Buying the Virgin

Chapter 20: The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Twenty

Michael’s breathing is slow and steady but deepening and his fingers twist into my hair, his grip tightening on me.

Abruptly, he pulls away. “It’s wonderful,” he says, bending to kiss the top of my head. “But I don’t want to blow off in five minutes. We have all evening.”

Un-noticed, my Master has slipped in from the kitchen and is stretched out by us, sprawled in an armchair by the fire, long legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles. A wine glass in his hand, he watches us, smiling; the flicker of the flames through the deep red wine casting amber and ruby shadows over the walls.

Lying down, I stretch like a cat on the fur rug, the light of the flames dancing over my skin, Michael joins me on the fur, stroking my back. His expert fingers ripple up my muscles, probing, investigating.

“You’ve been spending too much time on a computer,” he says. “Your shoulder muscles are knotted. Lie on your front. Let me work them out for you.”

I turn over and Michael straddles me. “I’ll do this properly later, but I need you on a bed for that. For now, I’ll just work on those muscle kinks.”

He is right. As his fingers dig into the knots, kneading them out, I grimace and wince. “Serves you right,” he says. “If you have poor posture or a bad position at your desk, this is the result. Have you got a proper office chair and desk? Your computer at the correct height?”

“I’ve been making do a bit,” I admit. “I wanted the money to stretch out.”

Michael is silent, and I see my Master pursing his lips.

Michael rises, disengaging from me, and slapping me on the rump, then he flips me over onto my back. His strength always surprises me. He’s not particularly tall but is stocky and powerfully built, broad-shouldered and muscular. He turns me over with no obvious effort, sending a rush of arousal through me.

Looking up from my bed of fur, Michael is kneeling to one side of me, my Master behind him, still lounging in his chair. Both are watching me and I feel I should give them something to watch.

I stroke my breasts, cupping and caressing, massaging the smooth pale skin. Tracing the curves with my fingers, I outline my soft white

inviting Michael in. His head tilts, eyes on me as smiling, he unbuttons his shirt and cuffs. Fascinated,

down, he unbelts his jeans, releasing his

Leaning, he kisses my belly and breasts, taking the nipples lightly between his teeth, nibbling gently and swiping around with

outstretched, reaching for my Golden Angel, I beckon him

Master, still watching, his expression solemn, but with the trace of a smile at the corners of his eyes, his dark hair picking up auburn highlights in the

and body, his cock nudging against my swelling pussy lips, but not entering me. Instead, he teases my warming folds, rubbing against my engorging clit,

warm skin and of my own growing arousal mingle into

begin to pant, my hips to quiver. “Please,” I

my pussy, pressing in on my entrance, but still not entering. He revolves his hips, teasing

“Please Michael. Please.”

simply covers my mouth with his, warm lips against mine, his tongue skimming my teeth. His cock continues its relentless beguiling of

take him inside me, thrusting my hips forward to sheath him inside me.

he pulls away, not allowing me to take him. Instead, he backs off, lifts me from under the arms, and twists me around,

fantasy of a beautiful young girl kneeling naked at his feet, and now I see the curve of a smile playing across his lips. His hand caresses my face,

his long cock. As I bend to take it, Michael adjusts his position behind me and his shaft once again probes deliciously against, and into, my

Master’s silken shaft into my mouth, loving it with my tongue, Michael encircles me with his arms, one hand taking a nipple, the other slipping south between

down through me,

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