Buying the Virgin

I ponder Michael’s words. “You said, You and James can afford…?’ I thought….”

“You thought…. what? He’s the one with all the money?”

“Um, yes.”

“I’m not without. He just talks about it more than I do.”

“Oh… I didn’t realise.”

“Well, you never asked. In fact, I’ll admit that your complete lack of interest in money, apart from the pressing problem of paying for your college fees, is quite refreshing. If more women were like that, I might not have lived the happy life of the bachelor free for so long…”

“I don’t like taking money from you. It feels like…”

He looks at me from the side of his eyes. “Charlotte, we’re getting married. You’re entitled to take money from me.”

I digest this. “You’ve had women after you for your money?”

“There’s been a few.” He grins at me.

The grin is infectious. “Er, one of them wouldn’t have been Marcie by any chance?”

He laughs. “And she hits the gold! Yes, Marcie took a shot at me. That was before Steve of course…. and quite a few others for that matter….” He shudders. “Oh, my God, it doesn’t bear thinking about. Marcie, man’s living nightmare. It makes me itch just thinking about her.” He squeezes my shoulders, still laughing.

“I felt just like that, about that Steve of hers, but you’d better be careful. With Steve knocked out of the running, she might be after you again.”

He snorts. “Charlotte, not if she were the last woman on Earth, would I stick my cock inside Marcie.” He shudders as he chuckles.

I laugh, and he smiles at me, tracing my face with his fingers. “It’s good to see you smile.” I lean into his touch as he strokes my face, and he wraps an arm around my shoulders.

A breeze springs up and I goose-pimple. Michael feels me shiver. “Want to walk again? Warm up a bit? Perhaps down to the lake?”

lilies spread their green pads across the shallows, framing oyster-pink flowers, seemingly carved from wax. A little way along, old willows line the edge, straddling

around, scanning

you

He smiles, “Privacy.”

no-one about, only the two of us. He leads me by the hand. Under the cover of the trees, in an enclosed bower formed

rebellious as ever. A hand on either cheek, he bends, brushing his lips against mine; a

mind, my body responds to him, a tingle running through me, smooth and warm. My lips parting, I slip fingers

you,”

“I love you too.”

hear it, I want it to

“Michael, I….”

to my lips, then casts around, looking at the ground. He takes off his jacket, spreading it over the grass. “Lie

on a shoulder. As I lie back on his jacket, I start to pull up my tee-shirt. He presses my hand down. “No, you’ll be cold. Keep it on. Um, you can take the

I unravel the laces

me naked below the waist. Kneeling between my legs, he stoops

eyes closed. The warmth of his breath curls over my thighs, the heat of his lips on my skin.

Except….

you believe me, when I say

and slides up my body, his face settling next to mine.

more women than, I believe, you have had

settles between my thighs, kissing my neck, hands running over

here we

on an elbow, looking down at me, his lips pressed together, and gives a small nod of acknowledgement. “And yet, here we are…”

you isn’t

into mine, soft, semi-lidded. He strokes my face. “That’ll do.” And he bends to kiss me, opening his mouth over

he presses himself inside me, I welcome him in. With series of short, gasping breaths, I arch, raising my hips to meet him. He thrusts forwards slowly, in slow strokes, easing in, coating

motion, he takes me, loving me with his body, his

mind, I am not capable of it, and I think he understands this. But he does, sighing into my neck and hair, as he climaxes within

of my throat, then raises himself again, gazing down at me. “Whatever it takes, whatever it is, I will be here for you.