CHAPTER 62: THE GIRL WHO CAME BACK - CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

… 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 I can almost 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 upcurved 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

inexorably 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 ramrodding me, Michael grips me by the hair again, kneeling me upright against himself, arching

me backwards, 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 backwards, 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 Content © 2024.

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 Cum.

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…”