hands, Ms. Winston.”

“Are the devil’s playthings,” she says.

“That they are.”

“So, a job. I am afraid the only skills I possess are standing in front of a camera.” That gives me all kinds of ideas. My dick throbs underneath my desk.

“I could use a secretary,” I say, speaking the truth. Mine just went on her honeymoon and she’s not sure if she’s coming back yet. I was making do, but this could work. It could work very well indeed.

“Isn’t there some kind of hierarchy? People who have been here the longest get the cushy jobs?”

“No, Victoria,” I say, chuckling. A white lie to be sure, but no harm in that now. She sucks in a breath and I am captivated by her breast rising and falling beneath her black shirt. Her sexy ass glasses make her look like a librarian, but they keep sliding off of her nose. Every so often she pushes them back into place.

“What would my responsibilities be?” she asks, crossing her legs. A very practiced motion for her, I’m sure. I can barely think because she is so close. I clench my fists under my desk. All I can think about doing is tossing her down on the desk and having my way with her, but I can’t do that, not yet anyway.


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