Buying the Virgin

Chapter 15: The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Fifteen

Michael pumps harder now, his swinging balls colliding with me as he thrusts. I am filled. I feel

empowered, glorious, as I take these two men within me, taking what they can give.

Michael’s breathing is growing ragged. He pants and grunts as he spears me. His control is slipping,

his cock ruthless as he ploughs into me. Fucking my ass, he begins to tremble and shake. Sweats

pours down his face and neck. He drops his head low, his chin almost touching his chest as he groans

loudly. With a gasp he plunges deep in, spasming as he cums into me, grinding his hips against me for

a long minute.

My Master is also near climax. His lean hips shuddering, shaft throbbing into my mouth, his hands

tighten their grip on my shoulders, fingers digging in as his climax builds. With a hot rush, he cums,

hammering deep into me, to the back of my throat and pushing down, painting my mouth and the back

of my throat with the salty sweetness of his flow. This time I try not to panic. I know he will withdraw

quickly, as the rush passes.

Coughing and spluttering through it, I try to take all he can give me but needing to breathe, I try to

break away, to take air, but cannot. Oblivious, my Master shoots into me, his cream flooding into me as

he convulses and gasps.

Finally, he comes around to my problems and hastily pulls out of me. Spluttering and choking, eyes

streaming, I swallow what I can, and cough out the rest.

“Are you alright Charlotte? I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” I reassure him. “It’s okay. Don’t worry.”

He sits beside me on the bed while I clear my airways again, stroking my head and curling my hair

around his fingers. When I am breathing normally again, Michael sits on the other side of me, laying a

companionable arm around my shoulder.

“Thanks for that Charlotte. It felt great.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Feel up to the rest of it now?”

“The rest of it? You’ve only just…”

He laughs. “Well, I just shot my brains out inside you. James here did pretty much the same to your

brains, but you haven’t had your turn yet. We can’t have the lady being the only one not to get the ‘Big

O’”.

“Ah…” I feel suddenly exhausted again. “Errr…would you mind if I take five minutes?”

My Master slaps my thigh. “Course you can Charlotte. You must think us absolute beasts. Come and

have a glass of wine. Better still, wait there, and I’ll bring the bottle over.”

He returns a couple of minutes later with a bottle of wine and three glasses. As he passes a glass of

the deep rich red to me, “Now, drink that. Make yourself comfortable. Lie back against the pillows.

Michael and I are going to pamper you for a while. You deserve it.”

A little uncertainly I lean back, wondering what is coming next. Michael sees my doubt. “Drink the

wine,” he says. “Go on. You’re not supposed to knock it back, but take a couple of good mouthfuls, and

start to let it work. You can sip the rest.”

I gulp down half a glass, noticing that the rich fruitiness is quite a nice counterbalance to the bitter-

sweet aftertaste of my Master’s cum.

Michael produces a bottle of some kind of oil. It smells sweet, spicy and…not exactly savoury…but sort

of wholesome, all at once. He sees my quizzical glance. “Almond oil, with lavender and geranium to

work their magic on you. Some other things too. And a bit of rose just because it smells good.”

He works a little of the oil into his hands and then starts to massage my feet. Each foot is rubbed and

fondled, from toe to heel and beyond up the ankles and further. He is quite skilful and I suspect he has

some kind of training in this.

“You’ve done this before?”

“I have indeed. I’m actually a trained masseur and I’m rather conscious that we’ve asked a lot of you

over the last few days. So now it’s your turn. Relax. I’ll ask you to lie on your stomach in a bit, but right

now, enjoy your wine.”

It is easy to enjoy the wine. Michael works his way up my body. I suspected when I first saw him, with

his stocky muscular physique, that he did some kind of manual work, but this never occurred to me. As

he works on individual muscles in my legs, I examine him, admittedly now through a slightly alcoholic

haze. His whole body is tough and muscular, but his hands, in particular, are well developed, both

strong and gentle, as he manipulates my body.

He presses a thumb against a tight calf and I wince. “Take it easy, girl. I’m going to work these knots

out of you.”

His massage is not entirely functional. I can feel the good he is doing as he works my lower legs, but as

he reaches my thighs he says softly, almost whispers, “Open your legs a little.”

As he works my long thigh muscles, fingers smoothing over skin moved deeply by the heel of his hand,

he does not roam to my sex. Nonetheless, he holds my eyes as his hands quest nearby. Desire begins

to pool in my stomach.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he says. “I’ll wash my hands before I wander around there again. Some things

are meant for external use only.”

He has a deep, male voice. Smooth as cream. Silky as satin. Why did I never notice it so much before?

“Lie down, flat on the bed,” he instructs.

I obey and he swings a leg over so he straddles me. I can’t help but watch his cock nestling in its nest,

quiescent now with his mind on other things. A fine line of gold hairs leads upwards to his navel and

taut, flat stomach.

My mind is not on other things. Michael’s hands sweep soft glory across my stomach then, as he

glances backwards for a moment, stray onto my breasts. He hitches himself forward a little before I

suddenly realise what is happening. There is a second pair of hands on my thighs.

My Master’s voice rumbles up from below. “Raise your knees Charlotte.” As I do so, they are eased

apart. Warm breath flows across my inner thighs and inwards, my pussy practically vibrating under the

heat.

Michael has ceased any pretence of massaging me. Instead, he is leaning forward over me, playing

demon on my breasts. Crouched on all fours over my stomach, his lips are fastened over one nipple,

teasing it with his teeth, nibbling ever so gently and sending electric shocks down through my core with

every bite.

A second pair of lips fastens onto my clit. A finger has pulled back the hood, and a gentle suckling at

my bud alternates with a tongue, winding ever tighter coils of arousal around it.

I gasp and tremble as cascading waves of pleasure ripple through me. The scent of Michael’s hair, the

sweet musky perfume of male sweat, flows over me. Long, slow strokes of my Master’s tongue, from

my pussy, up through the lips, and sweeping over my engorged clit are sending irresistible signals to

my inner sex.

A kind of slow, ever-building rush, spreads from my core. Not fast. Not sudden. But unmistakable and

not to be denied.

My hips quiver and shake under the onslaught. My breath, rough and ragged, struggles for space with

the moans escaping me.

Michael pinches my nipples, hard. One between each thumb and finger, the pain-pleasure courses

down through my body like a cataract. Heat gushes from my pussy, and I writhe and twist, unable to

move far, my body caged by Michael’s.

A tongue invades my steaming cunt, painting circles of heat inside. A wild, feral, climax arises from

within, and takes me.

I scream, bucking and jerking. Head flung back, eyes tight closed, my orgasm is seismic. Hands take

firm hold of my thighs, pinning me as the tongue in my cunt takes me far on my inner journey. Michael

drops his weight onto me, pinning me further as I try to escape-envelop-enjoy-ride this screaming

climax. On and on it goes.

Finally, I find the words, “Stop. Stop. For God’s sake stop. I can’t take any more.”

The tongue withdraws and Michael sits up straight, astraddle my hips.

“That seemed to be a good one,” he laughs.

I have used up my available supply of words. Speechlessly I nod as my Master arises behind Michael,

his long lean face wearing a ‘cat-that-got-the-cream’ smile.

Michael takes on a more business-like air. “Come on. Let’s finish that massage you were having.”NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.