My Master blows air. âTrue enoughâ¦.â He rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling. âMichael and I met at the clubsâ¦â
There is a long silence. I donât try to fill it, waiting...
He continues. âMy wife had divorced me. I was still stinging from it. Michael has never been married, but heâs fairly cynical about, um⦠predatory women.â
I laugh. âYes, he feels quite strongly about Marcie and her ilkâ¦â
He laughs. âYouâre not wrong there. If ever I saw a man ready to runâ¦. Anyway, I wasâ¦.â He pauses.
ââ¦Is it going to bother you? Having this conversation? Youâre on safe ground. Virgins donât have a past⦠Well, not this sort of past anyway, but Iâ¦. and Michaelâ¦â
âItâs alright, Master. No, you wonât upset me. Weâve already established, havenât weâ¦. the past is the past?â
He turns back to me, giving me a long look, then kisses me: a slow kiss, his hand caressing my face.
Rolling onto his back againâ¦. âWe were both playing the game, independently. Lots of fun. Lots of sex.
No strings.â He huffs. âTom-cattingâ¦. Several times, I saw him from the viewing galleries, with a different woman every time. Other times, he saw me. We were attracted to similar types, although weâ¦. had different ideas as to what to do with themâ¦.â
He glances sideways. I just grin, knowing exactly what he is talking about. âAnyway, there was an evening⦠he was with a womanâ¦. heâd had no trouble getting her⦠I mean, you know what he looks like. They all want to be with himâ¦. but this one wanted a bit more⦠heat⦠than he was comfortable deliveringâ¦. she still wanted him to fuck her brains out, but she also wanted, a bit moreâ¦. Anyway, he invited me in, to join themâ¦.â
âDid she, by any chance, have a bright red ass by the time you finished?â
He blushes. He actually blushes.
Laughing, âI get it, Master. So, the two of you made a team, and worked together for your fun?â
âThatâs about the size of it.â
âAm I embarrassing you?â
âA little, yes, but I can hardly complain about your not telling me everything, and then notâ¦
reciprocatingâ¦â¦ Is there anything else you want to ask?â
âYes. How did you find out about the auction?â
He frowns. âUm, good question. How did I learn of it?â He rubs his head in thought.
âYou didnât go looking for it?â
âNo, not at all. Never occurred to me. After all, Iâm not exactly a teenagerâ¦. Ah yesâ¦. Got it⦠It was an e-mail that came in, caught my eye.â
âYou mean like one of those that offers toâ¦. extend youâ¦?â
He bursts out laughing. âYes. Just like one of those. Except that this one offered to provideâ¦.â He suddenly swallows his words.
âMaster?â
âIâm sorry, Charlotte. The enormity of what I did, is still coming home to me.â
âMaster, Itâs alright. Weâre fine nowâ¦. arenât we?â
âI keep thinking about that other girl in the auctionâ¦.â
âYou didnât behave like that, Master. You were wonderful to me. I had a great week. I came back.â
âCharlotte, let me ask you a question. How did you find out about the auction?â
âOh, thatâs easy Master. I did go looking for it. I needed the money. I was simply trying to find a way of selling the only asset I had to offer. Once I started searching the internet, it only took me a few hours to track down a way of doing it.â
He rolls over to face me again, frowning. âSo, when you went looking for a marketâ¦.â
â¦. There is the sound of a car engine, footsteps outside, the clunk of a door opening, and more footsteps, insideâ¦. keys clinking down onto on a surface.
âCharlotte? James?â
âUp here, Michael.â
The click of shoes on stepsâ¦. and Michael pushes open the bedroom door. He surveys the two of us, semi-enfolded in sheets, the wine bottle, the glasses. His gaze sweeps the room, takes in the belt on the floor, the marks on the wall.
His expression furious, striding over, he pulls the sheet away, looking me over. âShow me your ass.â
I roll over, displaying my pale and perfect derrièreâ¦. and he relaxes, looking abashed. âSorry, donât know what I was thinking.â
He scans the scene again. âAny more wine in that bottle?â
âThereâs another in the fridge.â
His expression bemused, he returns after a minute, with the bottle and another glass. Perching himself on the end of the bed, he does battle with the cork, which, uncooperatively, disintegrates into the bottleneck.
I giggle as he tries to fish out the bits, eventually pouring himself a glass, complete with cork âfloatersâ.
âCan I take it that⦠you two have made up?â
I nod. My Master smiles, languidly, a hand behind his head, stretching backwards onto the pillow.
ââ¦. and we can get back to a normal life again? Or at least what passes for normal for the three of us?â
I nod again.
He shakes his head, eyeballing me as he does so.
He knows something happenedâ¦.
I paste on my best âwide-eyed and innocentâ expression.
âAnd Iâm not fooled by the âLittle Girl Lostâ face either.â he says. âYouâll tell me sooner or later.â
âYes, I will. But not right nowâ¦â
He sips his wine. âSo, what now?â
âGet your pants off, Michael. This is a big bed, and your fiancée wants to be fuckedâ¦.â
His face unreadable, Michael tosses back the remainder of his glass, his gaze alternately locking between mine and that of my Master. Standing, he strips off his clothes, slips between the sheets next to me. Ignoring my Master, he turns my face to his. âAnd, how are you, now?â
I wrap my fingers into his golden hair, pulling him towards me. âIâm fine. Really.â
He leans in to kiss me, but I slide my face next to his, whispering close. âI love you.â
He pulls away from me, looks down at me, his depthless blue eyes, wide. âYouâve not⦠said it⦠like that beforeâ¦.â
I lift up, reaching to kiss him, trying to make him believeâ¦. Noâ¦. to give him belief. âFirst time for everythingâ¦â
As our lips touch, he shudders, head bowing. âOh, Charlotteâ¦.â And I know that finally, he believesâ¦.
We lie there, for a long momentâ¦
He pulls back, looking across me to my Master. âMight I ask if my fiancée has yet had the fucking she deserves?â
The smile is back in my Masterâs voice. âNot yet, no. The conversation took a philosophical turn. I was sure that, with your return, we could drag it back to more immediate concerns.â
Michael grins, his teeth improbably white against his beach tan. âNot going to disagree with you.
Spread âem, womanâ¦. Prepare to have your brains probed from your pussyâ¦â
Shrieking with laughter, as Michael rolls me onto my back, I open my legs. His hand questing south, he says âWeâd better do a good job with you. Youâll be away for a while, soon.â
âIâll be back. But, yes, you can do a good job anyway.â
My libido has returned, in force, and my cunt is demanding satisfaction.
Sunshine in his smile, Michael tickles at my pussy lips, making me squeal and wriggle. âKeep stillâ¦.â
he mutters. But there is laughter in his words.
My Master reaches over and around me, lifting my arms back onto the pillow, pinning them at the wrists. âJust holding you there, Madam, so your fiancé can do his work.â
Michaelâs fingers are working me, deftly finding their way through my folds, navigating to my clit. My pussy is responding, going into overdrive. Inside, I am heating, dissolving.
âNow, letâs get you nice and wet,â whispers Michael. âA man likes to feel heâs welcome.â Fingers insert themselves, curving into my front wall, rubbing at my sweet spot. âAh, yes, thatâs it. Nice and liquid.â