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Buying the Virgin

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 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.copy right hot novel pub

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