After stretching those tense moments to the breaking point, Jess finally took my hand, and pulled me to my feet. I needed no further encouragement; my mad dash to the bucket was accomplished without a moment to spare. Despite the embarrassment of the disturbing exhibition, I made it through the next few minutes and was back on the bed, on my hands and knees, ready to suffer through whatever indignity came next.
That indignity began with his probing fingers, with plenty of lube to grease my back door, and finally the stiff feeling of something trying to wedge itself into a space much smaller than was available.
“The #4 plug. How about we give it a try?” he said.
He wasn’t asking my permission.
I saw it greased and gleaming before my eyes. “No!” I vehemently shook my head, “That’s never
