Description ▼
I’m pinned against the cell bars, wrists held firm behind my back, when Detective Ceetee steps in close and brushes his holster against my hip. He doesn’t read me rights — he unzips and drops to his knees, mouth sealing around my cock, working wet and deep until my head knocks the concrete. When he rises, he turns me around and pushes into my tight hole, hand clamped over my mouth as he fucks me in punishing strokes. His breath is hot on my neck as he grinds to the base, and I’m spilling across the floor before he even pulls out.
