Captive Audience (2 page)

When he turned the corner and headed into the cafeteria, she was standing to the side of the door as the rest of the prisoners filed in. He walked past, trying to catch her eye, but she avoided his gaze.

Jake chuckled to himself as he got in line for chow. He’d dreaded the thought of having to be here for thirty days. Even though around town folks jokingly referred to this place as the “Chester County Hotel”, it was still prison. He couldn’t ride his horses, work on the farm, or hang with his friends and family for the next long while. To top it off, he didn’t like to be idle and he didn’t like feeling trapped. But now…well, all of a sudden things had just gotten a little more interesting. If he had to be here, he might as well make the best of it. And damn if Officer Grace didn’t look like the best of it from where he was standing.

* * * * *

The evening passed without incident, and Mickey did her level best to avoid Jake Thompson. He made her feel achy inside and she needed to stay as far from him as possible.

At ten o’clock, it was lights out. She went from cell to cell, making sure everything was secure. When she reached the door to 742, she gave it a little jiggle. Jake’s raspy voice snaked through the bars in response.

“Sweet dreams, Officer Grace. I’ll be thinking of you.”

She detected the hint of a smile in his voice and it took all of her willpower not to smile back.

“Sure you will, Thompson. See you tomorrow,” she replied lightly and moved on.

Mickey finished her rounds and headed back to the control room. She turned on the computer and opened up the inmate information database. She typed in Jake’s name and was inexplicably relieved to see that he had no priors and was in jail for a bar fight. Not a career criminal by any stretch. Probably just a guy caught up in a bad situation. Logging out, she sat back and sipped on a cup of coffee to get her through the last two hours of her shift.

Against her will, her gaze was drawn to the monitor on 742. In the dim light of the cell, she could see Jake Thompson lying flat on his back, one arm bent behind his head. His shirt was open, exposing his stomach and chest. She stared, dry-mouthed. His right hand rested on his stomach and seemed to be moving almost imperceptibly downward. Zooming the camera in closer, she held her breath as his hand crept lower and lower to settle on the front of his pants.

She sat forward, straining inexorably closer to the monitor as he wrapped his hand around the cotton-encased ridge and squeezed, his mouth falling open in a silent groan as he did so. She looked around guiltily then leaned in farther to slowly edge the volume up, not satisfied until she could hear his low, harsh breathing. Riveted, she stared as he deftly untied the drawstring to his pants, and pushed them downward. His cock sprang into view, hard, long, and thick. Mickey began to squirm in her chair as she imagined it inside her. A rush of heat pooled between her thighs and her pussy grew wet.

His eyes drifted closed and he began to work himself slowly. His hand moved in long strokes from base to tip, stopping sporadically to squeeze the head. As his hand accelerated, so did Mickey’s heart rate as she watched, unable to look away. His body tensed as he began to pump his cock in earnest, fist moving faster and faster. His abs clenched, his jaw firmed, and he opened his eyes, turning to look directly into the camera.

* * * * *

As Jake lay on his back in his tiny cell, stroking his cock, he thought of Officer Grace. He imagined jerking off onto those luscious lips of hers, creamy beads of his cum on her chin, and then it hadn’t taken long. He knew it was unlikely, but he hoped against hope that she was watching him. He wondered if she was as turned on as he was. The thought that she could be looking at him right now, nipples hard, pussy throbbing, sent him over the edge. He convulsed, coming hard as he looked up at the camera, his mouth working wordlessly as he felt the hot juice spurt onto his clenched stomach.

He released his cock and waited for his heart to stop pounding. Not ideal, jerking off like some teenager, but at least it had taken the edge off momentarily. Still, the minute he got the chance, he was going to find out what was going on under that woman’s uniform, even if it killed him. Given the circumstances, it would be a challenge. And Jake loved a challenge.

Chapter Three

Mickey went home that night and tossed and turned. She was mortified she’d invaded a prisoner’s privacy that way, and embarrassed by her reaction to what she had seen. She thought she’d put those cravings behind her. Clearly she was mistaken because her body pulsed with need as her mind replayed the scene as if on an endless loop: Jake stroking himself and then coming as he stared into the camera.

As a sort of punishment, but also to prove to herself that she wasn’t depraved, she suffered the want, refusing to ease herself by masturbating. If watching a criminal jerking off drove her to that, then she really was a sick pervert just like her mother said, wasn’t she?

She fully awoke at 4:00 a.m., exhausted and still wanting. Stubbornly, she stayed in bed, finally allowing herself to get up at 6:00 a.m. and go for a run. She ran five miles, took a cool shower, and then went to her classes for the day. The plan was to stay busy enough not to think about Jake Thompson.

After school, she stopped home, quickly ate a grilled cheese sandwich, and headed to her bedroom to get ready for her shift. She tried to ignore the anticipation and excitement she felt at the thought of going to work that evening.

As Mickey stripped off her street clothes, she looked down at her minimizing bra. Her hands stilled. She didn’t want to wear it today.
It has nothing to do with Jake
, she assured herself. The bra was just really uncomfortable. She slipped it off and dug through her dresser until she found a lacy peach bra that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to throw away, along with a matching pair of bikini panties. She slipped into the lingerie, blood thrumming, and put on the rest of her uniform, noting the way her shirt, rather than hanging about her body in a shapeless mass, now fit her unrestrained curves.

At the last minute, on a whim, she pulled her hair back in a loose, soft ponytail rather than stuffing it all under the cap. She grabbed her gear on her way to the front door. Almost as an afterthought, she went back for a tube of strawberry lip gloss and swiped it on before stuffing it into her pocket.
Chilly out there. Wouldn’t want to get chapped lips.

As Mickey entered the prison and headed toward her block, some of the guys looked at her for a long while as she walked by. She smiled and said hello as usual, but some of the reactions were anything but typical as a few men made feeble attempts at small talk. By the time she got to Block C, her face felt flushed. She walked in just as Manny was gathering his things.

“Hey Manny,” she said with a smile.

“Hey yourself, Mick…wow! You look great. Different. Where’s your glasses?”

Her face heated even further as she murmured that she had forgotten them. She and Manny chatted as he finished packing up and they switched off for the day.

Once Mickey was sure he had left, she went straight to the cameras to check on Jake.
And the rest of the prisoners,
she quickly amended. When she turned to his monitor, he was busy with his exercise routine, doing countless sit-ups, then push-ups.

Purposefully turning away, she retrieved her statistics textbook from her pack. She attempted to do some homework, but found it impossible to concentrate as she tried to ignore the live feed from 742. After a while, Mickey gave up with a sigh and resorted to pushing papers around her desk and doodling, finally acknowledging that she was just killing time until chow when she could see Jake face-to-face.

By the time five o’clock finally rolled around Mickey was jittery and on edge. She looked into her compact mirror, gave her ponytail a fluff, and added a fresh coat of strawberry gloss to her lips. Then she took a few deep breaths and headed out to the block.

Rich met her at the door and stopped short when he saw her. He cocked his head, looking a bit like a puzzled schnauzer.

“Uh, hey Mick…” he said as he looked from her face to her breasts and lingered there for a moment. He dragged his gaze upward again and, clearly determined not to mention the changes in her, stuttered, “Uh, y-you ready to do the rounds?”

“Sure, Rich, let’s go.” They headed down the block and split off. He went right, and she went left.

She unlocked the doors methodically. As she approached Jake’s cell, her heart began to thud. Her thoughts moved to the scene in his cell the night before and her nipples grew taut.
Damn, he was sexy
. She reached his door, calling in her best prison guard, no-nonsense voice, “Thompson?”

“Well, hello Officer Grace,” he drawled, and a moment later he was standing just a few inches in front of her. She had to tip her head up to look at him, swallowing hard as his hot gaze met hers.

“Chow time,” she muttered, her voice coming out less prison guard and more porn star than she would have liked. She cleared her throat and gamely tried again. “Chow time,” she repeated, her tone appropriately curt.

His gaze traveled over her face, her hair, and down to her chest. She watched as his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared. “Cold?” he whispered huskily.

Mickey tried to break their eye contact, but felt almost spellbound. Mute, she shook her head.

“Should I be flattered then, Officer Grace?”

She finally looked away, annoyed with herself as much as him.

“Be whatever you want to be, Thompson, but do it at chow,” she responded, and walked on to the next cell.

As Jake fell in step behind her, he smiled to himself. This was very interesting. She had been gorgeous yesterday, even with her silly glasses and her hair in that severe style, but today? Well, today she was dynamite. Whatever she had done to disguise her breasts the day before was not in evidence today and he was pleased to see he’d been right. Underneath all that camouflage, she had a knockout body. He watched her walk in front of him, her curvy hips rolling with each step, and lamented that her pants were still too baggy for him to get a good look at her ass. They rounded the corner and she took her post at the doorway to the mess hall. As the inmates filed in, he hung back, waiting until last. He walked through the door and, knowing he might not get another chance to talk to her until the next day, he turned and said, “You look lovely today, Officer.”

“Thank you,” she replied.

 
He moved toward the chow line, then stopped to look back. “Oh, and Gracie? I hope to see you later. Or at least, I hope you see me…” He trailed off and gave her a heated stare.

As he watched her face go pink he knew for sure that she had watched him the night before. His cock surged at the thought and he wondered if she had enjoyed the show. It was all he could do not to grab her right then and do all the things he had imagined. He almost groaned out loud.

Mickey’s mouth opened slightly in astonishment. He had known
she was watching. She squirmed under his gaze and, despite her embarrassment, managed to muster some righteous indignation. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Thompson. Now get in line.”

He gave her a knowing grin and pointed at his wrist as if it held a watch and mouthed, “Ten thirty,” then turned on his heel to take his place in line.

Holy shit.
What am I doing?
Mickey thought with a mental shake of her head. She would be risking her job if she took this any further. She should ask to be moved off the block. They would have no problem switching her, but damn if this wasn’t the most exciting thing that had happened to her since…well,
ever
. Besides, nothing was ever going to actually happen between them, she assured herself. Was there really any harm in looking?

Chapter Four

The time between chow and lights out dragged endlessly. Mickey discreetly looked around for Jake during rec time, but didn’t see him in the TV room. By the time ten o’clock approached, Mickey found herself in knots. As she systematically locked down the block cell by cell, she found herself approaching 742. She stopped in front of the door and gave it a firm jiggle as the inmate watched her from his bunk. He stood and walked over to her, moving close to the bars.

“Officer Grace, last night was really, really nice. I got to picture that sexy mouth and those white teeth sucking and nipping at my cock. But tonight you gave me even more to think about. I want you to think about it too,” he whispered. “I want you to touch your pussy when you watch me, and imagine it’s me touching you. Licking you. And then I want us to come together. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”