Buying the Virgin

Chapter 4: The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Four

My Master knows what I want. I do want to touch him. Never have I been so close to a male body. My

fingers barely grazing his skin, I follow the line of his shoulders, his chest, the small nubs of his nipples

with their aura of hairs, the tight outline of his abs and taut, flat stomach. I know how Columbus must

have felt, exploring new worlds.

I kiss his chest, lightly, wanting to press my face into him, to take in his wonderful scent, but nerves

take me again and I back off, embarrassed.

“Charlotte, it’s fine. If you want to do it, then do it.” His hand slips to the back of my head, not pressing,

but guiding me in.

Encouraged, I kiss again, tracing the line of his chest. My lips brush past a nipple and I take it into my

mouth, tasting, for the first time, the salty flavour of him, savouring the crinkled texture of the nipple.

Abruptly, he gasps, drawing a deep breath. “Fuck Charlotte! I hoped this was going to be good, but…”

He grabs me by the shoulders, pulling me upright, in the first ungentle move he has made. “Ye gods

girl! Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

Abashed, I reply, “I’m sorry Master. I didn’t mean…”

He laughs and grabs my chin with one hand. “That’s not what I meant. You definitely do not need to

apologise. I’m just realising that I’m lighting fires that may take some quenching.”

Then he turns serious. “Your turn now.” And he drops to his knees, looking up at me. “Support yourself

on me. Your hands on my head or shoulders, whatever you need.”

I don’t understand him at first, but then, as his mouth closes over me, through my panties, I get it. As

his warm breath bathes my thighs, and his tongue laps at me through the fabric, fire ignites between

my thighs and I cry out. My knees giving under me, my hands scrabble for something to hang on to.

“Gently Girl,” he says as I grab at his hair, trying to stabilize myself against him. “Open your legs a little.

Let me at you.”

I move my feet apart a bit, making a small gap between my thighs, watching as my Master slips in a

hand and starts to stroke me through the panties. Entirely unsure as to what exactly he is stroking,

nonetheless, I shudder and moan as my panties are abruptly wetter, flinging my head back, eyes

screwed shut.

“Master. I’m sorry, but I can’t stand up properly.”

Abruptly, he rises, scooping me up. “Time to get you horizontal, I think,” he says. And he drops me on

the bed, almost dumping me there.

I lie in a tumble of hair and sweat, panting uncontrollably, my Master towering above me, looking down,

his expression calculating.

“Are you still nervous Charlotte? Still scared?”

No, I am not scared, not nervous, not even slightly. I am afire. I want more… But I have no words and

shake my head dumbly.

Still, he gazes at me, assessing, for a long moment, then starts unbelting.

As his jeans fall to the floor, I see him, my first man, for the first time, naked. I have seen pictures of

course, in the magazines, on the internet, but have never appreciated before, how wonderful an

aroused man with an erection can look. The pictures and images I have seen before seemed tawdry

and cheap. When I sold myself, I believed that I was sacrificing myself for money, prostituting myself.

But…

He is magnificent.

His dark hair, an amber halo in the flickering candle-light; I could lose myself in the deep pool of his

eyes. His taut muscles outlined and gleaming in a sheen of perspiration. His erection, his penis,

upright, proud against his flat stomach.

I want him. But I don’t know…

I reach out to him, arms outstretched. Somehow, my hands are drawn to his cock.

His sees it but shakes his head. “Not yet. Not for your first time. I want you ready for me.” Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

Disappointed, I flop back onto the pillow, feeling a little petulant. He sees it, cocking an eyebrow.

“Madam. Do as you are told. I am in charge here. And…you will enjoy it the more.”

Sucking in my cheeks with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement, I obey my Master. He has

been right about everything so far. Why should I not want to follow his wishes and commands?

“Raise your arms over your head Charlotte. Clasp your hands together.”

Obediently, I do so, a little puzzled.

“I am not going to restrain you in any way today, Charlotte. It might frighten you. But, take that position.

Later, you will be tied and restrained. Today, simply hold the position. Imagine that I have hand-cuffed

you that way.”

Sitting on the bed, he holds my eye for a moment, then hooking fingers into the top of my panties,

slides them down and away from me, looking back up at my face as though gauging my reaction.

All I do is stare back, panting. He pauses, then slips his hands between my knees, encouraging them

apart. “Open up now. I’m going to tongue-fuck you.”

At his words, a surge of juices floods between my thighs. Opening my knees my Master sees how wet I

am, and “Mmmm”s with a pleased sound. Pulling a pillow from the bed he pushes it under my hips,

then pulls me into position. “Swing your legs up. Open your knees. Wider. That’s it. Head down. Hips

up. Let me see you.”

He pulls another pillow from under my head, again he shoves it under my hips, forcing my back to arch,

and my hips to jut upwards.

“Good girl. Lie back. Relax. Just let me take over now.” He makes a final adjustment to my position,

pulling my hips up a little more, widening the spread of my knees and thighs. I am completely exposed.

I have never been naked with a man before. Now I am not merely naked, but displayed…

My nerves are back, and my panting is not just arousal but now real fear. There is a sinking in my

stomach. What is he going to do? Nonetheless, I am running hot and liquid. I can feel my…private

parts…are hot and swollen.

“You’re beautiful Charlotte. I know that you don’t know how beautiful, but trust me, you are. And I’m

going to make you cum, and scream for more. I’m going to fuck you until you know that you are

beautiful.”

His eyes, lambent in lust and candlelight, meet mine, and my fears disperse. Then he leans forward

and licks me slowly, from cunt to clit. Just once.

And I scream.

Ecstatically, I convulse at this never-before-experienced sensation, of a warm, sensual tongue slipping

over my pussy and bud.

My arms have, disobediently, flailed at random, and my Master’s hands grab me by the wrists, pressing

my arms back to obedience, above my head into the pillows.

“Very good Charlotte,” he whispers into my ear. “But did I tell you to move?”

Almost disabled by the sheer sensation of what I have just experienced, I lie limply back against the

pillow. “No Master. Sorry Master. I’ll be good.”

“That’s better. Why don’t you hold onto the bars of the bed-head? Perhaps it will make it easier for you

to be obedient?”

I had not previously really looked at the bed-head. It consists of half a dozen upright metal bars within a

frame; very easy to hold on to, and also, as my over-sensitized mind now registers, very easy to be tied

to.

Moving both arms behind my head, I hold a bar with each hand, clasping tightly so as not to disobey

my Master.

There is a glint of approval in his eyes. “Good girl. Feel free to move your legs to make yourself

comfortable. If you swing them upwards, it will be easiest for me, but you can rest your feet on my back

or shoulders if you want to.”

He settles between my spread legs, lifting them again slightly at the knees. Suddenly I understand what

he means about swinging up my legs, and I adjust my position to present my pussy to him. “Is that

better, Master?”

“Perfect. Now, lie still while I taste you.” At his words, wet heat spreads through my core.

He does not immediately lick me, but instead sits back a little, looking at me, looking between my legs,

examining me. His fingers explore me, tracing the outline of my folds. He opens me, fingers parting my

lips, stroking back the hood of my clit. It is unsettling for me, to be examined so intimately, but

nonetheless, exciting. And at his lightest touch, I shudder and moan. I have never before understood

just how sensitive I am, or could be. My Master looks pleased with the noises I am making…