Buying The Virgin Part 1-3 novel Chapter 66

I moan my arousal, and my growing need to be fucked.

My cunt is afire. Chilled fingers probe inside me and, hips bucking, I gush scalding juices.

“Oh God, fuck me, one of you, please.”

There are twin chuckles and my Master, with his voice like wild silk, says, “You’ll have to ask more nicely than that….”

“Please…. Please, I want you inside me. Please.”

The chilled fingers (whose?) enter me again, this time rubbing against my sweet spot (Ah…. Michael… his forte…), and my knees give entirely. Dropping, my weight on my wrists, the cuffs clasp me tightly, preventing me from falling.

Michael stands, pressing himself against me, his perfume of pine and sex and clean masculinity filling my nostrils. His erection presses against my stomach as, clasping me at the hips, parting my knees with his, he swings me up, lifting me. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around him as, hitching me up to a better grip, he plunges inside me.

I wail as he rams me inside, stretching me wide, my inner muscles clenching around his thick cock, my pussy streaming and hot. Behind me, my Master supports my back, holding me at the waist, taking some of my weight, as Michael pumps me.

Volcanically aroused, rocking my body to meet my Golden Lover, to match him, I ride the wave. Thrusting to take him, our bodies colliding, we fuck our way to climax. As the rush takes me, I howl, aware that Michael is also cumming. His body juddering against mine, his head is bowed towards me as he groans, spilling himself inside me.

Almost immediately, my Master, his hands still at my waist, pulls me free of Michael, and upright, standing me safely. He fumbles for a moment at the cuffs, unlooping the rope, releasing my arms from their raised position.

He and Michael change places, Michael behind me, my Master before me. Tottering slightly, I would still fall, but Michael supports me, gently lowering me. Hands on my shoulders guide me down.

Michael’s voice, “Kneel for your Master.”

On my knees, still blind and fettered, I hover uncertainly, but Michael’s hands on my shoulders steady me. He sweeps my hair around behind my shoulders, then entwines one hand into it, gripping me, controlling me.

I scent my Master. He is very close. The warm pungency of his groin swirls around my face, his cock pushing at my lips.

The grip on my hair tightens. “Let him in, Charlotte.”

I part my lips, licking at the salty trickle there. Michael’s voice again, “Open wider. Do your duty by your Master.”

My Master is tremblingly hard, huge in my mouth. Bound as I am, I can do nothing but receive him, as he eases in and out of me. Michael rocks my head to his rhythm, matching me to his pace. As I try to suck, to encircle him with my lips, fluid streams a delicately briny trail over my tongue.

I feel the pulsing first, hear the groan from above. The shaft engorges, stiffens, and hot cum fills my mouth. For a moment, thrusting forward, my Master’s cock threatens to block my throat, before withdrawing, pumping its load into me.

I cannot swallow properly. My mouth filled, I splutter and gag, hot cum escaping my lips to trickle down my face, and hot droplets splash down onto my breasts.

With a gasp, my Master pulls free. Fingers work at the cuffs. More fingers unbind my eyes, and I blink in the dim/blindingly brilliant candlelight.

Both men smiling down at me, I am offered hands, helping me up. Michael dresses me, sliding me back into the dress, rebuttoning me at the neck.

My Master spots the remains of the wine. “Refill anyone?”

*****

The following day, back at the office:

“Have you ever taken meeting minutes, Charlotte?”

“No, I haven’t, Sir.”