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BEHIND LOCKED DOORS PART VI
Last Updated:
2025-08-13 00:53:29
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WET DREAMS:A STEAMY COMPILATION BEHIND LOCKED DOORS PART VI
He rolled us over suddenly, pinning me beneath him on the mattress. His weight felt delicious, and I spread my legs eagerly to accommodate his hips. Lorenzo kissed me then, deep and filthy, his tongue delving into my mouth to claim me thoroughly. I could taste myself on him, and it only turned me on more. "I'm going to fuck you so hard," he promised, his voice rough with lust. "Gonna pound this tight little pussy until you're screaming my name." I moaned, arching up into him. "Yes, please. I want you so bad." He reached down between us, yanking his sweatpants down just enough to free his massive cock. It sprang out, slapping against his abs, and I licked my lips at the sight. He was even bigger than I'd imagined, thick and veiny, the head an angry purple and already leaking pre-cum. Lorenzo gripped himself in one large hand, rubbing the tip through my slick folds and coating himself in my juices. Then he notched himself at my entrance and pushed forward, breaching me with a singl
WET DREAMS:A STEAMY COMPILATION BEHIND LOCKED DOORS PART V
I moaned and whimpered as Lorenzo continued to suck and tease my nipple, his hot mouth sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core. When I thought I couldn't take anymore, he finally released my nipple and stood up from his knees.He looked down at me with an intensity that made my stomach twist and my knees feel unsteady. His eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them, almost black, and there was something wild in the way they held mine.It wasn’t just a look—it was a pull, like he was daring me to move, to speak, to do something… anything.He looked down at me with eyes filled with pure, unbridled desire, his gaze roaming over my exposed breasts hungrily. "Strip for me, little warden," he commanded in a low, husky voice. "I want to see all of you."I froze for a second, his words echoing in my head. Part of me wanted to snap back, to remind him who I was and who he was, but my voice stayed trapped in my throat. I could lose my job if I even entertained the thought of giving in. But
WET DREAMS:A STEAMY COMPILATION BEHIND LOCKED DOORS PART IV
The question hit me like a splash of cold water. I froze. My eyes went wide, and before I could stop it, heat rushed straight up my neck and into my face. My cheeks burned hot, and I knew I was blushing.I opened my mouth, ready to say something, but nothing came out at first. My thoughts were a mess, tumbling over each other. I couldn’t decide if I was more shocked that he’d asked… or more unsettled by the way he’d asked it.Finally, I found my voice—barely. “T-that’s none of your business,” I stammered. My words came out uneven and too fast. I tried to make my tone sound firm, but it sounded shaky instead. “It’s inappropriate. You’re a prisoner, and I’m your warden.”Even as I said it, I knew I wasn’t giving him the real answer. The truth was, I had never done anything like what he was hinting at, but there was no way I was going to admit that to him. Not when he was looking at me like that.He didn't say anything at first. Instead, he leaned in a bit closer, narrowing the space bet
WET DREAMS:A STEAMY COMPILATION BEHIND LOCKED DOORS PART III
That evening after dinner, I was tidying up some papers at my desk when the head warden came over. He didn’t knock or call my name—he just appeared beside me like a shadow.“Mr. Moretti is asking for you,” he said.I stopped what I was doing. The words didn’t register right away. “Sorry… what?”“He’s asking for you,” he repeated, slower this time.I just stared at him. My brain was trying to make sense of it. Prisoners didn’t just… ask for staff by name. Not unless there was a very good reason. And Mr. Moretti? Of all people?“Why?” I asked before I could stop myself.The head warden’s jaw moved like he was chewing on the question. Then he shook his head. “Don’t know.” He looked over my shoulder at the papers I’d been sorting, like the conversation was already over. “You have to go to his cell.”There was something in his tone—short, clipped, like he didn’t want to talk about it.I hesitated. “And if I don’t?”His eyes flicked back to mine. “Go,” he said, and walked away before I coul
WET DREAMS:A STEAMY COMPILATION BEHIND LOCKED DOORS PART II
Dark. Deep. Heavy. They locked on mine the second he faced me, and I felt like I couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. There was something in them I couldn’t read—something sharp and assessing, but also calm, like he had already figured me out before I’d said a single word.We just stared at each other for what felt like far too long.It wasn’t a normal kind of silence. It was heavier, like the air in the room had thickened and gotten warmer somehow. Every second that ticked by made me more aware of how loud my heartbeat was. I could feel it pulsing in my throat, in my fingertips. I couldn’t even tell if it was from nerves or… something else I didn’t want to think about.Finally, I broke the stare. My eyes darted away, landing on the corner of the cell as if it suddenly deserved my full attention. I forced a small cough to clear my throat—it came out awkward and too soft—and straightened my spine.I had to remember why I was here. This wasn’t personal. This wasn’t some random meeting. I
WET DREAMS:A STEAMY COMPILATION BEHIND LOCKED DOORS PART I
“Elena Cruz.”The sound of my name stopped me instantly. It was the head warden’s voice—low, commanding, the kind of tone that made you straighten your spine before you even turned around.I turned and saw him standing in the doorway of his office, one large hand gripping the frame. His sharp eyes were fixed on me, and there was something in his expression—something that told me whatever he was about to say, I probably wasn’t going to like it.I stepped inside. The familiar smell hit me first—coffee gone lukewarm and the faint scent of old paper. His office always felt a little too warm, like the radiator never quite turned off, and the air seemed thick with the weight of decisions made in here.The blinds behind his desk were half-closed, letting in thin slants of late afternoon sunlight that striped across his messy desk. There were piles of folders stacked unevenly, a couple of pens rolling near the edge, and his coffee mug—half-full, a dark ring staining the inside.“I was just c
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