Buying The Virgin Part 1-3

Michael pumps harder now, his swinging balls colliding with me as he thrusts. I am filled. I feel empowered, glorious, as I take these two men within me, taking what they can give.

Michael’s breathing is growing ragged. He pants and grunts as he spears me. His control is slipping, his cock ruthless as he ploughs into me. Fucking my ass, he begins to tremble and shake. Sweats pours down his face and neck. He drops his head low, his chin almost touching his chest as he groans loudly. With a gasp he plunges deep in, spasming as he cums into me, grinding his hips against me for a long minute.

My Master is also near climax. His lean hips shuddering, shaft throbbing into my mouth, his hands tighten their grip on my shoulders, fingers digging in as his climax builds. With a hot rush, he cums, hammering deep into me, to the back of my throat and pushing down, painting my mouth and the back of my throat with the salty sweetness of his flow. This time I try not to panic. I know he will withdraw quickly, as the rush passes.

Coughing and spluttering through it, I try to take all he can give me but needing to breathe, I try to break away, to take air, but cannot. Oblivious, my Master shoots into me, his cream flooding into me as he convulses and gasps.

Finally, he comes around to my problems and hastily pulls out of me. Spluttering and choking, eyes streaming, I swallow what I can, and cough out the rest.

“Are you alright Charlotte? I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” I reassure him. “It’s okay. Don’t worry.”

He sits beside me on the bed while I clear my airways again, stroking my head and curling my hair around his fingers. When I am breathing normally again, Michael sits on the other side of me, laying a companionable arm around my shoulder.

“Thanks for that Charlotte. It felt great.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Feel up to the rest of it now?”

“The rest of it? You’ve only just…”

did pretty much the same to your brains, but you haven’t had your turn yet. We can’t have the lady being the

I feel suddenly exhausted again. “Errr…would you

you can Charlotte. You must think us absolute beasts. Come and have a glass

later with a bottle of wine and three glasses. As he passes a glass of the deep rich red to me, “Now, drink that. Make yourself comfortable.

says. “Go on. You’re not supposed to

fruitiness is quite a nice counterbalance to the bitter-sweet

a bottle of some kind of oil. It smells sweet, spicy and…not exactly savoury…but sort of wholesome, all at once. He sees my quizzical glance. “Almond oil, with lavender and geranium to work their magic on you.

to massage my feet. Each foot is rubbed and fondled, from toe to heel and beyond up the ankles and further. He is quite skilful and I

“You’ve done this before?”

and I’m rather conscious that we’ve asked a lot of you over the last few days. So now it’s your

works his way up my body. I suspected when I first saw him, with his stocky muscular physique, that he did some kind of manual work, but this never occurred to me. As he works on individual muscles in my legs, I examine him, admittedly now through a slightly alcoholic haze. His whole body is tough and muscular, but his hands, in particular, are

I wince. “Take it easy, girl. I’m going to work these knots out

is doing as he works my lower legs, but as he reaches my thighs he says softly, almost

my long thigh muscles, fingers smoothing over skin moved deeply by the heel of his hand, he does not roam to my sex. Nonetheless, he holds my eyes as

my hands before I wander around there again. Some things are meant

Silky as satin. Why did I never notice

flat on the

help but watch his cock nestling in its nest, quiescent now with his mind on other

hands sweep soft glory across my stomach then, as he glances backwards for a moment, stray onto my breasts. He hitches himself forward a little before I suddenly realise what is happening. There is a second pair of hands on

Charlotte.” As I do so, they are eased apart. Warm