Buying the Virgin novel Chapter 12

A loudly ‘whispered’ voice drifts over the room. “She’s soaked. Look!” Followed by several “Shhhh”s.

The red silk panties must be showing every mark and hint of moisture. I picture myself, blind behind the silk binding my eyes, spread for inspection to my audience, bare-breasted, sweat trickling between my flushed breasts, and my wetness showing dark against the scarlet silk of my knickers. When the panties go, I will have only my stockings and the necklace.

Breathing harder all the time, my excitement mounting, I feel my pulse beating hard, its tempo against the leather restraints of the cuffs.

Something in the air movements around me tells me that the body close to me is standing back a little - displaying me. There is no sense of close-by, physical, heat, no scent of after-shave or male sweat.

Nonetheless, fingers are rubbing at my crotch, over the panties, pressing into my curls beneath and exploring down and in. It is exhilarating, electrifying, and I moan loudly, my hips leaning into the probing fingers.

The fingers slide inside the panties, between my hot and sensitive folds, when a voice again calls, “Time.”

I cannot help myself, and I groan with disappointment as the fingers withdraw and footsteps retreat from me. My hips are beginning to buck and tremble of their own accord, warm juices dribbling down inside my thighs.

The game resumes: again the smack of cards on a surface; the rattle of counters.

“Deal.”

Slap.

“Deal.”

Slap

“Deal.”

Slap. “Damn.”

“Deal.”

Slap.

“Deal.”

“Twenty-one!”

I quiver at the words. Will I be fucked this time? Will someone finger my clit? Suck my pussy? I am aching for relief, conscious of my rock-hard nipples and swollen cunt.

Again, the sound of chairs being pushed back and footsteps (How many? How many are there?), and then a sense of warm breath on my face.

I am kissed, hard, open-mouthed, tongue forcing in, then the mouth glides down over my breasts, briefly nipping soft teeth over a nipple, and I yelp. There is a soft chuckle of satisfaction, and the mouth continues down across my belly, to hover over my spread thighs. Fingers stroke the soft inner skin, upwards towards my sex, but not yet touching and I moan, trembling and quivering uncontrollably.

“Oh God, please. Please…” I say, wanting to beg for more, but not knowing what the ‘Rules’ are.

The fingers respond, and a single finger slips up past the sodden silk of my crotch and inwards, stroking forwards to my bud. A second finger enters from the other side of my panties, pushing back the hood, exposing my throbbing clit.

The panties are pushed to one side, and the mouth presses in, tonguing into me, swirling between my lips, and over my clit. Any trace of self-control vanishes and I scream, writhing in my bonds, as electric heat pulses up through my cunt, belly and thighs.

Fingers push up inside me, two, three, stretching me wide, thrusting, first gently, then harder as I open, expanding within.

A voice drifts over. “I think the lady is ready for a little more attention, don’t you think gentlemen? I would say she needs a good fucking to ease the strain. Probably several good fuckings. What do you say?”

There is a general murmur of agreement and voices speak out.

“Let’s get her down.”

“She’s itching for it.”

They’re right. I want to be filled. I want my brains fucked out. I want to suck cock and swallow cum. I want every man here to get his cock inside me somewhere, and shoot his load, in my cunt, my mouth, over my face or my tits. I want them singly and together.

Oh God! What am I doing?