*****
Michael
James stands, his back to the fire, gazing into space. Charlotte enters dressed, not exactly
provocatively but…
She’s touched up her make-up…
Bare feet…
The sweater she wears is warm enough for the weather, but low-cut, with a hint of cleavage. She
glances down to me on the couch, then to him. “Master, are you busy with anything right now?”
He smiles, a casual expression. “Not particularly, Charlotte. What’s on your mind?”
She moves closer to him, looking up into his face, then she drops her head, looking down. Her hair,
released from the usual ponytail hangs long and loose, swaying to her waist.
Lol!
Pretty transparent intentions…
My cock stirs…
How the fuck does she do that?
I set my book to one side. It wasn’t holding my attention anyway. Fun and frolics with my wife and my
friend sounds much more promising. Then I shift my position a little; easing the pressure as my pants
grow tight…
But James doesn’t react as I expect. “I’m a little tired, Charlotte.”
She moves close to him, laying her fingers on his chest, stroking downward over his shirt. She stops
short of his belt, but her hands linger. “If you’re tired, Master, I could do most of the work. You can just
lie back. I’ll…”
He lifts her hands away, kissing the fingers. “Later perhaps.”
Her postures changes. It’s subtle, but it’s there. What looked like submission turns to resignation.
“Alright, Master.”
James… not in the mood?
… Not in the mood for Charlotte?
And now I think about it…
When was the last time he started something?
Charlotte rarely initiates sex or love-making with James, although she does with me….
Trying to be a good sub…
Yeah… right…
… Normally she waits for his signal…
Her Dom’s signal…
…. And goes along with whatever he has in mind…
When did he last start something?
I rack my brain…
Days?
Weeks?
I’d not realised…
… but she has…
What’s going on?
?
Charlotte?
Surely he’s not falling out of love with her?
No…
She’s his world….
What then?
?
Aaahhh…
Fucking obvious….
His daughter…
Is he suffering from depression?
And trying to hide it?
A Dom who’s not in the mood to Dominate?
Time to step in…
I rise, striding across to stand behind her. Reaching around I hold her wrists tugging them, none too
gently, behind her back, then in a voice loud enough for James to hear. “Your Master expects you to be
on your knees, not crawling up near his face.”
Her breath catches. James’ eyes meet mine and his mouth twitches…
Pupils dilating…
That’s doing it…
One palm on her shoulder, I press. “Down, madam.” As she drops, James’ gaze follows her. “That’s
better,” I say, backing off a step or two, giving him room to move. He circuits her as, head bowed, she
submits.
“You should be naked, Charlotte,” I say, “before your Master.”
Head still bowed, she nods, her hair swinging, hands moving from the flat of her thighs to the hem of
her pullover. I beat her to it. Fisting one hand into her hair, I tug, raising her head, lifting her to kneel
upright. “Take it off then.”
She lifts from the hem, up and over her head. She’s not wearing a bra and her skirt I now realise, is a
wrap-around, held in place with a couple of buttons and no more. Slipping them open, she tugs filmy
fabric away leaving herself wearing only panties, cut high at the hip in the way that suits her so well,
white satin and lace.
One arm locking around hers, I lift her to her feet then reaching around, hook thumbs into the sides of
her panties, pulling them down. “Off.” As she slips them down, kicking them off I take her by the arms
again, locking them behind her and pull her backwards, deliberately unbalancing her. Then sitting on
the edge of the couch I tug until she collapses, close to naked, into my lap.
“Now…” I say, speaking close by her face, but still loud enough for James to hear, “… a good sub
doesn’t make it difficult for her Master to have what is his. So spread ’em.”
James watches this in silence, but his eyes are black as he stands over her, legs akimbo, looking
down, every inch the Dominant. And…
… thankfully…
… his pants are bulging…
Her lungs heave as she opens her legs, raising her knees a little, but now I grab her at the back of the
thighs, hooking an arm around each leg to spread her open. As I expose her, the scent of her arousal,
pungent and sharp-sweet swirls up. I can taste her in the air.
James tilts his chin, inhaling.
With slow, deliberate movements, he unknots his tie, then undoes the top button of his shirt. “Michael,
would you like me to restrain her?” He stands with the tie offered, taut, with a hand knotted into each
end.
Her body quivers against mine as I hold her close, her face now resting against mine, and my own
shaft, satisfyingly constrained by my jeans, sandwiched against her spine, protests its freedom.
“In a while perhaps. I’m rather comfortable like this.”
“As you wish.” He puts the tie to one side.
Usually, at this point, James would kneel in front of her and bury his face in her pussy. It’s what I’m
expecting him to do, but instead, he pulls up a footstool, sitting close by her, his own knees spread,
leaning forward. His eyes flick between her face and her displayed sex, and occasionally to me.
Almost casually he draws a fingertip along the tender crease where thigh meets vulva. A shudder runs
through her and I crane to see. James’ gaze flicks to mine for a moment then, “Don’t go away.”
He stands, briskly leaving the room, then just as briskly returning with a mirror which normally lives
hooked on the wall in the hallway. He sets it against the fireplace, gauging by eye, then adjusting its
position.
“Can you see now?”
“I can, yes. Thank you, James.” And now I watch the reflection as he re-seats himself on the footstool.
With Charlotte cradled-captured in my arms, I have a perfect view of her splayed pussy, a splash of
deep pink against marble skin and copper curls. James traces the delicate furrow of her inner thigh, his
head tilting as he does so. It’s the most delicate of touches, the very tip of a finger, but her body ripples
against mine and she mewls her response.
Watching the mirror, I tighten my grip on her as he repeats the movement, this time on the other side,
then follows through on the fine skin of her inner thigh, tracing a path from cleft to knee and back.
Charlotte’s cheek presses against mine as she levers back against my hold on her, whimpering.
James stands again, this time rummaging through a drawer to return with something… several
somethings… concealed in his hand, popping some into a pocket.
But he places one on a couch arm; a set of controls. Another he offers up, wordless as he displays it to
her; an egg. His voice is conversational. “How much power do you think, Michael?”
“I’d say, start it low and work upwards from there.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Her reflected eyes, so green, but with huge, dark pupils, are fixed on him as, one hand holding the egg,
he thumbs the controls with the other until quietly, it hums in his hand. Reaching forward, he traces it
over her skin, caressing her cheek with it, then her lips, the lightest of touches. Then like an artist with
his masterpiece, he strokes the egg over her pussy lips.
She jolts in my arms at the first touch, arching back, writhing against my hold. Waves pass through her
body, massaging my sandwiched cock, sending my blood-pressure through the roof and electricity
spiking to my balls.
James purses his lips, sliding the egg over her again, stroking through folds which grow more deeply
red with every moment. Then, his wrist twisting, he slips it into her pussy, pressing in, nudging it past
the inner-muscle and to her rising howls, pushing it home with a couple of fingers.
His voice mild, “Can you tilt her up a little more at the hip.” He reaches for his pocket again, this time
extracting a small vibe.
“My pleasure.” I shuffle under her, jerking her to a new position, now biting down on my self-control with
her weight more firmly over my erection.
“Thank you, Michael. That will do nicely.” James, in business-like fashion, swipes the vibe through her
pussy-lips, coating it to glistening slipperiness. Pressing it to her rose-pink rosette, he twists back and
forth as he penetrates. Charlotte’s mouth opens and her breath stutters in a complicated stammering
warble. You might think she was in pain, but we both know better.
And now, as she shivers and twitches and moans in my grasp, he leans in, the flat of his hands against
her thighs…
Feeling her response…?
… opens his mouth and Aaahhhs warm breath over her.
She tries to move but pinned by me at the knees and by James at the thighs, she can only spasm
uselessly until, as he lays the tip of his tongue over her clit, hips bucking, she actually pulls free of me.
Her spine bows as she jerks free of my grip and I scrabble to pin her again. There’s a kind of gurgle
from James which I think might be laughter…
… at least he’s smiling…
… as he presses hard down on her thighs, pushing her back into my grasp. His eyes ride up to mine
and then with a single long stroke, he takes his tongue through the full length of her folds. And then
again…
… and again…
She’s screaming and laughing, her body tensing and straining against mine. James breaks off for a
moment, fiddling with the controls, turning up the power on the egg then fastens his lips over her pussy.
She’s streaming, her honey wiping over his mouth and chin, rubbing over her thighs
Even through my clothes, she’s hot; her naked flesh pressed back against me; and she smells of sweat
and the musky scent of sex; a heady cocktail that blooms through the air making my blood pound and
my cock pulse.
Then the pause…
… the moment of stillness as she arches, drawing in breath…
James’ eyes roll up to her face, but her bud in his mouth, he suckles gently…
… and with a shriek, she ricochets into orgasm…
In the mirror I watch her; head flung back against mine, every muscle taut…
At the last moment, James dips inside her with fingers, flicking out the egg and replacing it with his own
tongue, sucking her dry as her hips heave and she rides her climax. As she goes limp, he breaks away,
nodding to me as he stands. Releasing her, I push her upright and to him and he grabs her by the
wrists, spinning her, then pushing her to kneel face-down to the couch in the space next to me.
Stripping away his belt with a just-audible gasp, James releases his cock; swollen, purple-veined and
rock-hard. Sweeping her hair to one side, his hand hard on the back of her neck, he crushes her face
into the cushions, then plunges into her like a fucking pile-driver.
Her weight off me, my congested erection is screaming for attention. I watch them; James shafting her
with everything he’s got, Charlotte heated scarlet, both gleaming with her honey as he enters and
withdraws, fathoming her full-length, ramming her inner walls until she shrieks with every stroke.
She’s already slick with perspiration. He’s reddening, sweat beading his forehead, trickling down the
skin, soaking into his hair. His chest rises and falls like bellows and the pulse on the side of his neck
drums a visible beat. He jerks, judders, and with a hoarse bark, his eyes squeeze closed and his head
drops as his hips grind spirals into her pelvis…
… “Christ…” he mutters, dropping forward to rest on a long arm over her. Then he swipes dripping hair
from his forehead, seizes her by a tangle of red locks and lifts her up and back by the scalp to drop her
face over my throbbing groin…
Perfect!
Couldn't have planned it better.
“Get him out and get your mouth around him.”
She scrabbles at my belt and zip, my cock springing out and to attention, already seeping.
“Lick him clean, then suck him off.” James settles, sitting on the carpet, one leg tucked under, one knee
up as he reaches for her from behind.
“Master, the vibe...”
“Shut up and get sucking.” His arm works as he finger-fucks her, his hand glistening in a mixture of her
juices and his own cum. Then by way of a change, fucks her at the back with the vibe.
My hands on her head, I regulate her speed and he matches his strokes up her pussy and her ass to
my rhythm. I’m ready to blow already. It takes seconds. With a growl I climax and as I do so, James
snatches at her hair and pulls her free, still hand-fucking her pussy. I shoot like a fucking porn star,
showering her face in my cum, and at the same moment, she shrieks and goes into orgasm again.
She’s still Coming as I relax back to see James, his lips curving, one arm still powering behind her.
“Stop. Red, Master. Red!”
He releases her, whips out the vibe and then sits back, resting on his hands, staring up at the ceiling as
he heaves one deep breath after another.
Charlotte slumps back by him on the carpet in grand disarray. Her hair is a wild tangle of copper and
gold and she drips sweat and cum down her face and onto her breasts.
“You look utterly beautiful like that,” I say. She gives me a film star smile.
“How about a soak in the tub,” says James.
“Great idea. Charlotte, red, white or cava?”
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