Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
The next clip showed her lying in bed on her stomach, texting on her phone. Jealousy swirled in my gut as I wondered who was making her smile like that, knowing for a fact that it wasn’t me. She adjusted the fit of her shorts, relaxed and oblivious to the hidden camera capturing her every move.
As always, watching her in secret like this filled me with a mixture of conflicting emotions—sorrow being chief among them. Getting to hold her in my hands without ever touching her killed me every time. But the pain was worth it, especially when the alternative meant missing out on her life.
My excitement grew as I made my way through the clips, my body acutely aware of what was coming. Finally, a high-definition view of her in the shower filled the small screen. I devoured the sight of her smooth, wet skin, the water running down her chest and dripping off her tan nipples. My cock throbbed, already tenting the front of my pants.
I cleared my throat, the agreed-upon signal for my lawyer to make himself scarce for at least five minutes. He rose from the table without so much as glancing in my direction, knocked on the door, and exchanged a few words with the guard before leaving the room.
The second the door shut behind him, I reached into my pants, grasping my cock with a low groan. I stroked myself as the young woman spread suds over her body with a pink loofah before switching to a shower wand to rinse off the suds. My balls tightened as she angled the spray between her thighs and held it there, her lips parting in a moan. She leaned back against the tile, letting the jets pound softly against her clit.
God, I wanted to be there, to lick the droplets from her breasts, to pin her against the wet tile as I touched her, tasted her. More than anything, I wanted to be the one making her come.
But that could never happen, not just because I was behind bars. It couldn’t happen because it was wrong to want to fuck your own stepdaughter. That’s what she was to me, my Hailee, my child by marriage if not by blood.
Just acknowledging our family connection triggered a surge of pleasure that spread out from my cock to every inch of my traitorous body. There was no excuse for my desires, let alone my actions. If Hailee knew that the man who had raised her was watching her like this, she’d be horrified.
Why was that such a turn-on?
I jerked myself faster as I watched her bring herself to orgasm, imagining how good it would feel to sink my cock inside her as she came, how tightly her muscles would grip and quiver around me. Her small cries of pleasure echoed between my ears as I shot off into my fist, panting and groaning.
“Fuck…” I whispered on a sigh. My heartbeat continued to race as I quickly wiped away the evidence of my transgression with rough, commissary tissues that I’d stuffed into my pocket this morning.
My lawyer returned to the conference room just as I finished tucking the tissues back into my pants. I’d have given anything for a few more minutes with Hailee’s videos, but the guards would no doubt start to get antsy if my lawyer was gone for too long. The last thing I needed was for them to start asking questions or insist on coming into the room while my attorney took a leisurely shit.
I locked the phone and placed it back onto the table with the earbuds. Now that the high of finally seeing my girl had begun to wear off, I couldn’t help feeling somewhat guilty about what I’d done. There was no way around it: I was a sick bastard, not just for wanting to fuck her, but for my part in invading her privacy so deliberately.
Somehow that guilt never stopped me from showing up here every month and watching the clips my brother had curated for me. Selfishly, I knew I’d go crazy in this place without some connection to Hailee and the life I’d left behind. Part of me would’ve preferred to get a letter or a call from Hailee herself, but after four years, she was still too angry to speak to me, and I couldn’t blame her.
A sense of awkwardness permeated the conference room like the stench of sweat and come as my lawyer pocketed the phone and earbuds. He didn’t know what I was watching, but I was willing to bet he suspected the videos were sexual in nature. Thankfully, the guy was smart enough not to ask.
“I have a message from your brother,” he said. “Logan wanted me to tell you that this will be the last one for a while.”