CHARLOTTE
It is very late at night, almost early in the morning. The light is eerie, just the glow of dials and displays on medical equipment. The only noise is the hum of air-con.
Michael spooned behind me, he and I sharing the single bed beside my Master, as, unable to sleep myself, I watch him sleep.
I had thought Michael was sleeping too, but he moves, lifting my hair away with one hand, to kiss the nape of my neck. The other hand sweeps the curve of my waist and hip.
“How are you feeling now?” he murmurs.
I turn to face him. “Much better, thanks. I’m…. I’m sorry I’ve been so awful the last few days. I didn’t know what to do, how to cope.”
He kisses me again, softly on the lips. “Sorry? For being upset when the man you love, is hovering between life and death? I don’t think so.”
“And what about the other man I love?”
He smiles, moving to wrap his arms around me. “You want to make love?”
“Mmm…. Yes.”
Hands around my shoulders and waist, he pulls me in close, his mouth open over mine. My Golden Angel is feeling lusty, and already his erection presses against my belly.
It’s been too long. With all the panic and the fear and the upset of the last few weeks, our lovemaking has been interrupted. But now, with my Master, if not well, at least on the mend, my libido surges. Desire for my Golden Lover blooms warm; curling and winding up from my core. Trembling and sighing, I stroke his beautiful face.
In the dim half-light, he smiles. “Ahh…. that’s better. That’s my Charlotte again.”
He drops his face to the soft skin of my neck, nibbling and nuzzling. “You smell wonderful,” he says. “It’s good to see you smiling again.” His hand skims my waist, wanders up to a breast, which, stooping, he cups to his face. The nipple between his lips, his mouth is warm over my skin. And now, my breath catching, arousal flushes hot over me.
Arching my spine, flexing my body against his, I fling my head back, then looking sideways, see that my Master has woken, and is watching us calmly. A smile plays across his lips. In the half-lit room, his dark eyes are depthless pools.
“Master? Do you want….?”
“I don’t think I’m up to it right now.” he smiles. “But don’t let me stop you two. I’ll enjoy some vicarious love-making this time.”
Michael pulls himself up beside me. “Kneel up.” he murmurs. “Face him.”
Turning on the edge of the bed, Michael kneeling behind me, I face my Master, he watching as Michael runs his hands over me, over my body. His hands, flat-palmed, press against the slight curve of my belly, smoothing over my waist and hip, sliding up to cup and support my heavy breasts. One-handedly, he plays with a nipple, the other hand slipping down to the vee of my thighs.
My Master silently watches; Michael displaying me to him. As fingers work through my foxy curls, I part my thighs further, inviting the fingers more deeply in. Michael reaches inwardly, scissoring between my labia, opening me up. “I want you good and wet,” he says, loudly enough to be heard, and my Master smiles.
His eyes follow the movement as my clit is fingered awake, his eyes crinkling at my small gasps, electricity jabbing through to my sex. I’m sensitising now, growing moist and slippery, and my bud is stiffening, small and hard under Michael’s expert manipulation.
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