I realized there were quite a few grammatical errors in my first story so I have edited it. I apologize for the errors. Now if I can only find the way to remove the first one...
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Until I retired a few years ago, I spent my adult life working in prisons as a correctional officer, Lieutenant and Captain. The following is a story of what happened to me while on the job as a lieutenant.
They say prison isn't the best place to get sex and for the most part I agree. Although, depending on what type of joint you work, it's not difficult to do. Sex with inmates can be easy. But sex with inmates, male or female, is illegal and can get you put in prison yourself. Sex with a fellow staff member, however, happens all the time. It might not be as easy but it is often worth the effort.
Becky was a psychologist at our institution. She treated inmates with mental health problems. Becky wasn't a raving beauty - she was just incredibly cute. She had blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes behind very thin, frameless glasses, a gorgeous smile and a runner's body - small, firm breasts, muscular legs and a tight ass. She ran at least 5 miles every day.
Becky and I got to know each other well when I was assigned as the lieutenant in the segregation unit. My job was to keep things running in an orderly fashion, making sure the inmates complied with all rules and regulations and that they got everything that they had coming by law. One thing they were entitled to was periodic reviews by me, their case workers and counselors, religious services and mental health services.
Becky came to the Seg unit several times a week and would stop in my office to chat and to fill me in on anything she thought I needed to know. We quickly developed a friendship. I was a few years older than she but took care of myself, working out with weights on a regular basis.
Eventually Becky and I began communicating on the institution's instant messaging service on the computer system. We talked about business in the beginning but as our friendship developed our conversations became more personal. One day I got bold and told her I liked when she came to see me because I really enjoyed watching her ass as she walked down the corridor from my office. She liked that. Our conversations became intimate after that and it wasn't long before we were having fairly racy sexual conversations about who we'd been with, what we liked, etc.
Becky was unhappily married at the time but I was single and unattached. I was having fun, using her for great masturbation sessions in the evenings at home.
One day, during a particularly hot messaging conversation, I took a chance and told her that we needed to stop because she was making me hard.
"I'm already wet..." came her response.
I knew with her marital situation that getting together after work was probably a fantasy so I told her "When I get home today I'm going to masturbate while reliving this conversation. Is it OK with you if I fantasize about you while I get off?"
"Certainly," came her response. "As long as you tell me about it tomorrow."
How could I pass that up? I lived 11 miles from the joint and thought about nothing else on the way home. I was hard when I pulled into the garage. I stripped off my clothes as I walked toward the bedroom, leaving them in a trail behind me. My cock was leading the way, dripping pre-cum on the floor. I had my hand around it before I hit the bed and was stroking away, remembering Becky's words "I'm already wet..."
