by Simone Leigh
“You want us to get her out of there?” asks Michael.
The doctor hesitates, then shrugs. “Strictly, I should say yes, but on the other hand, if he can feel or hear anything, I don’t know of a better way to remind a man what he has to live for.”
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Charlotte
I’m trying to sleep, but can’t. Michael has his arms around me, and drifts between sleeping and waking. From his breathing, I’d say he’s sleeping right now.
Blurry-eyed, my head aching from too much crying, I watch my Master. He’s close, all but next to me after Michael pushed the two single beds together.
His eyes blink open.
He’s not focussed, his stare glazed, not fixing on anything.
But he’s waking.
I push backwards to my sleeping lover. “Michael! Michael!”
Michael’s voice is confused, groggy. “What? Charlotte? What was that?”
“He opened his eyes. He’s waking up.”
But as I look back, and Michael sits up to see, my Master’s eyes are closed again.
It doesn’t matter. He’s waking up…. He’s getting better.
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I sit in the armchair by my Master’s side, reading to him.
“…. The way to live a long time—oh, a thousand years or more—is something between the way a child does it and the way a mature man does it. Give the future enough thought to be ready for it—but don’t worry about it. Live each day as if you were to die next sunrise. Then face each sunrise as a fresh creation and live for it, joyously. And never think about the past. No regrets, ever….”
His eyelids blink open, dark eyes staring aimlessly at the ceiling. They close again, but a moment later, flick back.
I lean forward in my seat. “Master?” I whisper. “Master? Can you hear me?”
He blinks again, then his eyes slide sideways towards me. He tries to speak, and fails, mouth and lips dry. Quickly I dip fingers in the water jug, pat his lips damp. I pour a little in a glass, and supporting his head, holding the glass carefully, I help him sip a little, wet his mouth. “Master? Is that better?”
This time his eyes meet mine. “Charlotte?” His voice is so weak, but he’s speaking. He’s with me again.
I take his hand in mine. “Yes, it’s me. I’m here, Master.”
He smiles, still struggling to speak. “That’s good, Charlotte. That’s good.”
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“How are you feeling?” asks Michael.
My Master, lying flat on his back, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, “Err.… terrible, actually. I’ve never felt so knocked out.”
“Mmm…. That’s a good sign actually.”
My Master looks up at him doubtfully. “It is?”
“Ah-ha. It means you’re alive.”
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“How long have I been here? I feel dreadful.”
“Four days.” says Michael. “Do you remember what happened?”
“Um…. no, not really. I was blasting Charlotte for behaving like a maniac.” He frowns at me, but his lips are puckering to a smile. “Then…. er…. it’s a bit hazy after that.…”
“Corby was there, with a gun, aimed at Charlotte. I tried to get to him, to stop him from firing, but I couldn’t move fast enough. I only knocked his aim off. You grabbed Charlotte, and shielded her with your body; took the shot instead.”
My Master blinks. “I did?”
“You did. It was either the bravest, or the most stupid thing I’ve ever seen. You dropped like a stone, and I think you were unconscious before you hit the ground. The bullet severed your femoral artery. You lost a lot of blood. You’re very lucky to still be here, to be able to complain about how you feel.”
My Master swallows, digesting this. “But Charlotte wasn’t hit?” His eyes swing back to me.
“No Master. It didn’t touch me. I’m fine. And even if you don’t remember doing it, thank you. I’d be dead if it weren’t for you; for the two of you.”
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A day later, pumped with painkillers, my Master is much more himself. He is still very weak, but is sitting up in bed, propped up with pillows. With me and Michael, Richard and Beth, sitting around him, he is happily talking, with the air one giving court.
While he and Richard discuss plans, Michael sitting, silently watching, taking everything in, it all feels so much more normal….
Whatever that means….
“So where do we work from now, as a base?” asks my Master. “With the old offices burned out. What has actually been lost?”
“Oh, it’s by no means a disaster.” says Richard. “All the information that mattered was stored on the cloud anyway. And, as you know, it was always the plan that we would move to the new headquarters as part of the City Project. I’ve simply brought forward that phase of the works. The offices are going up as we speak. We should be in there within three months.”
“And until then?”
“Until then, I’ve rented out one of the old warehouse blocks down by the docks. It’s not ideal, but it will do as a temporary fix….”
Beth has brought some more of Ross’ delicious food. Ye gods, but I’m hungry!
I polish off a dish of chicken and vegetables and, without asking, Michael shovels more onto my plate. I down that too, and, with an air of satisfaction, he pushes an apple into my hand.
“On the subject of temporary fixes….” continues Richard. “I was going to suggest, that since the renovations are not complete in your own home yet, and.…” he nods to Michael, “…. you could do with a free hand to get on with the work, why don’t the three of you move back into the beach house for a few weeks. It will be much easier for you to complete your renovation works that way, and your mountain home really isn’t a suitable place for a recuperating man right now.”
“Thanks, that’d be great.”
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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 sleeping.
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.
He alters his grip, one hand swinging around my waist, pulling me tight, the other coming in from behind me, to push into my slick pussy. “Play with your tits.” he murmurs. “Display yourself. Your Master wants to watch you show yourself.”
Michael finger-fucking me from behind, my breath judders as I dip into the water jug by the side of the bed, wetting the pads of my fingers to tweak my nipples hard. They crinkle to tight nubs, and I raise my arms skywards to lift my breasts, displaying them to best effect. My hair, long and loose, cascades to my waist, but Michael sweeps it back over my shoulders, clearing the view for my Master.
Fingers rubbing hard at my g-spot, a thumb working into my ass, I’m close to coming. I want to come. I want my Master to be able to watch me come. Flushed and sweating, I drop a hand to my clit, then use the other to stretch my lips apart, opening myself fully. Rubbing and working the tip of my bud, I find just the spot where….
My pussy tenses, coils and trembles. Streaming hot inside my thighs, my sex shudders and quivers as my climax builds. Watching me, mesmerised, my Master follows my every move until, suppressing my urge to scream, I come….
Shaking and bucking, I might fall, but Michael supports me as orgasm wracks me. “Shhh….” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Remember where we are. Try to keep the noise down.”
My climax waning; “Master, um…. are you hard?”
“Err, a little, but I don’t think I can….”
“I’ll do the work Master, if you want me to.”
“I’d like that….”
The hospital air is very warm, easily comfortably enough for me to pull back his sheets, at least for a few minutes. “You’ll tell me if I hurt you?”
“I don’t think you’ll hurt me, Charlotte.”
Michael sits beside us, stroking his own erection while he settles to watch me pleasure my Master. Occasionally he sweeps my hair away where it interferes with my movement, or to give himself or my Master a better view.
Gulping, I try not to look at the bandaging and bruising on the leg where the bullet smashed in. Instead, sitting beside him on the bed, I bend to kiss him, my lips brushing his; skin on skin, soft and warm. His breath is sweet, and a little minty, and as I deepen the kiss, his hand curves around into my hair.
Tracing the outline of his teeth with my tongue, one hand caressing his cheek, with the free hand I stroke from his temples and cheek to his ear, down to his shoulders, and the tender skin of the base of his neck. The fine dark hair of his chest ripples under my touch, and as I glide down his arm to meet his hand, our fingers mesh. Lifting his hand, I kiss the lace of fingers.
He sighs as I draw my hair over his chest and stomach, trailing it along the length of his body, teasing at his nerve endings as it sweeps south over his groin. His semi-erect shaft trembles as my copper tresses flow and spill over him, stroking his balls and the delicate inner skin of his thighs.
Slipping inwards a little, I run my fingers inside his thighs, then upwards and inwards over the crinkling tightness of his balls, cupping them into the palm of my hand, rolling them with my thumb. Eyes closing and breath deepening, his head drops back.
I don’t want to go any further down his legs, towards his injury. The bruising is too widespread; the wound too raw. Instead, I take the twitching tip of his penis between thumb and forefinger, rubbing gently, sliding back and forth, as the shaft swells and stiffens in my hand. Ringed around the shaft, I glide up and down his length with one hand, work the head with the other.
He is beginning to tremble, his breath to judder. His eyes open again to meet mine as I ‘aaahhhh’ warm breath over him. I love to arouse my Master, and my pussy liquefies and flows as he responds to my touch. I would love to take him inside me, but, so recently hurt, I don’t think he is ready for that.
Still holding his gaze, I drop to take his beautiful cock in my mouth, which now is hard and ready for me, firm and sensitive, a dewdrop on the head, which I tongue away. One hand still working the shaft, the other fondling his balls, massaging the root of his cock, with my lips, I pleasure the head. Circling with the tip of my tongue, I insert, ever so slightly into the slit, enjoying the salty-bitter pre-cum that seeps out. He quivers as I take the whole of the head in my mouth, giving him my heat, sucking gently as I swipe my tongue around the ridge.
But my Dark Angel is ill and exhausted. Sighing, he strokes my head as I love him with my mouth. Is he going to come? I don’t know. But I want him to know that I’m here for him. As I look up, he’s watching me, his eyes holding mine.
His breathing grows heavy and slow. “It’s wonderful Charlotte, but I’m sorry. I’m not ready yet.”
“That’s alright Master. You want me to stop?”
“Mmmm.… I know you and Michael want to make love. I’d like to watch you.”
Michael reaches across, pulling me to himself across our conjoined single beds, and underneath as he rolls atop me.
“Spread those thighs, Madam.” he laughs. “Your other lover wants to fuck you.”
On strong arms, he holds himself above me, as he presses between my legs. I’m warm, and wet, and ready for him. And my pussy pulses as I gaze up into my Golden Lover’s smile, and across to my Master, where, propped on an elbow, he watches us.
Michael is beyond aroused. Perhaps watching me pleasuring my Master has readied him for me. Rock hard, his cock, always large, is huge, stretching me open as he penetrates. And of course, we have not now made love for some time.
I gasp as he fills me, his thick shaft widening my passage with its girth, and he grins down as he squeezes inside me, his deep blue eyes brilliant with desire, intense with lust. “That feel good?”
“Oh God, yes….”
“How do you want it? Soft or hard?”
I chuckle. “It doesn’t come much harder…. but I’d like you to start soft, then work from there….”
He brushes lips over mine. “My pleasure…”
He pulls out of me, then pushes in once more. It’s tight enough that my pussy sucks at him, and I find myself, hands around his neck, pulling up close against him, swinging a leg around his hip, as I try to ride this colossal fucking.
He knows he’s testing me, and loving it. Mouth open over mine, he revolves his hips, working my g-spot, wringing helpless moans from me. He’s holding me tight, not letting me move. Michael doesn’t often ‘take charge’, but when he does, his sheer physical power is a turn-on. His well-muscled body is tremendously strong, and when he decides to pin me, as he is doing now, I simply can’t move. He can do whatever he wants, and he knows it.
“That’s enough baby-play.” he says. “Let’s take
it a bit harder.” He ups his tempo, repeatedly impaling me with his cock, still holding me so that I can’t even squirm, only puff wordlessly, as the breath is knocked from me with each thrust.
Oh…. God…….
My igniting pussy is about to combust, as with ever-increasing cadence and energy, my Golden Lover pistons into me. My gasping turns to wailing, and he claps a hand over my mouth. “You’re in a hospital, Charlotte. Let’s not upset the nurses.” But still he rams into me, ever harder.
And finally, he lets rip entirely, pounding relentlessly inside me with all his strength, wrenching strangled screams from me as my battered cunt goes into liquid meltdown. There is nothing subtle about this. It’s simply a good hard fuck and I, and my body, love it.
There’s no warning, no gentle spiral upwards. Orgasm strikes, rampaging through me.
Gagged by Michael’s palm, gripped immobile in his grasp, my body can only jerk and spasm as he steamrolls into me, my muffled shrieks, perhaps, contained within the room.
He’s watching me, as he always does when I come. And as my own seismic climax subsides, Michael stiffens and pauses, dropping his face down to my shoulder. Then hips bucking, he spurts into me. Once, twice, and a final juddering pulse before, relaxing, he releases his grip on me and rolls onto his back, breathing heavily. He gives me a quick smile and then lies back, gazing upwards.
I turn to my Master. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Charlotte. I’ll be back on form in a few days.”
Michael rolls to face him. “James….”
“I know. I know. It could be longer.”
“You were very badly injured, Master….”
He blinks. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be irritable. And…. that was good to see. The two of you.”
I kiss him. “I promised you that I would always come back to you, but this time, you had to come back to me.”
He strokes my cheek. “Always.”
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