by Simone Leigh
“I’ll come, Master. I want to do some shopping; a couple of new tee-shirts and stuff. And I’ll pick up some groceries too.”
He swallows it whole.
“Fine. Perfect. We’ll set off early.”
I drive, dropping my Master off at the Haswell Building for his meeting. “What time should I pick you up?”
“I’ll send you a message when I think we’re going to wrap up. Just check your phone every hour or so. Could be a quick meeting. Could be all day.”
So… I may not have too much time…
I park up, and then go straight to my destination. I make my purchase with little difficulty. The man in the shop understands exactly what I want, and promises to have it ready for me in a few days. Gulping a little at the hole I have just made in my bank account, I set off to find the new clothes that are supposed to explain my visit here.
As it turns out, my Master’s meeting is short. After only a couple of hours, he messages me.
Ready whenever you are. Come and pick me up. Lunch out?
Great. Picnic in the park?
Perfect.
I collect a basket of ‘picnic-ables’ and pick up my Master. He is wearing his best ‘Cat that got the Cream’ face.
“A good meeting?”
“Great meeting.” he says. “They’ve confirmed the offer of a directorship, and the draft papers were waiting for me.” He pats his briefcase. “A few days to look them over, and make any amendments, and it’s all agreed.”
“Congratulations, Master. You deserve it. I know you’ve worked hard for it.” Then I can’t resist the urge to tease. “Umm… I do hope you weren’t planning on celebrating it the same way you did the last time…?”
“The last time…?”
Then he gets it; I can’t believe it, he flushes red, looking anywhere but at me.
“Treat yourself to a different present, this time perhaps? No more virgins to buy?”
He smiles, sheepishly. “Um, no perhaps not. I’ve got my hands full with the one I have. How did you…”
“I figured it out, Master.” Laughing, I drive us to the park, where we find a spot overlooking the river, to sit and eat.
Summer is here, and the weather is glorious. We sit under blue skies, watching sparkling waters, and tossing bits of bread to the ducks.
As I lean my head into the crook of his neck, he wraps his arm around my shoulders.
“Are you happy, Charlotte?”
“Very happy, yes…. It’s just, I wish…”
“Mmm? What?”
“I wish Michael was here too.”
He kisses the top of my head. “We’ll head back soon; see how he’s doing back there.”
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A week later, my Master is returning to the City, hopefully to sign up for the final agreement on his new directorship.
Perfect timing.
“I’ll come with you again, Master, if that’s alright. Some of those clothes I bought last week aren’t a good fit. I need to change them.”
“Fine. A picnic again?”
“Lovely.”
________________________________
The following day, I drop my Master back at the offices, collect my purchases, and pick him up again an hour or so later.
He is triumphant.
“I’ve got it, Charlotte! I’ve got it. We’re going to celebrate!”
“Shall we go back to the house Master? Then Michael can celebrate too?”
He kisses me, full on the mouth, squeezing me in his enthusiasm.“Abso-fuckin-lutely! Let’s get back.”
_________________________________
Michael makes a show of being as pleased for my Master as I am. We crack open a bottle of champagne. My Master talks for ages about his plans for his new position, and Michael and I let him just speak. He is enjoying himself so much. I want him to have his moment.
But I am conscious that, however happily I have ‘made up’ with my Lovers, they have not truly made up with each other.
Things are still strained between them, and they are both treating me like a porcelain doll; as though I might crack if they touch me at all ungently.
I do not want to be a porcelain doll….
I set my plans. The two are chatting, politely, but a little coolly still. I leave them with it. “Just going for a bath. I’m having a bit of a soak. Back in a while.”
I have my bath, but it is a quick one. Drying my hair to a cloud of red that billows and cascades around me, I make up, elaborately. My lips are deep red, eyes very dark.
And I dress in the clothes I have chosen for the occasion.
Stepping into the lounge, I pause, leaning up, posing, one arm upstretched against the wall, standing very straight, head high, waiting to be noticed.
My Master glances my way, then does a double take. Michael follows his glance and stares.
I am not in any case short, but in four-inch heels, I am very tall, emphasising the length of my black stocking be-clad legs. The corset I am wearing has been chosen carefully; black leather, cinched in tight at the waist, lifting and presenting my breasts. My already good figure, is an hourglass. At my neck, I wear a heavy collar of black gems, that glint and shimmer as I move.
I know that I look spectacular.
And, I do not look remotely virginal….
“Let’s get a few things straight.” I say to my startled Lovers. “This has gone on long enough. I’m fine. But you two are going to drop your differences, and go back to being the friends you really are. Between you, you have ensured over the last year or so that I am thoroughly non-virginal, and I don’t wish to be treated like a fragile doll by you now. I do expect to fuck, and be fucked, hard, by both the men in my life.”
They remain silent, still staring, although both are beginning to bulge in their pants.
“So,” I continue, “what are you both going to do about it?”
Michael acts first. Striding over, he stands in front of me. In my heels, I am only just shorter than he is, and almost, I can look him in the eye.
He is such a beautiful man, his blond hair, now streaked almost to white by the sun, and his eyes, an intense blue, set against his deep beach tan.
His hand curves around the back of my head. Twisting his fingers into my hair, he pulls my face towards him, forcing me into an open-mouthed kiss. The kiss is hard and long, and, as he presses himself against me, his erection is hard against my thigh.
Then he breaks away, turning me, propelling me across the room. Hands on my shoulders, he pushes me down. “On your knees, Charlotte, for your Master.”
Michael’s fingers still gripping my hair, my Master, with that invisible smile of his, which I had almost forgotten, crinkling at the corners of his dark eyes, strokes my up-curved breasts. Then he prises them free of the corset, to play with the nipples.
Already my pussy is warming. He pinches at my nipples, sending pangs skipping down inside me, to electrify my heating core.
“Suck me off, Charlotte. Then, I want to see you do the same for Michael. We’ll take it from there, shall we?”
His eyes glance upwards for a moment. I recognise that look, when he and Michael are agreeing together how to fuck me.
I’ve not seen that look for too long, but now it has returned, and I smile.
“Yes, Master.”
He is bulging. Edging forward between his legs, I unbelt and unzip him, struggling a little to release his already hard cock from his clothes. Michael releases his grip on my hair, and behind me, I hear the sounds of undressing.
As I drop to wipe my tongue across the droplet seeping from my Master’s cock-head, fingers probe behind me, dipping into my pussy, testing me.
Michael’s voice, “She’s dripping. Our Charlotte’s back again.”
Then his hand pushes the back of my head, pressing me down over my Master’s pulsing shaft. “Go on. We both expect to see more than that in there. Get your mouth around him properly.” I gape, as pushed i
nexorably downwards, the thick shaft penetrating my mouth, I take as much as I can.
“Thank you, Michael. I believe I can handle matters at this end. You make sure that that end is kept busy.”
Michael rams into me from behind, making me ‘Mmmfff!!!’ through my mouthful of cock. He pumps hard, my pussy streaming as he pistons into me. A hand snakes around me, reaching in below, to tweak and flutter at my engorging clit.
“God, Charlotte, you look hot.” says Michael. “Love the outfit.”
“Mmm, Michael. Lift her up for me, let me get a better look.”
Still ram-rodding me, Michael grips me by the hair again, kneeling me upright against himself, arching me backward, to display me to my Master.
As I am pulled free of my Master’s gleaming cock, for a few moments, he simply sits, watching Michael fuck me from behind, gently stroking his own erection, then “Play with yourself, Charlotte.”
I reach for my breasts, to finger my nipples, but, “No, there.” He eye-points down. Open yourself. Play with your clit.”
It isn’t easy. My position is awkward, and every couple of seconds, Michael’s cock is plunging deep inside, spearing me, knocking me off balance, but he wraps an arm around my waist, supporting me against his movements. “Do as your Master tells you Charlotte. He wants to watch you finger yourself.”
My pussy floods at his words, scalding juices trickling down inside my thighs. My fingers slip through my wet, red curls, one hand parting my lips, opening myself so far as I can, the other working circles around my stiff bud.
Trembling, as I play and finger my nub, my Master’s cock quivers and pulses, his heartbeat visible.
“Michael, would you mind?”
“Not at all.” And I am pulled backward, off my knees and onto my back on the floor.
The two men stand over me. “Couch or bed?” says Michael.
“Couch I think. It’s nearest.” replies my Master.
He grabs me by the ankles, Michael by my wrists, and they lift me bodily, dumping me, sitting slouched down on the settee. I am tugged forward, my legs overhanging the edge, and my Master sits on the carpet, settling, his head between my thighs.
Michael kneels across me, straddling my lap, his cock glistening with my juices, pushing at my lips. “Open wide.” he says. “You’re taking the full load, then you’re going to lick me clean…. but where are you going to take it, I wonder?”
Obediently, I open my mouth and Michael pushes in. Again, pinning my head by my hair, he works his cock-head against my lips, in and out, in and out, drawing the hard ridge against the outline of my mouth, and streaming pre-cum over my tongue.
“James, what do you think? Do I shoot in her mouth, or over her tits?”
“In her mouth,” replies my Master. “I’ve never tit-fucked her before, but this is too good an opportunity to miss.”
And with that, he fastens his mouth over my glowing pussy, plunging in deeply with his tongue.
I can’t yell, gagged by Michael face-fucking me, but I spasm and jerk. My body struggles against the fire bathing my loins, the electricity sparking through my convulsing cunt, but again, Michael has me pinned, his weight above me.
He looks down as I writhe and lurch under him. “Here it comes.” he says, and with a gasp, he spurts, hot and creamy, his bitter-sweet cum coating my mouth. He pulls out, still streaming. “Swallow.” he instructs.
I gulp, his cock still trickling over my lips. “Lick it off. We don’t want your face dirty for James.”
I suck at my lips, licking away the remains of his load. “Now me. I want a nice clean cock. I may want to use it again later.”
I lick up and down his length, the taste of myself and Michael intermingled as I wash him with my tongue.
“That’s right, all of it. Head, shaft and balls.”
I try to obey, but my Master is gently torturing my pussy. Sucking at my labia, stretching them between lips and teeth, running long, slow swipes of his tongue through my seething pussy, my folds and across my clit.
Quivering and quaking, my breath is fast and short, sweat gleaming in the tight channel of my cleavage.
Moaning, wailing, I grip Michael’s thighs as my climax builds, my hips shuddering against my Master’s face, until with a howl, I Come.
Orgasm detonates within me. Almost, I cannot draw breath as I scream out, my body locked in ecstatic spasms that spiral out from my pulsing cunt.
“Stop, Master! Please, stop….”
Instantly he withdraws, and Michael climbs off me, standing to one side, watching me as orgasm runs its course through me, and I lie, panting and trembling.
And now I can see my Master, sitting back, watching me. “You look fucking fantastic, you know.” he says. “I love what that corset does to your tits.”
Then he stands, between my legs, holding out a hand. “Sit up.” Pulling me up and forward, he presses his cock, pulsing its metronome beat, against the channel of my cleavage. “Give me your hands.”
He places my fingers to either side of my breasts. “Wrap yourself around me, tightly.”
His long cock sandwiched between my breasts, he thrusts, gently, sliding through my cleavage. The red purple of his swollen cock-head is a stark contrast to the creamy white of my skin, and as he flows, pre-cum and my own sweat make the passage slick and slippery. He glides easily in and out.
“Tighter.” he mutters, his breath growing ragged. I press my hands more tightly around, increasing the pressure for him, moving with his movement so far as I can, looking up into his face as I do so.
“Look down.” he says, through gritted teeth. I drop my gaze, to watch his cock gliding in and out between my breasts.
With a jerk and a groan, he comes, spurting up over my neck and down-turned face, spilling over my breasts, hot and liquid. As the last moment, he pulls free and pushes upwards, to where my lips are parted, waiting for him. His last drops spatter into my mouth as he grips my head, immobilising me, a hand either side of my face.
With a gasp, he pulls free, moving to stand by Michael. They exchange glances, and Michael slaps him on the shoulder. My Master returns the shoulder slap, briefly gripping his hand.
As I lie there, still bathed in sweat and cum, and just knowing that my makeup is panda-eyed, my hair a tumbled mess, both men help me up, to stand between them.
“Thank you, Charlotte.” says my Master. “That was a Gift to remember.” His eyes are soft, smiling.
“Yes,” agrees Michael. “It was.” Again, there is the smile to him that I have missed; the joie de vivre, that is so much a part of my Golden Lover.
“Glad you liked it, Guys, but that was the Ceremony, not the Gift.” Michael looks at me in surprise. My Master raises an eyebrow.
“I have something for the both of you now.”
From my bag, I retrieve my gifts; two small, identical boxes, and making sure that I know which is which, I give one to my Master, and one to Michael.
They have both seen boxes identical to these before, and know, before they open them, what is inside; for Michael, a braided ring of yellow and white gold, for my Master, one of red and yellow gold.
They each look at them in silence, then at me, and each other.
Michael slips his on, and my Master follows.
They don’t say anything. It feels almost weird. But Michael’s eyes are brimming as he holds me, his face tucked into my shoulder. My Master peels me away from him, pressing his lips to mine.
Finally, my Master breaks the silence. “You know, I think there is another bottle of champagne in the fridge.”
“Great idea.” says Michael, and vanishes into the kitchen.
My Master’s eyes slide sideways to mine. “Clever Girl, Charlotte. Very well played. Perfect, in fact.”
Michael returns and we top up our glasses.
Michael, unusually for him, speaks up first. “A toast, to my Best Friend, and my Wife-to-Be.”
We clink glasses. My Master speaks. “To my Closest Frie
nd and my Wife de facto.”
How do I follow that?
“To my Both my Husbands.”
The Virgi n’s Summer
Part Three
A Continuing Tale of
(Ex-)Virgin Erotica, BDSM and Ménage
with Two Masters and More……
Part Fifteen Of
The ‘Buying the Virgin’ Series
Author: Simone Leigh
The Virgin’s Summer
Part Three
Under the shade of a palm tree, hot sun, scalding the sky to a white shimmer, sends reflections blindingly across the pool. Michael, suckling at my nipple, cupping the breast in one hand, is playing havoc with my clit with the fingers of the other.
Lying on a couple of beach towels, with just enough breeze to make the hot air bearable, I came out to lie in the shade. My Golden Lover arrived minutes later with a bottle of oil in his hand, and the devil in his eyes.
“You’ll burn if you lay out like that, skin like yours. Let me oil you over.”
“I’m in the shade.”
He sucks his lips. “Let me put it another way. I would like to oil you over….” His grin is wicked. I can’t miss his meaning.
“Don’t think we need this, do we?” he says, reaching around me to unfasten my bikini top.
Lying back, I stretch like a cat, arms over my head, displaying myself for him. Sunlight gilding his blond hair, bleached now almost to white against his deep summer tan, he grins, teeth very white against his skin. “That’s my Girl.”
He stoops, taking a nipple between his teeth, nibbling gently and sending little jolts of electricity skittering down through me. Breath catching, my hips judder, and he sweeps a hand over my stomach to slide under my bikini bottom.
“I’m not convinced we need these either.” he says, fingers tugging at the garment. Laughing, I slide them down, kicking them away.
“That’s more like it. Unrestricted access. Just what I was looking for.” He spots my cold drink, sitting in a frosty glass next to me.
