Buying the Virgin

Chapter 30: The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Thirty

… My Master slips hands into the neckline of the dress, slipping the tiny buttons apart until the halter

falls away.

He continues. “And yet, despite your now having no obligation to do so, you return to me, time and

again....”

He glides the zip of the dress slowly down at the back until it opens, then falls to my feet, leaving me

naked. I see him standing behind me, tall and dark, his face half-shadowed by in candlelight. His hand

circles my waist again, pulling me in close to him.

“…. You keep returning to me Charlotte, and we make love, and we fuck. You accept every challenge I

set you…….”

He stands so close behind me, the bulge of his erection pressing against my back through his clothing.

“……. You kneel at my feet, and you call me ‘Master’.” He kisses the side of my face again. “How do

you think that makes me feel?”

“Master?”

From beyond the room, there is the click of a lock, followed by the sound of a door opening and closing

again. Footsteps, then “James? Charlotte?”

“In here, Michael.” calls my Master.

In the mirror, I stand, my Master behind me, his gaze locked to mine in the glimmering reflections,

embracing me at the waist with one hand, palm flat against my stomach, holding me close to him, so

close. The other hand grazes the contours of my face and neck, cups a breast, then glides south to the

vee of my loins.

I see myself, naked, my chest rising and falling, as my Master’s touch works its magic, my arousal

blooming, desire pooling in my belly, my pussy warming and moistening.

He watches me, knowing what he is doing to me.

And now, Michael is here, my Bright Star. He steps into the room, and I see his eyes, in the mirror, also

meet with my Master’s.

“Change of plan, Michael,” he says shortly. “We won’t be going out this evening.” Fingers are working This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

through my dampening curls, scissoring between my lips to my clit. His eyes still on Michael, I see

something pass between them, then Michael strips off his shirt, removes his shoes.

My hips beginning to judder, my heart to race, I am seized from behind. Both hands clasped around my

waist, my Master lifts, then pulls me backwards towards the bed. He sits, propped on the edge of the

bed, cradling me from behind, as Michael drops to his knees and parts my legs.

Face dipping between my thighs, he continues the work my Master started, lapping at my bud, as it

swells and sensitises. Slipping it from its fleshy sheath, he works me with the very tip of his tongue. I

moan and pant and quiver, as he winds magic circles around my clit. My core heating, my pussy begins

to flow, and he dips further to lick away my nectar.

Michael pushes at my thighs, parting them further, delving in more deeply. My Master responds by

reaching forward, hooking his hands behind my knees to lift my legs up and back, exposing me fully to

Michael’s searching tongue. My Golden Angel plunges his tongue deep into my pussy, probing and

swirling, as I wail my rising passion.

My head resting back against my Master’s chest, his words are whispered close to my ear. “Angry?

How could I be angry with you Charlotte?”

I glance up and back, just in time to see my Master and Michael, momentarily lock eyes again.

Abruptly, the two men both stand up; my Master heaving me upright with him, and then, as he steps

away to one side, propelling me to Michael.

Michael catches me, and then immediately pushes me back down again, flat on my back on the

mattress. As I lie there, my breath slightly knocked away, Michael shucks off his pants and clambers

atop me, straddling my chest. My Master also is stripping off to one side of us.

Michael’s cock, already hard, pushes at my lips. He reaches past me to snatch a pillow, pushing it

under my head for support. As my lips part to take the thick shaft, my Master is between my legs, lifting

my hips in strong hands, to plant his mouth over my streaming pussy.

Michael, smiles down at me, winks as he works himself into my mouth. I don’t try to suck, instead

framing my lips over my teeth to catch the ridge of his cock-head as he gently thrusts, back and forth,

streaming a thin trail of pre-cum over my tongue as he does so.

My Master, sucking on my swollen pussy lips, is sending my hips into paroxysms. Jerking

spasmodically, I shudder and squirm as he licks out my entrance, lapping upwards through my folds,

around my twitching clit, and back again.

Again, he does this, and again, in a steady rhythm that is sending me quickly crazy. Out of control, I

howl my rapture. Michael, seeing what is happening, withdraws from my mouth, unstraddles me and

moves instead to kneel behind me. Seizing me by the wrists, pulling my arms back over my head, he

pins me top-wise, as bottom-wise, I am pinned by my Master. Spiralling up the path of climax, looking

up, I see him, gazing down at me, soft-eyed, watching my rise to orgasm.

With a scream, I come, and as my pulsing pussy gushes, my hips judder and buck. I writhe, held at the

wrists by Michael, at the hips my Master. Electric waves ripple through me as my Master continues to

mouth and suck at my ecstatically clenching cunt.

The pleasure of my Master’s mouth on my palpitating core becomes excruciating. “Enough!” I scream.

“Enough Master!”

He pulls away from me, watching as I continue to ride the wave of my orgasm.

My climax abating, he drives forward again, plunging his hard cock deep into my soaked pussy. Lying

flat atop me, arms wrapped around in a loose embrace, he thrusts hard, hard enough to hurt against

my inner walls, but I want this pain, gifted to me by my loving Master.

Then with a jerk and a tug, he turns, flipping over, taking me with him, so that now I lie above him, his

cock still pressed inside me, stretching me with his girth.

Instantly, from behind, Michael seizes my hips, lifting me a little onto my knees. My Master continues to

fuck me from below, but from above, there is the sudden spurt of damp chill that tells me Michael is

applying lube to my rear entrance.

My Master meets my eyes, then, his gaze passing over my shoulder to Michael behind me, he slows

his thrusting a little. Michael probes at me with a finger, cold and wet, sending an involuntary frisson

through me. The finger runs a circuit through the ring of muscle, easing me open before a second

finger joins it, stretching me wider. Then Michael’s warm body leans over mine as his shaft, wide and

hard, pushes slowly into me, easing within.

Leaning forward to accommodate him, my breasts swing low over my Master’s face and I manoeuvre

to allow him to catch a nipple in his lips. He sucks gently, then swings his face to take the other.

My breath rapid and shallow, I hold steady as Michael penetrates me, easing in, then out, in a little

deeper, then out again. In and out once more, before finally sheathing himself inside me, to the full, his

balls swinging against my upturned derriere, as he hilts himself.

His arms curve around me, lifting me more upright, his hands cupping my breasts, and he starts to

thrust. My Master matches him from below. Filled front and back by my Golden Lover and my Master, I

rock back and forth to their movement.

My climax, which I thought had passed, begins to rise once more, bubbling up from deep within, welling

outwards from my liquid core until, as I cry out, it shatters through me again. My inner muscles in

spasm, I try to retain some control - I want to watch my Master as he comes - and between gasps, I

see him react as my clutching cunt clenches, and re-clenches around his cock. He heaves and gasps,

head tilting forward, eyes squeezed closed as he comes, pulsing his climax into my throbbing pussy.

Within seconds, Michael behind me also gasps and presses hard against me. His hands grip my

breasts more and more tightly, fingers digging in. Gyrating his hips against me, he pumps me full of his

hot cream.

Still panting, I realise I am dripping perspiration down onto my Master, and belatedly, try to wipe it from

his face.

He laughs. “A bit late for that Charlotte.” He has a point; his dark hair plastered to his skull by his own

sweat.

Michael releases his death-grip from my breasts, pulls his deflating cock from inside me and flops down

onto to the bed, stretched out flat, staring at the ceiling. His chest is still heaving, as he flashes me a

look and a smile, kisses his fingertips and then reaches up to press them to my lips.

My Master, still deep inside me, is gazing up at me, his expression a strange mix of pleasure, fondness

and concern. His hand caresses my face. “I’m sorry Charlotte.”

Michael’s head swings around as he stares at him, puzzlement writ large.

“We asked too much of you Charlotte, asking you to go among strangers. I have always wanted to test

you, but not to push you beyond what you could handle.” Michael stares into space, then nods and

looks away. My Master continues. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “It won’t happen again.”