Buying the Virgin novel Chapter 52

I echo his sigh, arching a little as he teases inside my folds. I am already wet for him. “Ah, that’s good, Charlotte. That’s good.”

“I want to kiss you while you touch me…”

His mouth on mine, Michael strokes lazy circles through my sex. His fingers glide through me, spiralling into my pussy then out again to nudge at my bud. Electricity dances through me, and I whimper into the warmth of his mouth. My fingers entwined in his hair, breathing in the scent of him, all I want is to have him inside me.

His cock hardening against my thigh, I reach to stroke it, to caress the velvety skin between thumb and forefinger, to ready him for me, as he is readying me for him.

Michael trembles, his breath growing ragged, his shaft beginning to produce a warm flow. Swinging up, atop him, I straddle my Golden Lover, his beautiful cock hard between the warmth of my thighs. I don’t want him to enter me just yet.

In the dark of this moonless night, with only the stars, his face is a pattern of light and shade below me, just a glint of reflection from his eyes as he gazes up at me. His hands holding me at the hips, I slide over him, my slippery folds over his hardness, before, guiding a little with one hand, I ease him into my entrance, but still, I don’t take him inside me. Instead, pushing against him, rocking my hips, I tease at his cock-head, pressing it against my inner muscles and easing away again, promising always to take him inside, then back off.

He groans, “Oh, God, Charlotte… Let me in. It’s sending me nuts…”

I chuckle, but enjoying myself, continue my teasing. The control I have, of having my Lover under me, of choosing when and how I will allow myself to be penetrated….

I gasp. Michael, gripping my hips hard, holding me still, drives upwards, spearing me in one smooth movement.

I yell and laugh at the same time. It feels so good. My slick pussy, stretched open by the thick shaft inside me, flows and pulses as our bodies merge.

Even in the darkness, I see the whiteness of his grin. “Enough teasing, Madam.” And he flips me over, onto my back. “Now we’ll see who has control…”

And he thrusts, hard, and again.

“Scream for me, Charlotte. I want to hear you…”

It takes no effort. Michael is pummelling me inside, and it feels…. just amazing.

Shrieking and laughing, I swing up my legs, wrapping them around him, allowing him to penetrate me even more deeply.

“Ah, that’s it…. you’re going to walk bow-legged tomorrow…”

He’s probably not wrong. I move to meet him, colliding my body with his as he rams home into me. My heavy breasts swinging, his balls bang against me, as we fuck our way to climax.

But this isn’t fucking. This is lovemaking…

Michael changes tempo, pacing himself I think, and I match him. Now, I feel the difference as he works for my pleasure, rather than his own. With each thrust, he withdraws completely, before sliding in slowly, only to withdraw once more; stretching me open and re-stretching me, as his bulging cock penetrates me.

Resting on one elbow above me, he slips his spare hand between us…. He chuckles. “It’s a bit of a tight fit. I can’t move my fingers. Do you want to ease your death grip on my hips?”

I relax my legs a bit, giving him more room to move, and he slips his hand into my clit. Still repeatedly slow-penetrating me, he winds his finger around my nub.

The stars I see, are behind my eyelids now. Moaning as he works my stiff bud, my hips a-quiver, the warming constriction of orgasm pools in my pussy. Breathy and panting, my heated sex throbbing to Michael’s rhythm, I hold him tightly to me. My hands clasped around his shoulders, my face buried in his neck, gathering him to me, I moan my rise to climax before, as my pussy spasms and clutches, I wail my rapture into the silent night.

Still, he works me, gently whirling my clit, gradually filling and refilling me. It is a dreamlike, slow-motion experience, and as I descend from my climax, the only sounds are our heavy breathing and the susurration of gently lapping water.

“Ah, that was wonderful,” I murmur. But now Michael is thrusting harder, more vigorously. Again, I tighten my thighs around his waist, moving to match his thrusts. I nibble at his lobes, run my fingers across his back and down his spine, as my Golden Lover builds to his own climax.

With a jar to his breathing, he cums. Deeply inside me, he shudders into my core. His groans are quiet but intense, and at the last, he rests, his face on my breasts, panting heavily, one arm curved up to stroke my face.

For long minutes we lie there together, before rolling off me, he lies back looking up again at the incredible sky.

He doesn’t speak but just lies there.

He looks sad.

Why should he be sad?