Buying The Virgin Part 1-3 novel Chapter 18

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.

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.