Buying the Virgin

Chapter 18: The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Eighteen

Slowly Michael 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 Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

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 pistons into me.

I am hovering on the edge of orgasm, dancing over the precipice and not quite ready to fall. Michael,

still watching me, winks, and reaches for something. Before I have time to register what it is, there is a

buzzing and he slips a vibe between the two of us and then down between my legs.

He is no longer grinding me, but his shaft still fills my sopping cunt. And, as I am filled at the front and

being pumped to the rear, Michael touches my clit with the vibe.

Searing pleasure blasts through my body, taking me with it. Blind to everything except the sheer

intensity of the sensations flowing through me, I am helpless to do anything but convulse and writhe.

My Master’s arms lock around me, pinning mine, holding me while Michael torments-pleasures my

swollen and now explosive clit.

I scream. And cum.

My loss of control is total. Blind to everything except the pulsating volcano of my core, my spasming

belly and thighs, my clenching cunt and palpitating clit, I thrash uselessly against my Master’s grasp.

He holds me firmly, clasped in his arms, speared by his shaft.

On it goes, and on, until it is finally too much, and I finally find the words.

“Stop Michael. Stop. For God’s sake, stop.”

Michael takes away the vibe, smiling shyly, then kisses my lips. He holds me by the shoulders, stroking

my hair. He is still inside me. How? I have no idea. But he is still there, and he resumes his slow pulse-

beat thrusting, now working for his own pleasure.

My pussy, twitching with afterburn, protests a little at this continued penetration, but he is careful,

gentle, as he works to his own climax.

Behind me, my Master’s beat has changed. There is an urgency now to his thrusting, a sense of

imminence. His breathing is fast and laboured. And with his chest pressed against my back, his

heartbeat echoes through me, beating harder, louder. With a shock, I realise that I am not just feeling

his heartbeat, but actually hearing it. Michael hears it too, and through his gentle thrusting, looks

around me, eyes wide.

Shuddering hard against me, my Master’s head presses against my shoulder. He groans and presses

his cock deep into me. The pulsations of his release ripple through my own muscles, a tension as much

mine, as his.

With a gasp, he withdraws, sliding out of me and releasing his death grip on my body.

Michael, now with sole possession of me, rolls me over to lie on my back, settling into the comfort of

my open thighs.

Still slow and steady, in, out, in, out, he strokes my face and kisses my lips. “I’ll miss you,” he murmurs,

then he cums.

His climax seems so mild and gentle, compared to the glory he gave me. I try to draw it out for him,

clenching my pussy muscles around his shaft as he quivers and shoots into me.

His groans turn to laughter as he says, “Stop that Charlotte. Stop. You can’t keep doing that.”

My Master, standing now to one side looks baffled. “What’s she doing?”

Michael pulls himself away, rolling to one side of me. “Your protégé has figured out that she can use

certain of her muscles, rather than just enjoy the ride.” He grins at me to take away any sting from his

words.

“Shall we celebrate?” asks my Master. “A last meal, in honour of a wonderful week, and an amazing

girl.”

I don’t know quite what to say, and mumble something into my chest.

Michael is more decisive. “Yes, I think so. Charlotte, where are we going to go? Name your choice of

restaurant.”

We dine Italian. Pasta, salad, garlic bread and a deep red wine.

“You never said earlier in the week that you like Italian food so much, Charlotte,” complains my Master.

“If you had spoken up, we would have had it before.”

“Errr…garlic? Would that have been a good idea?

Both men laugh. “You have a point. But now, let me raise a glass. To Charlotte.”

“To Charlotte.” And Michael raises his glass also.

I gulp my wine, not quite having the nerve to toast myself.

*****

Driving me to the train station the following morning, my Master is pensive. “I do hope I made the week

good for you Charlotte?”

“Oh yes, you did. I was so dreading it, and you, well, you made it marvellous.”

A smile lights his face. “I’m glad of that. I wouldn’t have pushed you farther than I thought you could go

you know, no matter how much I’d paid for the privilege. But you amazed me with just what you did do,

or more to the point, wanted to do, and enjoyed.”

“It was amazing Master. If I had to do it again, I would, but I can’t. I’m all out of virginities to sell.”

He bursts out laughing. “Very true! Listen, Charlotte, you’ve earned plenty of money from your…

adventures, but college life can be expensive. You know, materials, textbooks, field trips, decent digs to

live in… It adds up, and in unexpected ways sometimes. What I’m getting at is, I’m here. If you need

anything, anything at all, get in contact and…” My Master lays a hand on my knee. “Charlotte, this is a

no strings offer..."