CHAPTER 63: The Virgin’s Summer, Part 3
“What do you think James?” he asks, looking up over my shoulder. “Do I take her all the way there yet, or do we work her a bit more?”
“Oh, a bit longer yet, I think,” says my Master. “I want to watch her suck you off.”
“Sounds good to me.”
My Master heaves, pulling me up by my wrists into a standing position, then he spins me to where Michael is taking the chair he just vacated. Michael sits, sprawled, his cock tremblingly erect against his stomach. Glistening in the sunlight, from the slit trickles a little pre-cum.
My Master tosses a cushion onto the tiles, kneeling me down on it. He manoeuvres me between Michael’s knees, bending me over, pressing my head to his cock. A hand twisted into my hair, he rubs my face over the cock-head, leaving a trail of pre-cum over my skin.
“Do your work, Madam,” he says. “Let’s see you get a good mouthful from him.” And he slaps me, right over the stripes on my buttocks. I yell but now aroused, my pussy wells up hot.
He knows me too well, does my Master.
As I wrap my lips around Michael’s hard shaft, my Master, behind me, is arranging me to his satisfaction, parting my knees, pulling my hips up. With Michael leaking, briny-sweet into my mouth, slowly my Master penetrates me from the rear.
Slowly he fills me, his cock working me. He rotates his hips, rubbing at my g-spot inside, making me twitch, as I work the tip of my tongue around the ridge of Michael’s shaft.
Michael is growing breathy. His fingers holding my face to either side, he begins to work my head up and down, sliding me over his cock. I tighten my lips around him, struggling a little with his girth, but making it as good for him as I can. He cums with a growl, and I suck and lap and lick, as he gushes his stream into me. Pressing himself inside, I gag as his penis pushes into my throat, before he remembers himself, pulling me away again.
Freed from Michael, once more my Master grasps my hair, winding it around his fingers, pulling my head back, and straining me backwards to kneel upright against him as he pumps me.
Michael reaches down, fingering my clit as my Master locks my arms behind me, fucking me hard all the time. Each thrust is individual, rammed hard up into me, and all the while Michael plays with my bud, rubbing gently between thumb and forefinger as my pussy leaks hotly down inside my thighs.
Orgasm spears through me, exquisite and sharp, sending my pussy into throbbing paroxysms. I think this triggers my Master’s climax as my cunt clenches and reclenches around him. He holds me ever more tightly as he presses into me and I scream out my own orgasm.
“Michael stop. For God’s sake, stop.” My pulsing clit is released, and I drop forward onto all fours, my Master atop and inside me.
As he pulls out of me, his final gesture is to slap my ass again, squarely on the sore spot. I yelp.
“Say, ‘Thank you, Master’.”
“Thank you, Master.” I grin up at him.
Michael stares at me, shaking his head.
We choose the largest, front bedroom as our accommodation. Again, it overlooks the sea, with windows to front and both sides.
Wearing a large furry bathrobe, I stand, staring out, watching a yacht on the horizon as it sails out, falling over the edge of the world...
Michael unpacks, hanging his clothes neatly. My Master I notice is looking speculatively across the room.
“Something wrong, Master?”
“Not at all. I was just... wondering… about Richard Haswell’s tastes…”
I look around. At first glance, it is a perfectly normal, although very grand, bedroom. Then I look at it again, through my Master’s eyes, taking in a few details.
The bed is a four-poster, solidly built in timber. Several brass rings support heavy curtains on the frame, but they do look very secure. Those rings would easily support the weight of, say, a human body.
There is a basket weave chair, supported from a hook in the ceiling and overlooking the amazing view. Again, nothing in itself, but I follow the line of my Master’s speculations.
“You think this is a… playroom… disguised as a bedroom, Master?”
He sucks in his cheeks. “Let’s say that I think it would be very easy to adapt it for other uses than sleeping…” He eyebrow flashes me, smiling.
I can’t disagree with him and find my pussy abruptly warming over.
Both Michael and my Master look at me, grinning...
Oh, damn.
I could stamp my foot.
“How do you both know?” I ask in exasperation.
Michael leans into me, his voice low “Oh, Charlotte. Sorry, but when you feel horny, you are completely transparent.”
“What do you think of that pool?” asks my Master. “It’s pretty private here. No-one’s going to disturb us...”
The three of us... in the water...
My pussy floods.
“Oooh… you two...”
“Do you want to Fuck?” asks Michael, moving in close.
“Or do you want to Make Love?” asks my Master.
“I want to have holiday fun,” I say, with all the dignity I can muster. “And I want to have it with my two Lovers, preferably with them not behaving as though my brain is a notice board.”
They exchange glances. I recognise that look. It’s that weird telepathy thing they have going on when they decide between themselves how they are going to fuck me.
How do they do it?
It’s not the first time I have asked myself this...
Abruptly, I am picked up, my Master hooking me under one arm, Michael under the other, and carried bodily down the stairs. Kicking and struggling, shrieking with laughter, I am carried outside, stripped of my bathrobe and dumped in the pool.
Michael shrugs off the robe he was wearing and jumps in after me. My Master simply undresses by the side of the pool and dives in, cutting a clean line through the water with his long frame.
Michael grabs me from behind, hauling me to the edge where he hooks an arm around the sidebar, and the other under my arms, effectively anchoring me.
“Lean back against me,” whispers Michael. “Let yourself float.”
My head resting back against Michael’s warm chest, I allow my legs to drift on the surface. It feels odd, resting against him like this, and for a moment, I don’t understand why. Then, I realise that floating in the warm water like this, close as we are, I can’t smell him, his wonderful scent washed away.
My Master swims up close, opening my legs.
It occurs to me to wonder how the two of them will manage with the cooling effect of the water and the um... shrinkage... problem…
Of course, there’s more than one way to skin a cat...