Page 45 of Jackson
“Wonderful dessert, but I want more.”
More?
What does he mean by that?
Will he fuck me now?
I’m game.
Paula knew better than to ask him, though.
She cocked her head, listening intently.
A lid from a bottle popped, followed by a squirting sound.
Before she could wonder what he was doing, something cold and hard probed at her anus. Instinctively, she clenched against the intrusion into what she considered an exit-only zone.
He tsked. “It’s a very small plug, and you can handle it easily. Bear down, Melda.”
She didn’t want to.
“Are you going to use your safeword?” The pressure against her backhole lessened.
She wanted to whine, curse, or both.
“No, Sir.”
“In that case, you’ll let me in,” he stated—well, ordered.
Paula blew out a breath and willed her muscles to unclench. Her anus stretched to the edge of pain. She couldn’t help it and started to whimper and shook her head.
“Sh, sh,” Jackson soothed her. “Relax, you can take it.”
Something hot and wet latched onto her clitoris. She shuddered as the discomfort at her anus morphed into pleasure and the plug slid home.
Despite the strange sensation in her back passage, or maybe because of it, she reached the edge of orgasm even faster.
Her skin grew hot and taut, her entire body rigid. Almost, almost.
Again, Jackson withdrew.
Her stomach tightened
She wanted to demand he stop the torment, but she could only whimper and shake her head.
Paula gritted her teeth to keep from yelling at him. If this was what she thought it was, she didn’t like orgasm denial one bit.
The mean bastard had the audacity to chuckle.
Asshole!
She bucked against the rope, but he had done a thorough job tying her down.
“I think you need to cool down a bit.” A chair scraped, followed by soft footfalls, the squeak of the refrigerator, and more movement. “Besides, what’s dessert without ice cream?”
Before Paula could register what he meant, a cold substance landed squarely on her pussy.
She couldn’t help it. She squealed.
