Buying the Virgin

Chapter 16: The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Sixteen

“So, Charlotte. It is our final day together tomorrow.”

Stretched out on my back, my Master is lying beside me, stroking my stomach and left breast, as we

keep company together on the bed in his beautiful mirrored room. Candles glimmer and their multiple

reflections cast a gloried shimmering light.

Michael, on the other side of me, is suckling at my right breast, a free hand stroking at my thigh.

We are not exactly in lustful mood, more sensual: occupying a kind of sexual hinterland resulting from

several days of roller-coaster, carnal adventure after I auctioned myself and my virginity to my Master.

I am not a Virgin anymore.

“Yes, Master. Our final day.”

“I hope you have enjoyed our time together? No regrets?”

“No Master. It’s been wonderful. You - and Michael - have opened my eyes; changed my view of the

world.”

Michael chuckles through his mouthful of my right nipple. My Master smiles. “I can imagine. To have

been through your miserable non-marriage… I know it wasn’t your fault, but there must surely have

been times when you questioned yourself?”

Sighing, “Yes, that’s true. There were times when I wondered if it was me. Was I so unattractive that my

own husband wouldn’t or couldn’t…”

My Master taps me lightly on the breast. “No!” His word is sharp, but his voice gentle. “Not true, This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

Charlotte. Unattractive? You are beautiful. Truly beautiful. Do you seriously think I would have paid

what I did if you weren’t? Girls in sore need of money are not that hard to find, you know.”

Michael hums an affirmative kind of noise through his full mouth.

Now it is my turn to chuckle and I pull myself up to sit cross-legged on the bed, breaking loose from

Michael. “I suppose so Master, but nonetheless, I mean every word I say. I’ve actually had a wonderful

week, and I do want to say thank you. To both of you.”

My Master does not speak, but a slow, pleased smile breaks over his austere face. Michael sits up next

to me, wearing a charmed expression.

“My name’s not really Charlotte, you know.”

“Of course, I know.”

“I don’t mind telling you now, who I am. I know you’re a good man, good men. I can trust you both.

It’s…”

My Master presses a finger to my lips. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll always be Charlotte to me. And, I think I

can speak for Michael that he feels the same…”

Michael, never too talkative, nods and smiles, then leans forward to kiss me, clasping the back of my

head with one hand, pulling me in close, twisting me around to face him.

My body, so responsive now, instantly replies to him, a pang of arousal piercing me and I draw in

breath sharply. What happened to my sexual hinterland?

Michael grins, knowing exactly what has just happened, his hand wandering to my right breast and I

see him glance over my shoulder.

“I think I’ll sit this one out for now,” says my Master behind me. “But I will enjoy watching you two.” He

leans over to a side table, pouring himself a glass of wine, then returns to lying beside me, still stroking.

Michael locks my gaze, the hand on my breast narrowing in on the nipple, plucking at it, tweaking and

twisting. Little sparks shoot through me, igniting my sex. Warm and damp below, the familiar tingling in

my pussy broadcasts its message. Fuck me. Again.

He adds a hand to the other nipple, already beginning to tighten and crinkle of its own accord. Pinching

at it, it hurts but I want more and he pinches harder. “Come on,” he says. “Let me hear you.” This time

he twists, and I yelp, not in protest but with arousal as my pussy begins to flow.

Michael’s cock, previously resting snug in its nest of golden curls, is rising and stiffening, so I help it

along, fingering the head between thumb and forefinger, squeezing and circling, outlining the ridge as it

hardens and becomes more prominent.

His breathing grows heavier, pupils dilating, and a fine sheen of sweat appears on his chest. I can

smell him, deliciously male and musky, perfumed with sex and lust.

Despite his words, my Master is not just watching. His fingers, caressing the soft skin between my

thighs are questing ever upwards and inwards, not into my sex, but all around. They play just around

my pussy lips, sending sharp tingles of desire through me, wanting to draw him in further.

My heartbeat increases, my blood beginning to sing. Hips twitching, I want to be filled. I want

something inside me.

The fingers slide further in, slipping between pussy lips rapidly engorging, growing more slippery by the

second as my pussy obligingly juices up. The fingers slick up quickly, reaching for my nub. As they

spiral around my clit, my breath begins to shudder.

Remembering Michael, I crouch, taking his cock between my lips, licking away the seeping droplet at

the tip, inserting my tongue into the slit. My position is awkward and uncomfortable, but I want to suck

him. I want Michael to cum in my mouth, to taste him as he spurts into me. He sighs above me.

Abruptly, he grabs me under the arms, lifting me, and rolls me back onto the bed, pushing me down to

lie on my back again. Shoving a pillow under my head, he straddles my chest presenting his cock to

me again. This time it is much easier and I can take him properly into my mouth, sucking at the head as

hard as he seems to want it, licking up the full length from base to tip. It gives me a feeling of power, to

bring a man to full, throbbing erection. With my mouth full of Michael’s delicious cock, I gaze upwards

to see his head flung back, eyes squeezed shut, mouth slightly open as he takes short, panting,

breaths.

My Master has moved with my adjusted position, and, seated by my hips, continues his game of wind-

up on my pulsating clit, which is in its turn sending little shocks to my cunt, as it is flicked and teased.

Abruptly, Michael swings right around, crouching over me on all fours, head to toe. Manoeuvring his

cock over my mouth, his breath warms my pussy lips, already primed from my Master’s handling.

“Open your thighs wider Charlotte,” he says. “Bring your knees up.” With a little difficulty, we play

human origami, until my thighs are wide and Michael is resting on his hands between them, face

poised over my clit and pussy.

Supporting himself on one hand, he plays with my copper curls, winding them through his fingers.

Down the length of my body, I want to see what he is doing, but my view forward is blocked by his long

cock, probing my lips, and his balls, swinging behind. The thick shaft presses to my lips, urging them

open again. As I take him in, he sheathes the head in my mouth, wriggling his hips in an invitation to

suck it.

Sliding my eyes sideways, in the mirrors I see him, caging me beneath his body in the be-candled light,

face hidden behind my thighs, but wisps of his golden hair spilling over.

His free hand slips between my labia, splaying them for his attention, exposing my aching bud and

making my pussy gape. In the mirror, I see his head lower, then move and undulate, as he licks and

chews at my mound.

Moaning uselessly through the cock gagging my mouth, I squirm and writhe, but fastened as I am

under Michael, there is nowhere to move.

Beyond Michael in the mirror, my Master’s lean frame stands over us. He strokes his erection, twitching

hard against his flat abdomen, his gaze alternating between Michael’s head between my legs and his

rump above my face. Then he catches sight of me watching him in the mirrors, my eyes slanted

sideways, face pinned by the thick shaft in my mouth. He watches me, studying my expression,

enjoying my reaction to Michael’s working of my warming sex. My enjoyment of the cock I am sucking.

Michael’s breath is hot now over my pussy lips, as he descends lower. Curling down into me, his lips

fasten around my bud, swollen, hot, sensitive. He mouths at it, sending pulsating pleasure rippling

through me, my lips engorging, my pussy blooming and flowing.

My whole body is flushing. The skin of my breasts and belly blushes red, my face running with

perspiration as the fires within burn.

Michael laps at me, sucking at my pussy lips, stretching them between his teeth, nibbling at my folds.

My cunt surges, pulsing and bubbling hot juices which trickle away until he licks them from my

glistening skin.

His hips, hovering over my face, are beginning to tremble, almost to vibrate, above me. Now, rather

than let me work him with my mouth, he slides up and down, in and out in a slow face fuck which, I can

tell, is taking him trouble to control. His balls swing against my eyes, scented delicately of arousal,

sweat and masculine fragrance.