and moaned. Joe kissed them again. He bit down hard on one of her buttocks, drawing blood, and then sucked it until it bruised. Selene screamed. It sounded like ecstasy. Joe licked the cleft between her buttocks, which sent another shiver through her, and then he wriggled his tongue deep into her clenched anus.
He could feel her tense and then begin to shake and thrash. Her body went wild as he fucked her tight ass with his tongue and then with a cock the length and girth of an infant’s arm. He bit down on the back of Selene’s neck like a mating lion as he thrust deep inside her, slow and easy at first and then with increasing force and urgency, racing toward orgasm. Joe ejaculated silently— alone—in his cell. His seed shot up onto his stomach and chest. He still gripped Selene’s letter in his hand, unopened. As he lay panting on the bed with his back pressed against the hard concrete wall, he marveled at the fact that he was able to reach orgasm without a single violent thought. Perhaps the professor’s treatments were working after all.
He picked up a few sheets of loose leaf from a stack on the floor by his bed and used them to wipe the semen from his hard, striated abdominal muscles and then placed each sheet on the floor to dry. He would use those to write her back.
There was no delaying it any longer now. It was time to read Selene’s letter. If the perverted guards were still watching after he’d masturbated, at least they wouldn’t think that it was something in the letter that was getting him off. If they ever thought that, Joe was certain the letters would suddenly stop coming.
Joe ripped open the pink, perfume-and-pussy-scented envelope. Selene’s neat, elegant handwriting greeted him. Joe was aware that his isolation from the rest of the world was affecting his perspective. He was aware that he was grateful for any contact with a woman and writing letters to someone you couldn’t see or touch was different than having a conversation with someone sitting in front of you. Letters could be rewritten a dozen times to get just the right wording. In real life, people were rarely so thoughtful and eloquent. In real life, there were myriad distractions—work, friends, family, and other women. Locked up, there was no one for Joe to think about but Selene. She had his undivided attention. As a result, the amorous emotions he was developing toward her were highly suspect though no less profound. He had to work hard to suppress them, but it was getting harder and harder each day.
This was why so many lonely women wrote to men in prison. An inmate was a captive audience. There was no competition for an inmate’s affections. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. Despite Joe’s attempts at caution, he sucked in a deep breath and his chest and face flushed with warmth when he read the first words of the letter.
Dear Joseph,
I LOVE YOU!!! I know we haven’t spent much time together, but I feel like I’ve known you for a lifetime. I still have the painting you did for me when we first met at the university and all the sketches you’ve done since (including the naughty ones. Tee hee!) You are such an amazing artist. So full of passion! It still blows me away that I could inspire that in someone. I wish it had been me (redacted). I would want nothing more than to feed your tremendous appetite.
I had a dream about you the other day. In the dream, I was lain out on a table and you were—(redacted)
I have been thinking hard about your request and I would LOVE to help. It’s funny, because I’d been trying hard to think of ways for us to be together and everything I could imagine was just … well … extreme. I’ve hired a lawyer to help. I never told you, but my family has a bit of money. That’s how I was able to come see you before they banned me. My dad gave me the money for the plane ticket. I just work as a model because I think I should make my own money. You want to know something funny? I
He could feel her tense and then begin to shake and thrash. Her body went wild as he fucked her tight ass with his tongue and then with a cock the length and girth of an infant’s arm. He bit down on the back of Selene’s neck like a mating lion as he thrust deep inside her, slow and easy at first and then with increasing force and urgency, racing toward orgasm. Joe ejaculated silently— alone—in his cell. His seed shot up onto his stomach and chest. He still gripped Selene’s letter in his hand, unopened. As he lay panting on the bed with his back pressed against the hard concrete wall, he marveled at the fact that he was able to reach orgasm without a single violent thought. Perhaps the professor’s treatments were working after all.
He picked up a few sheets of loose leaf from a stack on the floor by his bed and used them to wipe the semen from his hard, striated abdominal muscles and then placed each sheet on the floor to dry. He would use those to write her back.
There was no delaying it any longer now. It was time to read Selene’s letter. If the perverted guards were still watching after he’d masturbated, at least they wouldn’t think that it was something in the letter that was getting him off. If they ever thought that, Joe was certain the letters would suddenly stop coming.
Joe ripped open the pink, perfume-and-pussy-scented envelope. Selene’s neat, elegant handwriting greeted him. Joe was aware that his isolation from the rest of the world was affecting his perspective. He was aware that he was grateful for any contact with a woman and writing letters to someone you couldn’t see or touch was different than having a conversation with someone sitting in front of you. Letters could be rewritten a dozen times to get just the right wording. In real life, people were rarely so thoughtful and eloquent. In real life, there were myriad distractions—work, friends, family, and other women. Locked up, there was no one for Joe to think about but Selene. She had his undivided attention. As a result, the amorous emotions he was developing toward her were highly suspect though no less profound. He had to work hard to suppress them, but it was getting harder and harder each day.
This was why so many lonely women wrote to men in prison. An inmate was a captive audience. There was no competition for an inmate’s affections. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. Despite Joe’s attempts at caution, he sucked in a deep breath and his chest and face flushed with warmth when he read the first words of the letter.
Dear Joseph,
I LOVE YOU!!! I know we haven’t spent much time together, but I feel like I’ve known you for a lifetime. I still have the painting you did for me when we first met at the university and all the sketches you’ve done since (including the naughty ones. Tee hee!) You are such an amazing artist. So full of passion! It still blows me away that I could inspire that in someone. I wish it had been me (redacted). I would want nothing more than to feed your tremendous appetite.
I had a dream about you the other day. In the dream, I was lain out on a table and you were—(redacted)
I have been thinking hard about your request and I would LOVE to help. It’s funny, because I’d been trying hard to think of ways for us to be together and everything I could imagine was just … well … extreme. I’ve hired a lawyer to help. I never told you, but my family has a bit of money. That’s how I was able to come see you before they banned me. My dad gave me the money for the plane ticket. I just work as a model because I think I should make my own money. You want to know something funny? I
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