The entire day, Derek walked around the prison like a man possessed. His face stayed flushed no matter what he did. Every time he caught a glimpse of Stiles, his mind flashed back to the shower—her soft tits wrapped around his cock, her throat swallowing him whole, the way she had called him “Daddy” while cum painted her chest. He kept telling himself it was a mistake. A one-time lapse in judgment. He was a professional. A kind, shy guy who took his job seriously. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

But his cock had other ideas. It stayed half-hard all day, twitching every time Stiles found a way to get close.