*****

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?

falling out of

No…

She’s his world….

What then?

?

Aaahhh…

Fucking obvious….

His daughter…

suffering from

trying to

not in the

Time to step in…

around I hold her wrists tugging them, none too gently, behind her back, then in a voice loud enough for

breath catches. James’ eyes meet mine

Pupils dilating…

That’s doing it…

As she drops, James’ gaze follows her. “That’s better,” I say, backing off

naked, Charlotte,” I say,

of her thighs to the hem of her pullover. I beat her to it. Fisting one hand into her hair, I tug, raising

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

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,

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 eyes are black as he stands

… thankfully…

pants

grab her at the back of the thighs, hooking an arm around each leg to spread her open. As I expose

tilts his

the top button of his shirt. “Michael, would you like me to

resting against mine, and my own shaft,

I’m

He puts

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

he draws a fingertip along the tender crease where thigh meets vulva. A shudder runs through her and I crane to see. James’

lives hooked on

“Can you see now?”

watch the reflection as

deep pink against marble skin and copper curls. James traces the delicate furrow of her inner thigh,

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

drawer to return with something… several

wordless as he displays it

it low

“Sounds good to me.”

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

hold. Waves pass through her body, massaging my sandwiched

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

her up a little more at the hip.” He reaches for his pocket again, this time extracting a small

shuffle under her, jerking her to a new position, now biting down on my self-control

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