Buying The Virgin Part 1-3

My Master knows what I want. I do want to touch him. Never have I been so close to a male body. My fingers barely grazing his skin, I follow the line of his shoulders, his chest, the small nubs of his nipples with their aura of hairs, the tight outline of his abs and taut, flat stomach. I know how Columbus must have felt, exploring new worlds.

I kiss his chest, lightly, wanting to press my face into him, to take in his wonderful scent, but nerves take me again and I back off, embarrassed.

“Charlotte, it’s fine. If you want to do it, then do it.” His hand slips to the back of my head, not pressing, but guiding me in.

Encouraged, I kiss again, tracing the line of his chest. My lips brush past a nipple and I take it into my mouth, tasting, for the first time, the salty flavour of him, savouring the crinkled texture of the nipple.

Abruptly, he gasps, drawing a deep breath. “Fuck Charlotte! I hoped this was going to be good, but…”

He grabs me by the shoulders, pulling me upright, in the first ungentle move he has made. “Ye gods girl! Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

Abashed, I reply, “I’m sorry Master. I didn’t mean…”

He laughs and grabs my chin with one hand. “That’s not what I meant. You definitely do not need to apologise. I’m just realising that I’m lighting fires that may take some quenching.”

Then he turns serious. “Your turn now.” And he drops to his knees, looking up at me. “Support yourself on me. Your hands on my head or shoulders, whatever you need.”

I don’t understand him at first, but then, as his mouth closes over me, through my panties, I get it. As his warm breath bathes my thighs, and his tongue laps at me through the fabric, fire ignites between my thighs and I cry out. My knees giving under me, my hands scrabble for something to hang on to.

“Gently Girl,” he says as I grab at his hair, trying to stabilize myself against him. “Open your legs a little. Let me at you.”

I move my feet apart a bit, making a small gap between my thighs, watching as my Master slips in a hand and starts to stroke me through the panties. Entirely unsure as to what exactly he is stroking, nonetheless, I shudder and moan as my panties are abruptly wetter, flinging my head back, eyes screwed shut.

“Master. I’m sorry, but I can’t stand up properly.”

think,” he says. And

of hair and sweat, panting uncontrollably, my Master towering above me, looking down, his expression

nervous Charlotte?

not scared, not nervous, not even slightly. I am afire. I want more… But I

at me, assessing, for a long moment,

on the internet, but have never appreciated before, how wonderful an aroused man with an erection can look. The pictures and images I have seen before seemed tawdry and cheap. When I sold

He is magnificent.

I could lose myself in the deep pool of his eyes. His taut muscles outlined and

want him. But I don’t

reach out to him, arms outstretched. Somehow, my hands are drawn to his

it but shakes his head. “Not yet. Not for your first

the pillow, feeling a little petulant. He sees it, cocking an eyebrow. “Madam.

and amusement, I obey my Master. He has

head Charlotte. Clasp

so,

take that position. Later, you will be tied and restrained. Today, simply hold

then hooking fingers into the top of my panties, slides them down and away from me, looking back up at my face

then slips his hands between my knees, encouraging them apart.

from the bed he pushes it under my hips, then pulls me into position. “Swing your legs up. Open your knees. Wider. That’s it. Head down. Hips up.

shoves it under my hips, forcing my back

little more, widening the spread

panting is not just arousal but now real fear. There is a sinking in my stomach. What is he