Buying the Virgin

Chapter 34: The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Thirty-Four



Chapter 34: The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Thirty-Four

Michael’s smile broadens. “Not yet. I want to take my time with you.” And he drops to all fours, his

mouth poised over my clit.

He does not move immediately, simply holding his position, so that the heat of his breath laves my

engorged folds. My hips starting to judder, he kisses me lightly, so lightly, on my nub, sending ripples

through the muscles of my belly and thighs. My quiet moans give way to breathy panting, and my spine

arches upwards to meet him.

Using a finger to release my clit from its sheath, his lips wrap around the stiff bud and the tip of his

tongue begins to circle. As it makes gradual circuits around the twitching nub, winding it around in idle

coils, my hot pussy flows in earnest. He takes a moment to lap up my juices, before returning to his

work of winding my clit through slow spirals, but my molten cunt still streams hot juices over my thighs.

As my climax arises, spinning outwardly from Michael’s circling of my clit, my pussy trembles and

clenches. Looking down the length of my body, to watch him as he works, through the flushed and

gleaming valley between my breasts, I see his golden locks and the occasional flash of his blue eyes,

as he glances upwards to my face.

My body beginning to judder out of control, my orgasm poised to spill, he drops further in, to drive into

my pulsing cunt with his tongue. Probing deeper, he swirls his spirals within me, making whorls that

wipe by my inner muscles…. and my orgasm bursts free. Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

Cunt clenching, belly pulsing, I howl out my rapture as Michael continues his coils and twirls inside my

throbbing pussy.

It is ecstatic.

It is rhapsodic.

It is…. too much…

“Oh God, that’s enough! Stop Michael. Please stop.”

He withdraws and clambers up to lie alongside me again, his hard erection throbbing against my thigh

once more. Stroking my belly, as I descend from the heights, he kisses a breast, then the other, joy in

his eyes.

“Good?” he asks.

“God yes, it was, very good. But what about you?”

“Later,” he says. “It’s not so easy for me to…re-charge, as for you.”

“Later?”

That grin returns, like a little boy in a sweet shop. “I seriously doubt whether James plans to leave you

with your clothes on all night. But I wanted you to myself for a while”

“D’you think he’s going to mind? That we just….”

“Mind? Why would he mind? The two of us have always shared you.”

But through the afterglow of orgasm, a knot of worry settles in my stomach. Have I done something I

shouldn’t have? Will my Master be angry with me?

*****

He arrives a couple of hours later. I have never seen him in formal business suit before. He looks

astonishing, his long, lean frame carrying the expensively tailored suit, gleaming white shirt and silk tie,

with an elegant ease.

“Master, you look amazing.”

“Thank you, Charlotte. It goes without saying that, so do you.” He glances around. “Is Michael here?”

“He was, but he said he had some errands to run, and he would be back in a while.”

He takes off his jacket, hanging it carefully on a hook by the door, unknots the tie, hanging it with the

jacket, and undoes the top button of his shirt. “God, it’s good to get out of that,” he says. Then he hugs

me, kissing my forehead.

“The two of you had a good day while I was out then?” he smiles.

?

Oh, God.

My heart sinks.

“How did you know Master?”

“Charlotte, I’m sure you have bathed or showered since, but I can smell Michael on you.”

Biting my bottom lip, “Are you angry Master?”

His eyebrows arch. “Angry? Why would I be angry?”

“That we…. well we…. and you weren’t here.”

He laughs and kisses me firmly on the lips. “Charlotte. Michael is your lover. Of course, the two of you

should enjoy each other, take pleasure in each other, whenever you feel inclined, whether or not I am

here……” He tilts his head at me. “However, if I should be here, be sure that I will…. contribute…”

He glances at the clock. “Lunch-time I think. Have you eaten Charlotte? A light lunch I think, then I

have work to do this afternoon. And I think you also need to do work towards your exams, yes?”

*****

With my exams looming, I am studying hard, but I have been staring at the pages of my text for several

hours.

I sigh. Sitting on the rug, leaning up against Michael, who is lying on the couch behind me, is nice, but

the book I am studying is giving me a headache.

“Can I help Charlotte?” asks Michael, looking up from the book he is reading; something light, with a

skimpily clad woman, and a revolver on the cover.

“Only if you can explain to me how finite element analysis is supposed to work in practice.” I bang the

book down on the floor in frustration, raising my hands to Heaven. “It looks great on a diagram, with

one or two points of reference, but how on earth you would use it to perform a real-life calculation on

something physical when there are thousands of points, I’ve no idea…”

Michael looks blank. “Sorry I asked. Well beyond me I’m afraid.”

“You’re quite right Charlotte. It’s a wonderful idea in theory, that is completely useless in practice unless

you have a computer to do the donkey work.” My Master looks at me across his desk in the corner of

the room, and I stare at him. He continues “Fortunately, these days we do have computers.”

“Master? You’re a physicist?”

“Nope. I’m an engineer. But there is a large overlap between the two disciplines.”

“I didn’t know that.”

He purses his lips in that not-quite-smile of his. “You never asked.”

“So, what do you actually do?”

“I’m a design engineer cum architect. Right now, I’m working on the designs and structural calculations

for a new bridge, for the company that owns this hotel in fact. Which is why we always have access to

this beautiful apartment. My accommodation, when I’m working in town here, is written into the

contract. In fact, finite element analysis is a rather large part of the work I do. Let me see what you’re

struggling with….”

I shake my head. My Master has depths I never expected.

*****

I stretch and yawn, rubbing my neck.

“Tired?” asks Michael.

“Yeah. A bit stiff too. I need a break.”

Michael’s strong, capable hands massage my stiff neck and shoulders. “Why don’t I go out and bring

some food in?”

“We could use room service, save you the trip.”

“I fancy a change,” he says. “Chinese food maybe, or Italian perhaps? James?”

My Master looks up from his laptop. “Sounds good to me. Get what you like.”

Michael vanishes with a clink of car keys, muttering about spring rolls and noodles. Bored, I stare at the

door, and then at my Master. I wander over and start to rub his neck, doing for him what Michael just

did for me.

He stretches and yawns, but rolls his head appreciatively, back against my hands. “Thanks, but I

thought you had work to do? “

“Well, yes, but I need a break.”

“You need a break, so I have to be disturbed?” Humour creases the corners of his eyes.

“Well, I thought Master that perhaps.…….”

He smiles, takes my hand and kisses the fingers

I'd love to, but I need to work for now. We'll play later when Michael gets back.”

Piqued, I sit on the couch, staring into space for a minute, then parting my legs, I hitch my skirt a little

higher, ensuring that my Master has a good view.

Slowly, I start to rub the silk of my panties. I don’t speak, but after a few moments, my Master glances

up, at first casually and then, with a double-take, back again as he registers what I am doing.

He chuckles. “Charlotte, as I say, I really would love to, but later. I have to work right now.” His eyes

drop back to his laptop screen, but I continue, stroking my thighs, parting them a little wider.

After a minute, my Master looks up again.

He sighs, sitting back in his chair, regarding me with his lean, sombre face.

“Girls who tease should be careful,” he says, in his slow, honeyed voice. “They may get more than they

bargained for.”

I smile at him, still stroking the dampening fabric of my panties.

“Really Charlotte….” he says, a note of irritation in his voice.

Tugging open a desk drawer, he takes out a vibe and tosses it to me.

“Go on then, if you want to perform for me, get on with it….”

A little disconcerted, I continue. My Master does not smile broadly very often and is normally reserved,

but always, under the surface, I can detect my Smiling Master. Where is he now?


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