Chapter 48: The Girl Who Came Back - Chapter Four
Chapter 48: The Girl Who Came Back - Chapter Four
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 cums 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 up 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 to 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 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.”
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“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 by 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.