He bought me presents all the time. So I bought him one.

“I got you something,” I said, dropping my bag by the front door. I kicked off my high heels and hung my jacket on the wall peg.

Jackson looked up, one eyebrow cocked in surprise. “Did you?” He smiled.

I didn’t smile. Instead, I unzipped my skirt and dropped it on the floor with my shoes. I unbuttoned my blouse and took it off, too. Then I tossed that onto the growing pile. I stood there in my black bra and panties and toed the bag. “Open it.”

“It’s in your bag?”

“It is.”

I’d stopped at the sex toy shop that had just opened in our kitschy little neighborhood. There I’d seen the perfect thing for my Jackson. I didn’t let my emotions show on my face, but my insides were crawling with excitement. And arousal.

He slowly opened the bag as if he anticipated a snake instead of a gift, but that was from reading my body language: my back, ramrod straight; my face set in a neutral mask; my limbs held in a strong position, alluding to power. Only I knew that inside I was completely giddy with excitement.

He pulled the ball gag from the bag and looked up at me with sheer excitement. “For me?”

“For you. Now go upstairs and take your clothes off. I’ll be up in a moment.”

He blinked once, stood, and strode toward the steps. I wasn’t a fool, though; I’d spotted the instant hard-on he was sporting.

I lingered, despite not wanting to wait. I let him sit up there naked, staring at his gift, and stew. I wandered into the dining room, poured a glass of red wine, took a sip, and then set it down. I walked into the kitchen to see what was for dinner and found a rib eye resting at room temperature on the counter. I flipped through the mail. It took everything in me not to rush upstairs. When ten minutes finally passed, I went to him, my bare feet whispering softly on the carpeted stairs.

I almost smiled; I had to tamp down the urge when I saw him sitting there on the edge of the bed, buck naked with a hard-on to beat all hard-ons, and the ball gag in his hand.

“There’s my boy,” I said.

His cock twitched, and I bit the inside of my cheek. My cunt wasn’t wet; it was whatever resided beyond wet. I walked to him and took the ball gag, pointing to the floor and keeping my voice stern. “Before we plug up that pretty mouth I want you to use it. And use it well.”

He dropped to his knees and fell on me like a ravenous beast. His mouth latched onto my pussy, his tongue pushing and swiping and twirling over my clit. He drew designs with the tip of his tongue — one of his favorite things to do — and I tried to imagine what they were. A star, maybe? A circle? Letters? Was he writing my name? I gripped his short dark hair in my fingers and tugged, hissing, “Use your fingers, too.”

Immediately, two thick fingers drove into me and my knees dipped a little. I braced myself and let him fuck me with his digits and paint me with his tongue. When I came it was with a low groan, head tipped back, and fairy lights flashing behind my closed eyelids.

I pushed him away roughly and held out my hand. He took it, and as I helped him to his feet, I pointed to the bed with my free hand, keeping my face grim. My pussy thumped merrily away, keeping time with my pulse, but I couldn’t focus on that now. I had work to do. Jackson sat on the bed, and I climbed behind him, slipping the bright pink ball between his lips and connecting the straps behind his head. I adjusted them to my liking: snug but not too tight.

I checked him from the front, smiled and patted his cheek. “Good boy. So, what do we do to test this ball gag? What reactions are we muffling? What shall I use on you? I’m thinking the crop… ” I glanced at his cock and continued. “The paddle? Or a strap-on. You could use a good pegging. Or maybe a good old-fashioned hand spanking?”

And there it was. The jerk of his cock I’d been waiting for. Spanking it was. But I went on pretending to consider my options. I touched the weeping tip of his cock, and he groaned around the gag. “I think I’d like to redden your ass with my hand.”

I sat on the edge of the bed and patted my lap. “Come on.”

I didn’t have to ask twice. Jackson got up and draped himself across my thighs. His body quivered with anticipation as I ran my hand down his back and over his ass. Every touch brought a twitch or a sigh.

I ran my fingers up his ass crack and touched the tip of my finger to his rear hole, watching all the muscles in his back flex as he jerked. I laughed softly and stroked my fingers gently along his butt again. I felt him relax, and that was what I had been waiting for. The first blow was fast and hard, and the crack that sounded in the silent room echoed in my ears. My palm stung from the impact, but I immediately laid another slap down on the opposite cheek. I watched my palm prints blossom bright red on his pale skin.

It took my breath away to see the redness flooding the white flesh of his ass. I gave him two more blows and then reached beneath him, dragging fist along the length of his hard cock. He moaned helplessly around the ball gag, and the sound of it went straight to the center of me, my empty pussy clenching around nothing but its own moisture.

After moistening a few fingers in my mouth, I pushed one into his ass and fucked him with it. His cheeks tightened around every thrust I delivered. He bucked against me, practically humping my leg. I smiled and pushed in a second finger. “There we go. That’s my good boy.”

A long groan escaped his lips, making my heart skip a beat. When his body moved in a way that told me he was close to getting off, I swiftly withdrew, making him gasp. Then I delivered four more blows to his pretty pink ass.

His groans had transformed into desperate, muffled yelps.

“Get on your back,” I said, hoarse and raspy. My arousal was clearly reflected in my voice.

Jackson got on his back, his cock standing up straight. I climbed onto him, knowing that every time I drove myself down, his ass would sting and burn and throb with pain.

I sank onto him slowly, watched him toss his head and whimper. When I was settled, I could tell by the subtle buck of his hips that he wanted me to move. Needed me to move. I remained still, feeling my pussy pound with want.

When his eyes grew shiny with frustration, I put his hands above his head and leaned my weight on them. I kissed the rubber ball between his lips and whispered, “Do not move. If you move, I will stop and that will be that. Don’t move a muscle, Jackson.”

He nodded, eyes wide. His desperation was evident.

I started to move. Slower than I knew he wanted, slower than his body needed. But that was the point. He remained utterly still, and the effort it took was clear because his lean muscles stood out like cords.

“I sank onto him slowly, watched him toss his head and whimper.”

I fucked him at a relaxed pace, pinching his nipples and staring into his big green eyes. I waited for his face to look tortured from needing me to increase my rhythm. When it did, I stopped riding him and began to rock from side to side, grinding my clit against his pelvis. Jackson looked up at me on the verge of tears, a small cry bleeding around the rubber ball in his mouth. He gripped the bedsheets, trying desperately not to move. I had to admit, I was impressed.

He mumbled something around the ball gag that I had no trouble understanding: “Please.”

“Please what?” I hissed down at him, watching his face.

“Ma’am.” The word was barely decipherable, but I knew what he said. And then a garbled: “Please, Ma’am.”

I nodded once, kissed the ball again, and began to move with increasing speed. I rocked against him violently, taking him as deeply as I could and giving him the intensity and roughness that he needed. His whimpers grew louder, and I growled, “You do not come until I give you permission, got it?”

His nod was fast and furious, his eyes shiny and bright.

I slammed down onto him so fast the shock wave went through my clit, and I surprised myself by coming with a harsh cry, my head tossed back. I rocked from side to side again until a single tear slid down his face, and I took pity.

I picked my tempo up again. “You may come. And you may move.”

He drove up under me three times and came with a sob, his mouth working around the bright pink ball. I kissed it again, smiled down at him, and said, “Gee, I sure hope you like your gift, baby. I know I do.”

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