Charlotte's Search - The Complete Series

Her Master’s Wedding-7

I kiss her again, on the lips, and then on the fingers, to seal the promise again. She doesn’t speak as I pass her hand to Michael. In his turn, he too kisses her fingers and the rings. Then, his mouth opening over hers, he pulls her face to his. One hand entwined in her hair, the other around her waist, he locks his hold on her as she curves to meet him, her lips parting under his.

After a long moment, Michael steps back, but cradles her face in his hands, holds her eyes with his. “Nothing is going to change,” he says. “I promise you. I would never do that. You, me, James….” His glance strays to mine briefly…. “…. the three of us all know… I hope that we all know…. that what happens tomorrow is only in the eyes of the law, and the outside world. In here, between us, it’s the three of us. You understand me?”

Her chest rising and falling, colour pinking on her pale cheeks, she nods.

“Good.” Another kiss, then his hands slip to her shoulders, turning her to face me.

I take her from him, sliding fingers over the delicate lines of her cheekbones. “Charlotte?”

And now she smiles, her body relaxing against mine as I too kiss her. Her earlier rigidity has melted. Instead, her response hums from her flesh to mine. Her skin is heating, and her pupils are dark jewels in their emerald setting.

Now?

I exchange a glance with Michael, who lowers his lids, nodding slightly.

Yes, now….

…. As I unbutton her blouse, Michael approaches close behind to slide it from her shoulders. A second or so more, and her bra follows, leaving our mermaid beautiful and bare-breasted as she faces me.

Where?

I survey the room…. Desk, bookshelves, boxes….

We can do better than this….

“It’s a good room,” I say, “but not for this, I think. Shall we move to the bedroom?”

With the air of a magician revealing how he has ‘disappeared the lady’, Michael snaps his fingers. “Excellent idea.” He grabs her, Charlotte’s eyes flinging open as he spins her, then like some latter-day caveman, slings her over his shoulder.

Charlotte howling with merriment, head and hair dangling, Michael carries her out and along to the next room, the bedroom the three of us share together. Unceremoniously, he dumps her on the bed where, breasts bouncing, she flops onto the mattress, still giggling like a schoolgirl.

Perfect!

How to set a mood….

Get her laughing again….

“Thank you, Michael. Nice work, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

Eyes dancing, he takes a small bow. “We aim to please.” Then turning back to the chortling beauty on the bed, points down. “Shoes off.”

He’s ahead of me, but not by much. My shaft is responding to the call, demanding freedom….

Time to prove joint ownership….

…. and with a small sigh of relief, I peel off my shirt, kicking off shoes and pants.

Charlotte’s eyes dart between us, alive with excitement….

She knows what’s coming….

…. We’re going to f**k you ‘til you squeal….

Fumbling in her haste to unlace her trainers, she kicks them over the edge of the bed as I catch up with her, tugging at her wrists to pull her flat. Michael attends to the other end, unbuckling her belt and simply tugging away her jeans, tossing them to one side complete with panties.

As her clothes go, her perfume surges….

Oh, yes….

You’re ready for us….

Sopping, I’ll wager….

Michael’s not gentle. Charlotte’s had her reassurance, and this isn’t the moment for romance. This is the moment to demonstrate that she belongs to both of us.

And that we both belong to her….

Michael is already erect, his shaft purpling by the second. He pries her knees open, shoving her thighs wide, and with no niceties, pushes two fingers inside, giving her a brief finger-f*****g before pulling free again, tasting the fingers with the air of a connoisseur. Even from my position at the other side of the bed, I see the gleam of her juices.

“Yup, thought you’d be wet already,” he says. “Good thing we’re both ready for you, eh?”

She’s quaking and panting, her eyes not leaving the length of him as he clambers over her, then in a single movement, hilts himself. Balls-deep inside, he supports himself above her while she gasps from his abrupt penetration. “Come on, let’s hear you scream a bit. James likes it when you do that.”

My c**k throbs satisfyingly….

Yes, he f*****g does….

But I’m happy to wait while I watch the show. Michael rams into her, slamming home with each stroke, and with each stroke she yells and shudders, the vibe passing through her body to mine where I still have her pinned at the wrists. And with every stroke and shout, my shaft twitches in anticipation.

She’s sweating freely. So’s he, with the effort he’s putting in, the light gleaming across his shoulders and her breasts. Her breasts shudder as he ricochets into her again, and now her eyes are beginning to roll. Mouth open, red-faced, she looks back and up at me. I give her a wink and a click of the tongue.

Abruptly he rolls away from her, leaving her limp and heaving. “James, you want to take over? I’m going to finish off in her mouth.”

Delighted….

Michael pauses a moment as I take my place between her thighs, then tugs her forward so her hips edge the bed. As I get her into position, I drop down to kneel. She’s hot and open and pungent. And as I take my first taste, I hear Michael speaking….

“Tighten up. Lips around your teeth.”

…. and as I lap at her delectable entrance, her voice muffles.

Between her own arousal and Michael’s forthright f*****g, she’s already gaping and swollen, p***y lips inflated, red and shiny and slick. Honey coats her thighs, and the auburn of her loins glistens. All I have to do, aside from enjoying my mermaid in my preferred manner, is to ease her along….

Her clit, small and stiffly erect, begs to be sucked, but I’m of a mood to indulge myself….

It’s not as though Michael doesn’t have her attention….

In fact, her body is rocking with the face-f*****g he’s delivering, and to stay steady I have to anchor myself with a palm flat against either thigh.

I’ll cope….

…. Somehow….

Gagged and writhing, pinned under Michael’s weight where he straddles her, Charlotte sounds as though she is having a good time.

Smiling to myself, I explore her p***y. Citrus and salt and that piquant tang which is uniquely hers, flood my mouth, coating my tongue and, as I swallow, leave an aftertaste of pure s*x.

When they say you can ‘taste lust’…

I’d thought she was already fully open, but she’s still engorging, still opening. Still, I’m feeling greedy, stretching her wide with my fingers, using elbows to prop myself against her thighs as she jolts and quakes.

Time to make her sing….

Thumbing at her clit, I plant my mouth over her streaming cunt, plying flesh as it begins to pulse with lips and tongue and teeth. Almost vibrating against my close-pressed face, her juices spill hot over nose and chin.

Abruptly, there is a slight rocking from above and Charlotte’s voice clears….

Michael withdrawing to watch her come?

Her cries grow louder… Edgier….

… Climax takes her. She can’t move. Michael still straddles her. I still hold her. But her body strains, her thighs trembling against my hands as she pulses and throbs and screams her way through orgasm….

And since she can’t move, I kneel back on my heels to watch, enjoying the show and my own erection as I stroke it, lubing myself with pre-c*m.

Michael, briefly twisting back to grin at me, also spectates the fireworks. Then, as Charlotte relaxes, her voice muffles once more as he presses his shaft to her mouth

But not for long.

He shudders, groans and drops over her, his hips spasming once, twice….

At the third, she finds her voice again, as he withdraws to spurt his last over her face.

And that, I believe, makes it my turn….

Michael pulls away to sit to one side. I rise to lodge my cockhead against the still pulsing muscle of her p***y, savouring the throbbing of her flesh around my own before driving in….

Ah, Jeez….

I was ready for that….

No words capture these moments. Charlotte wails out again, and I groan as I plumb her depths. Finding my rhythm, I thrust, repeat, thrust and repeat, spearing her over and again as I drip sweat onto her already heated skin and her sweat-soaked hair.

And when the moment comes, and I come, I know that all is well as I spurt hot and long into my jade-eyed Love.

*****

That night, as she sleeps between us, in the dimness cast by the night-light, I see Michael, arms clasped behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

Wedding nerves?

“Restless?”

The whites of his eyes flick across, then he rolls to face me, eye-pointing downwards, speaking quietly. “What would you have done?”

“Done? When?”

“What you have done…. if she’d said that she really didn’t want to marry me?

Ah… Christ….

How do I answer that?

Be truthful….

“Probably, given in to temptation and married her myself.”

*****

Chapter Twenty-One - James - The Wedding Day

The morning is chaotic. In theory, Michael and I, Richard and the guests occupy the hotel. Charlotte and Beth have the house. In practice, people mill about in all directions, turning up in unexpected places….

Still in jeans and tee-shirt while I make a last check on preparations, I eject a couple of kids from the kitchen where the chef’s knife set seems to be a magnet for them. Then as I turn to leave, I run into an old lady trying to force the larder door open.

“I was only looking for the ladies’ toilets….”

“And who are you?”

“I’m Michael’s Aunty Gladys”

“Well, I’m James, his Best Man, and you’ll find the toilets along the corridor.” Taking her by the shoulders, I turn her around, steering her to aim the right way, then wait and watch to be sure she toddles off.

In the bedroom we’re using as a changing room, Michael looks harassed. “Please tell me you remembered to lock the door to the cellars in the house.”

“Oh, yes. We don’t want random wanderers down there,” I flash brows, fishing out my keys, jingle them in demonstration, then tuck them safely back in my pocket. “All locked and secure.”

Jeez….

The idea of Ben wandering down there….

For someone normally so sunny, so self-contained, so competent, Michael is a bag of nerves. He misbuttons his shirt and has to unfasten then rebutton it. The tie dangling under his collar, he fumbles and mis-knots it. The front ends up three inches long with the back half trailing by his belt. The result looks like something worn by a circus clown.

He tries again, with a similar result.

“I’ll do it for you in a sec,” I say, brushing specks of dust from his dark grey formal jacket.

“Here, let me.” It’s Ben. “Come on Bro. Calm down.” Michael shoots him a grateful glance as Ben unravels the tie, then reknots it into a perfect Windsor. “You should have a drink. What is there around here?”

I point to a bottle and glasses. “Scotch over there.”

Michael shudders. “Don’t think I could handle it.”

“You should have some breakfast at least.”

Ben raises brows. “Yes, he should. I’ll bring something up for you. Is the kitchen open, James?”

“The staff should be in there by now. Just tell them what you want.”

“How about bacon sandwiches all round then?”

Michael’s face sets, so I interrupt. “Great idea, Ben. Get something solid inside him.”