James

Drifting in comfortable coziness, something penetrates my awareness….

Charlotte’s voice…

No… Charlotte’s groans…

I lie, unmoving, just listening.

It’s not just a groan; almost a gurgle, it’s throaty, deep…. Utterly delicious….

Jeez, what a way to wake…

… Sheer fucking catnip.

Michael’s voice; “That good?”

“Oh, God, yes.”

And my erection rises like a rooster ready to crow the dawn…

Is that why they call them cocks?

Peeling my lids open, Charlotte’s face is close to mine, lips peeled back over her teeth, her eyes squeezed closed in a grimace might be taken for pain…

… but we all know better than that…

Michael is distracted, trying to find something in a side drawer…

Oil? Vibe?

Help things along…

Moving gradually so as not to alert her, slipping down and in, I target her bud. Hot juices spilling over my skin, I rub circles thumb and forefinger over her hooded clit. She yells, bucks and her eyes fly open.

His eyes creasing, Michael says, “You joining us?”

“In a while. Don't let me interrupt you.”

“As if I would.”

were you looking

Doesn’t matter now if you’re

hear it. Good morning, Charlotte.” I ease back the hood of her clit with a thumb, exposing the small hard spike. With

“G’ morning Mast... Aaahhh…”

teeth against his tan. His gaze fixed on her face for a moment, then his eyes drop as he watches himself

How close is she?

Not far off…

harder, rub a little harder and her head flings back

James! Take it

Is that right?

at the same spot. She sings. He grunts. “Come on, slacken off a bit.

I keep rubbing…

it!” And he pitches forward onto his hands, hips juddering against hers. My shaft quivering as I watch, her wail morphs to a scream and at the same

Holy crap…

both red-faced, heaving and sweating. After a good minute, Michael’s

says, “that your Master would like your

gaze opens

“Yes, Charlotte?”

you

groin pulses. “I think Michael had it about

breathing with her

have been one

Wonder what I missed…?

She sits upright…

to

“Um, Michael…”

unlocks his arm from his death-grip around

Dry mouth?

did he keep her

fuckin’ alarm next

her. She sips at it, swishing it around her mouth then

swinging his legs from the bed. “I’ll go make

please,” says Charlotte. “I’m

can.” He stoops, kisses her, then tugging on a bathrobe, winks

looks down to where the sheets are raised in a respectable tent. Eyes dancing, she hooks a finger over the edge of the sheet, pulling it back to

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