Kimberly Kane's Been Blackmaled - Part 2

They lay sprawled across the hay-strewn floor of the empty stable, ropes biting red into Melanie's wrists and ankles. The leather creaked when Jenna tightened the final knot around a wooden post, leaving her spread and helpless beneath the barn's slanting light. Jenna's fingers—dark, deft, unhurried—slid between Melanie's thighs and stroked her already slick folds in firm, lazy circles. Each pass dragged a low sound from Melanie's throat, hips twitching against the restraint. Jenna watched every flicker of reaction, then pushed two fingers inside her, curling them hard, thrusting in slow, deliberate strokes that made Melanie's walls flutter and grip. Her thumb pressed firm over the swollen clit, rubbing in the same steady rhythm until the trapped woman was panting, dripping down her own thighs. When Jenna finally reached for the harness, Melanie's eyes went wide. The thick silicone cock jutted dark and obscene from Jenna's hips. She slicked it once, then lined up and drove in with one long, smooth thrust. Melanie cried out, body arching against the ropes as she took every inch. Jenna didn't pause. She fucked her steady and deep, hips snapping, one hand braced on Melanie's breast, the other pinning her hip as each stroke jostled her against the post. The barn filled with the wet slap of skin, the creak of leather, and the raw, breathy sounds of a woman being used exactly as she needed.