CHAPTER 22: The Virgin Fulfilled, Part 1
As the glitter fades, I have a final moment as my Master cums and spurts. His cream jets, hot over my lips and tongue, and as my mouth fills my pussy leaps again. I convulse, a paroxysm of pleasure once more rippling through me.
The cock in my mouth juddering and dripping, my pounding cunt clenching and pulsating, I scream. My hands flail, snatching at whatever is in reach: my Master’s thighs. My pelvis bucks and jerks and I find myself whooping and laughing. It is so good, I don’t know what else to do.
I am still laughing as my Master pulls away from me and joins Michael, now sitting by me, watching my performance with a sparkling smile.
“I trust all was in order my Lady?” he asks. Michael is not generally talkative, so I feel that I have made an impression.
I lie back, limp, exhausted but grinning like an idiot. “You could say that.”
My Master looks amused. “You’re going to wear us both out Charlotte. Perhaps we should eat?”
We order food. Steak. Salad. Delicious little baby vegetables, steam-cooked and just crisp. Strawberries and cream. Sitting together on the bed, we share a meal, drink champagne.
“So how shall we say goodbye, Charlotte? Tomorrow’s your last day with us. What would you like to do?”
“Can we go somewhere? The beach again? The mountains? A park perhaps? A picnic would be lovely again.”
We drive up to the mountains. The weather isn’t good enough for a picnic, but we find a hotel overlooking the lake. Great wide picture windows display panoramic views of Heaven and, sitting at a table eating our meal, we watch scudding clouds cast light and shade over sparkling waters.
Back at my Master’s apartment, our mood is quiet. This is our last evening.
I lie on my side, Michael curled in front of me, facing me. Behind me, my Master’s long frame is in ‘spoons’ position, nestled up close behind me. His long arms are wrapped around me in a loose embrace, hands bedevilling my nipples, plucking and teasing, rolling already engorged flesh, between thumb and forefinger.
His stiff cock presses hard against my back, the pulse of his heartbeat echoing through me, counterpointing my own.
Sandwiched between my two Masters, I feel warm, secure and incredibly horny. Although I have barely been touched as yet, my tight closeness with these two men, who take such pleasure in me and in my own pleasure, is winding me gently up the road of arousal. Already I feel wet and ready, pussy vibrating with anticipation, clit slowly pulsing.
A week ago, I knew nothing of this. I was waiting, afraid for what would happen to me over the next few days, as I auctioned myself and my virginity to the highest bidder, hoping desperately that it would be worthwhile, that I would earn enough funds to help me out of my poverty trap and through college to the future I hoped for.
I was lucky. I know I was lucky. It could easily have been different if I’d had another buyer, a man of...different tastes.
But the buyer was my Master here. He took my virginity so carefully, treating my first time as something special. Then he introduced me to Michael, who again, has taken pleasure in pleasuring me.
Ah - the games we have played together...
My Master’s voice, close by my face, “Charlotte, lift your leg slightly. Swing it over Michael’s.”
Obediently, I comply, lifting so that my knee rests over Michael’s thigh. His erection also trembles against me. Easing himself forward, he nuzzles against my engorged and slippery entrance, shifting position carefully before he pushes inside. Slowly he moves, a couple of light thrusts opening me, easing his way in before with a sigh, he slides inside me.
To the rear I feel the chill moisture of lube, then my Master as he inserts an experimental finger, circling and stretching me wider. Then he also, testing me first, smoothly inserts himself, full length, deep within me.
“Everyone comfortable?” whispers my Master.
There is a rumble of agreement from Michael. “Mmm,” I agree, biting my lips in anticipation.
I am quite unable to move. There is no question of my riding the rhythm of my Masters. On this occasion, I will simply be the vessel, not the participant. I will be fucked, pure and simple, from front and rear.
My Master starts it, slipping into a gentle, in-out rhythm. There is no pain, no discomfort, only the sensation of being repeatedly filled. Each time, he presses slowly into me, completely sheathing himself within me, before pausing to withdraw. Gently he moves - a gradual penetration of me.
Michael follows. Equally slowly, he enters me, coating himself in my wetness. He matches my Master’s rhythm, timing his slow thrusting to my Master’s beat.
Pinned front and rear, I lie still, my only movement, the rocking of my body in time to the double penetration of Michael and my Master.
It is slow. A gradual spiralling up the pathway of arousal, a smoking ember, being fanned to flame.
Caged between my two lovers, I am warm, a sheen of perspiration coating my breasts, pressed against Michael’s chest. My Master kisses the back of my neck, nibbling at my ear, the warm scent of his breath curling through my hair. His arms, curled around me, cup my breasts, presenting them to Michael who bends to caress them with his lips and to suck and bite gently at my pale skin.
My Master increases his beat, thrusting harder, deeper, faster. Michael matches him. Caught between the two, doubly pierced by them, I can only groan and gasp at the repeated sensation of being filled and voided, entered, fucked.
My pussy is creaming, juices spilling, working their way front and back. I smell of sex, of sheer animal desire.
Michael breaks beat. Now, instead of two cocks entering me together, I have two alternately, rocking back and forth to a pounding double beat. Michael’s curved position at my front is bringing his cock hard against my G-spot, and I know that he is straining to hit the right spot.
He gazes up at me, holding my eyes as he works me. He is enjoying this, but he is working for my pleasure. They both are. I can feel it, see it. My Master’s breathing behind me is steady, not gasping or straining. He is enjoying this also, but he is working for me. Here, now, on our last night together, these two men are both working for me and my pleasure.
Michael ceases to thrust. Instead, he presses inwards, hard, grinding his shaft in circles inside me. Placing a hand on my belly and pressing inwards, he sandwiches my G-spot between palm and cock.
The effect is electric. My belly muscles spasm uncontrollably, trying to convulse, but the steady pound of my Master pistoning into me at the rear pins me further. I cry out, screaming in ecstasy, yet craving more.
My Master delivers more. He pumps me harder, pounding inwards on me, harder and harder. I cannot speak now. I cannot yell. My only sounds are an inchoate outburst each time he ramrods into me.