by Simone Leigh
“Something wrong, Master?”
“Not at all. I was just…. wondering… about Richard Haswell’s tastes…”
I look around. At first glance, it is a perfectly normal, although very grand, bedroom. Then I look at it again, through my Master’s eyes, taking in a few details.
The bed is a four poster, solidly built in timber. Several brass rings support heavy curtains on the frame, but they do look very secure. Those rings would easily support the weight of, say, a human body.
There is a basket weave chair, supported from a hook in the ceiling and overlooking the amazing view. Again, nothing in itself, but I follow the line of my Master’s speculations.
“You think this is a… playroom… disguised as a bedroom, Master?”
He sucks in his cheeks. “Let’s say that I think it would be very easy to adapt it for other uses than sleeping…” He eyebrow flashes me, smiling.
I can’t disagree with him and find my pussy abruptly warming over.
Both Michael and my Master look at me, grinning……
Oh, damn.
I could stamp my foot.
“How do you both know?” I ask in exasperation.
Michael leans into me, his voice low “Oh, Charlotte. Sorry, but when you feel horny, you are completely transparent.”
“What do you think of that pool?” asks my Master. “It’s pretty private here. No-one’s going to disturb us….”
The three of us…. in the water….
My pussy floods.
“Oooh… you two...”
“Do you want to Fuck?” asks Michael, moving in close.
“Or do you want to Make Love?” asks my Master
“I want to have holiday fun.” I say, with all the dignity I can muster. “And I want to have it with my two Lovers, preferably with them not behaving as though my brain is a notice board.”
They exchange glances. I recognise that look. It’s that weird telepathy thing they have going on, when they decide between themselves how they are going to fuck me.
How do they do it?
It’s not the first time I have asked myself this….
Abruptly, I am picked up, my Master under one arm, Michael under the other, and carried bodily down the stairs. Kicking and struggling, shrieking with laughter, I am carried outside, stripped of my bathrobe and dumped in the pool.
Michael shrugs off the robe he was wearing and jumps in after me. My Master simply undresses by the side of the pool and dives in, cutting a clean line through the water with his long frame.
Michael grabs me from behind, hauling me to the edge where he hooks an arm around the side bar, and the other under my arms, effectively anchoring me.
“Lean back against me.” whispers Michael. “Let yourself float.”
My head resting back against Michael’s warm chest, I allow my legs to drift on the surface. It feels odd, resting against him like this, and for a moment, I don’t understand why. Then, I realise that, floating in the warm water like this, close as we are, I can’t smell him, his wonderful scent washed away.
My Master swims up close, opening my legs.
It occurs to me to wonder how the two of them will manage with the cooling effect of the water and the um…. shrinkage…. problem…
Of course, there’s more than one way to skin a cat….
I can’t do much. Semi-floating against Michael, I have no purchase on anything to be able to move. Then I realise that the pool is not so deep here. Michael is sitting on a step and my Master can stand up out of the water. And I float between them.
My Master kneels between my legs, nudging himself under my knees so that my legs rest over his shoulders. I well know that this is one of his favourite positions, and now the weight of my legs is largely removed, making it more comfortable for him.
He kneels upright, both hands palms down, on the flat of my stomach, caressing and massaging me. The sun is bright and hot, the air warm, and the water almost at body temperature.
My Master looks at me, his eyes soft. “Later,” he says, “I’m going to have you strung up from that bed, so your feet barely touch the floor, and fuck you senseless while you hang there, but for now, you can have this….”
Parting my pussy lips with his fingers, he dips his face between my thighs, his warm tongue contrasting against the coolth of the lapping water. In one long slow stroke, he licks me from pussy to clit.
And fire bursts through me…
I writhe and moan. Michael’s grip on me increases, and he whispers close to my ear, “Next time, that will be me.” And then he settles to nibbling at my ear. With the arm he has supporting me, he reaches to a nipple, tweaking and squeezing. Each time he flicks, a sharp Zing! of pleasure goes frolicking down to my cunt, making my hips twitch.
“Stay still, Woman!” says my Master. “How am supposed to drink pussy cocktail with you thrashing about like that?”
“Sorry, Master.”
I giggle, but my hips are jerking and jumping all out of my own control. The warmth of my Master’s breath, the heat of his mouth on me, contrast starkly with the cool water lapping at my entrance, sending alternating waves of temperature washing against my liquid core. Feeling chilled and fired alternately, the contrasting sensations are playing havoc with my pulsating pussy. I know that my pussy juices are flowing freely, and yet, I am cool over my pussy lips and clit. My nipples, on the other hand, are like little rocks.
And Michael is, all the time, and continuously, whispering in my ear. “When he has you hanging from that bed, while he mouths you, and fucks you from the front, I’m going to have you from the back. It’ll work. I can just see it. Him with his tongue up your cunt, while I have my cock up your ass. We’ll fuck you between us, ‘til you don’t know if you’re cumming or going….”
My hips buck, and my Master looks up from his position, face cleaning out my pussy, to see what triggered it. Seeing Michael, murmuring into my ear, he smiles.
I swear my pussy can feel him smile… his mouth widening over me, teeth nibbling at my bud as I swell and liquefy.…
Michael continues his verbal assault on my libido, murmuring close by my face. “And when he’s done with you there, you’re going to be on your hands and knees for me, and I’m not sure yet which part of you is getting my cock….”
It is too much. My pussy clenches, spasming into an orgasm which ripples up through me. My Master plunges his tongue deeply inside me, licking into my pulsating muscles, sending them into convulsions. Michael supports me still as I, moaning with each wave that pulses through me, strain back against him, pinching my nipple to the same pulse-beat rhythm as my climax.
Barely has it faded, when my Master stands, plunging his erection into me. Wrapping my legs around his hips, I draw him into me, and he thrusts deep into my still quivering core. In the heat of my body, he grows harder. I feel him swell and stiffen as he pounds into me, before, with a shudder, he cums, grinding into me, hips pressed hard against me.
Moving like trained dancers, he and Michael change places, Michael throwing me forward into my Master’s arms, who twists me around, presenting me for Michael to fuck.
And now, Michael spears me, again his shaft hardening in my heated passage. As I look up at him, his golden hair sunshine bright, his deep blue eyes intense, he gazes down, winking at me as he fucks me hard.
Gasping, he comes too. Eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted, he pumps his load into me before, with a gasp, he pulls out of me and sinks down into the water.
“What a way to holiday!” he laughs. “Ah God, that was good.”
__________________________________
This wonderful place has a timeless quality. One day following the next, full of blue skies, the sound of the sea and a feeling that this Summer will last forever.
Long walks by the water, both separately and together, a chance to catch on books I have wanted to read, and the time to simply be with my two Lovers.
How perfect can life be?
__________________________________
My skin has had enough sun, too much really; it’s time to cover up. Bikini clad, I wander into the bedroom, looking for my robe.
Michael is there, staring out to sea through the enormous picture window.
“It’s a stunning view, isn’t it?”
He turns. “It is, yes.”
He looks sad, upset. “Michael. Are you alright?”
He shrugs. “Just thinking.”
“Can I help? Is there something I can do?”
“No, I don’t think there is, Charlotte. It’s not your fault.”
My fault?
“Michael, Have I done something to upset you?”
He shakes his head, looking down, not speaking. Not looking at me.
“Michael, what is it? What have I done? Tell me what it is that you want from me.”
“Do you love me, Charlotte?”
“Of course, I do. Surely you know that now?”
“The way you love James?”
He is looking increasingly upset. And it is rubbing off.
“I do love you. Please believe me. I do. You were always amazing for me. Right from the very first day we met. You were so kind and so gentle. I’ve never forgotten how it was that week.”
“Yes, kind and gentle. The day we first met Charlotte, James had bought you the day before, taken your virginity. Right then, you needed ‘kind and gentle’, but you have come a long way since then, and ‘kind and gentle’ isn’t what presses your buttons is it? Not all of them anyway.”
“I don’t understand you, Michael. What are you asking of me? What is it that you want?”
“I want…. I want… just sometimes, to see you react to me, the way you react to him. I want to see that look on your face when it’s me you’re looking at.”
“But…. you don’t like doing to me… those kinds of things. You’ve said it yourself. You couldn’t bear to do it. When we first arrived, you were so angry when you saw the weals left on me. You don’t want to do that, and sorry, but you’re right, it does arouse me. It turns me on in a very specific way.”
He turns away again, staring through the window, out to sea. “You’re right of course,” he says. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it, to cause you pain, even though it seems to pleasure you.”
He chuckles.
“What’s funny?”
“Sorry, I still can’t get over the look on Steve and Marcie’s face that night, when you punched him.”
“As you said yourself, he didn’t want to take ‘No’ for an answer.”
“You certainly know how to swing a punch. When he went down like that, I wondered if he’d get back up again.”
And now Michael is smiling. He turns back to face me.
“Hit me.”
?
“Hit you? Why would I hit you?”
“Never mind. Just try. I saw you swing a punch like an expert. Now, try to hit me.”
“But I don’t want to hit you. Why would I want to hurt you?”
His expression changes, becoming intense, deep. “Don’t worry. You won’t. Go on, try to hit me.”
What’s he doing? What does he want?
I tap him with my knuckles, lightly, in his chest.
“No, try properly.” he says. “Like you did to Steve.”
Half-heartedly, I swing at him, not putting real power into it. Why would I want to hurt my Golden Lover? Without effort, he catches my arm by the wrist, before it is anywhere close to him.
“No. Really try to hit me. Try properly.” He leans in close. “Fight me.”
*penny drops*
I jab at him, hard, aiming for his face. He dodges, swinging head and shoulders to one side, and I try again. This time he again catches hold of my wrist and I try with the other arm to hit him. Now he has me both wrists.
“Fight me.” he hisses, pushing me towards the bed.
I struggle and squirm, but strong and fit as I am, I am no match for Michael. He is broadly built and muscular; far more powerful than I. Digging in my heels, making him work all the way, nonetheless, he gradually drags me towards the bed.
I change tack, swinging my weight the other way, pulling him off balance. I hook a foot around his ankle, and he falls, taking me with him and we thump down together on the deep carpet. My breath knocked out of me for a moment, I gasp and heave, as does Michael, then I scrabble to get away. He grabs me by an ankle, pulling me back, rolling on top of me, pinning me down with his body.
Panting, I gaze up at him. His pupils are wide as he looks down at me, trapped beneath him. He eyes me, my hair tousled, a flush of arousal running up over my stomach and breasts. Nodding he says. “Now, that’s the look.”
I struggle, but holding my wrists in one hand, he pushes my arms over my head, reaching around with the other to untie my bikini top.
With a heave, I catch him unexpectedly and almost throw him off me, but again, he catches me, this time by my long hair, looping it around his hand for a firm grip, then climbing atop me again.
He pulls my head around to face him, eyeing me calculatingly for a moment. “Yes, that’s it.” Then, reaching down with his spare hand, undoes his belt, sliding it out from the loops of his jeans. Grabbing first my left wrist, then the right, he loops the belt around, pulling it tight, binding me. I see him glancing around, settling on the pipework to a radiator, fixed to a wall. Looping the belt around that too, he has my hands fixed.
I am panting wildly, my chest heaving. Perspiring and hot, my pussy is afire.
Michael reaches around me again, untying my bikini top. But, my arms tied, the shoulder straps won’t come free. He simply takes each in his hands, snapping it apart in strong fingers.
I protest. “Michael… my clothes…”
“Fuck it. I’ll buy you another. It’s worth it to see that expression on your face…” He reaches down, and fingers looped through my bikini bottom, again literally rips it apart and pulls it off me, leaving me naked and bound.
This is a side of him I’ve not seen before….
He wants me to fight him?
I lock my ankles together. He hasn’t won yet.
Michael stands, towering over me. Methodically, he strips off his shirt and jeans. His erection is huge. He is seriously turned on.
Then he notices where I have locked my ankles together, my thighs tightly clamped closed. “Really?” he comments, then vanishes off, somewhere out of my sight.
He returns, seconds later, with …
There is a buzz.
Oh, God….
Michael takes his vibrating egg, fiddling with it for a second. The buzz gets louder. “Low power only for now.” he says. Then he pushes it between my thighs, squeezing it over my sweat slickened skin, in and down…. and in….
No amount of tightening or pressure from me will stop this. The smooth, slippery object simply glides past my skin. He inserts it inside me, pushing it deeply in, until my whole pussy and core are humming in resonance with it, setting me a-tremble.
Oh, God….
I’ll leave you to get used to that for a minute. Don’t go away.”
He returns, this time with rope. “You didn’t think I came here without everything we might need?”
The rope is the kind of soft silken stuff that works well on skin, binding without digging in, but the length of it…
What is he going to do?
He glances around the room, then I see him measuring with his eye the space between the wall I am tied to, and the foot of the bed.
He grabs my locked ankles. “I could just prise you open you know,” he says. “force my cock inside you. But I’ll have more fun this way.”
The vibe inside me is in fact, making it very difficult for me to keep my legs together. My pelvis is shuddering and shaking, my pussy liquefying.
He seizes me by my locked ankles, pulling me straight, squaring me up to the foot of the bed. Looping one end of the rope around an ankle, he tugs at it, to slide it between my feet
. Then he stretches out the rope, coiling it around the upright on one side of the four-poster, and then the other side, before stretching it back, tensioning the rope a little, and tying the end to my other ankle.
“You see,” he says, conversationally, “I can do this now.” And he pulls at the rope. As it pulls, my ankles are firmly and irresistibly prised apart, my legs opened.
He pulls on the rope until my ankles are about a foot apart. He surveys me. “You know, I think we can do better than that.”
He unties one ankle, all the while holding a tight grip on my leg, and then reties me at the knee. He repeats this on my other leg.
Then he tightens the rope again. Now I am opened at the knee. Flat on my back, arms tied back beyond my head, I am opened and displayed, my pussy in full view, opened, melting.
And all the while, the egg is purring away inside me.
I am volcanically aroused. My steaming cunt sends heat washing over my skin; my breasts, my face.
Michael sits down beside me on the floor, looking into my face. “Yeah…. that’s the look…” With one finger, he twiddles at my clit, making me jerk and buck. “You look amazing, but you know, I’m going to see how hard I can make you scream, without actually leaving stripes on you. There’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
?
?
“Don’t go away.”
He returns with a bag. Reaching inside, he pulls out a variety of objects, showing each one to me in turn, before laying it, neatly, on the floor. Several vibes in different sizes and shapes; massagers, feathers, vibes, clamps….
Clamps?
Where the hell has he got this lot from? I’ve never seen them before…
“You’ve got to be careful with the human body you know.” he says. “The senses can be deceptive. Too much stimulation in any one area and the sensitivity dies away. You have to start gently and work upwards, to keep up the tension….”
He lets that sink in. “I’m a masseur, among other things. You know that. So, I know quite a lot about anatomy, physiology…. and I love that expression you’ve got right now. You have no idea what I’m going to do to you, have you?”