Chapter 101: The Girl Who Was Hunted - Chapter Seventeen
MICHAEL
Immediately, I withdraw from her, but now it’s my turn. My cock slick with her juices, I ease into her ass,
watching her face from behind as I do so. James is watching too; her expression. I love taking her up
the back, so does he; but always we are careful when we do so.
But she seemsfortable, her breathing short and rapid, eyes a little zed, but okay.
“Charlotte, am I hurting you?”
She shakes her head, still with that same dreamy expression, and now, after a couple of short, slow
test thrusts, I sheath myself inside her.
Her orgasm hasn’t fully died away. She still pulses inside, and her hips are a-quiver.…
Another one, Baby?
With easy slow thrusts, I fuck her ass, but reaching around again to her clitoris, I start to work her
again. She’s moaning softly. James, seeing what’s happening, reaches in, tweaking at her nipples,
rolling and pulling. And with each movement, she trembles and shivers.
And now, shees again, this time rising back onto her hands, face upraised as she howls her
climax.
And that’s enough for me. Irresistibly, I cum, and balls tight, I shoot into her, mming in my load as I
bend close over her, holding her tightly at the hip and waist.
She may want me to be her ‘Golden Lover’, and for her, I will be, but still, I want to fuck my Charlotte.
*****
CHARLOTTE
It is very good of Beth to invite me out, and Richard encourages her to be my friend, but I find shopping
with her a bit surreal. It’s great fun, but the shops she uses have sky-high prices and, although my
Master always encourages me to buy something, still I don’t like taking money from him or Michael. It
doesn’t feel right.
I buy myself a pair of pretty but cheap ear-rings, paying from my own ount, and keeping my
Master’s credit card firmly in my purse.
And now it is time for afternoon tea….
*****
I sit, surrounded by twittering airheads; a dozen women, all newly introduced to me, and already, I have
forgotten most of their names.
The topics of conversation involve how much their husbands are earning, hairstyles, fashion, who
might be pregnant next, how much shopping allowance their husbands give them….
Don’t any of them actually do anything?
None of them seems to have any life outside a procession of parties, entertainment and shopping. All
live in the reflected glow of their husband’s business or upation, satellites to someone else’s reality.
What do they do all day?
It urs to me that Michael must make quite a bit of money out of these women. As I listen, it is clear
that his Centre is a popr destination. They talk of gyms and make-overs, pamper days and
manicures, who is the best masseur….
“The handsome, blond guy…. you know the one…. with the beautiful eyes….”
Mmmm.…
I am bored rigid, trying to remain polite, and to at least appear to be paying attention to the prattling
around me. Some of the woman are lovely to look at, or at least, perfectly made up and turned out,
which often amounts to the same thing, and around us, I see male heads turned, looking in at the
group, scanning the perfect faces.
Sitting, sipping tea from fine porcin, exchanging meaningless chit-chat with these primped and
preeneddies, nheless, I can’t help but notice that Beth stands out among them. Noticeably, some
of the surreptitious male admirers from around us are looking at her in particr. Although she is, like
the others, perfectly turned out and spotlessly groomed, there is, in her eyes, a spark. She, like me,
came from humble beginnings, and I know that she also had, in her own way, a fight to get to where
she is.
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And does she like it now, where she is?
Our eyes meet, and she sucks in a smile, rolling her eyes at the Barbie-like, conveyor-belt-produced
beauty sitting next to her, whose current conversation centres around the best choice of polish to avoid
chipped nails.
I begin to think that I may wear my roughened hands with pride.
The tea party disperses, one after another of the Stepford Wives making her excuses and leaving.
Eventually, only Beth and I remain.
“Want something a bit stronger than tea?” she asks.
I sniff. “A ss of wine would be nice, wouldn’t it.”
We order a bottle of chilled rosé, with some nibbles to stop the alcohol sitting too heavily.
Beth looks at me. “Sorry about that,” she says. “I forget that you’re new to this. Dearly as I love
Richard, having to keeppany with the wives of his business associates can be a bit wearing.”
“Mmm....” I try to be nonmittal, to avoid being rude about Beth’s friends.
“It’s okay,” she says. “I know exactly what you’re thinking. It was just the same for me, as it became
clear that Richard and I were more than just….” She looks at me closely now. “You’d better get used to
it though.”
I’m startled. “What? Why?”
“You’re with James, and he’s Richard’s co-director now, his partner. You’re going to have to rub
shoulders with them too.”
I’d not thought of that….
Sheughs. “Don’t panic. It’s not all the time. Just put on your best bib and tucker when they have
dinners and what-have-you, paste on your ‘polite’ face, and live your own life the rest of the time.”
An hourter, the bottle is all but empty, and it urs to me that I really do have a kindred spirit in Beth.
She very much understands where I havee from, and she understands too, a lot of what is inside
my head. With Beth, I can unload my worries.
“I have James telling me that he doesn’t want me to go back to university next term; that it’s too
dangerous until they track down the gang members they are looking for….” I am almost in despair.
“After everything I went through to get there, and now to be told I can’t go back….”
“Have you agreed to not go back?”
“Um, no, not exactly….”
She gives my hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. It’s only going to be temporary. Perhaps some
of your academic work could be moved around with your on-the-job training? That way it just changes
the timing of individual parts of your work, doesn’t it? Not the whole thing. If you like, I’ll talk with
Richard. I’m sure he’d help if he knew about it.” She grins, wickedly. “And you do havepensations.
After all, you’ve got two of them to y with, haven’t you.”
Iugh. She leans in, conspiratorially. “Don’t they ever get jealous of each other?”
“No, not ever. It’s never been a problem at all. The only time jealousy ever came into y was….” and I
stall. How do I tell Beth that the single real outburst of jealousy came from my Master, over my meeting
her own husband for the first time? Although, now that I think about it, his reaction to Daniel has also
rung a warning bell. I change tack.
“After the auction, I met Michael on only the second day. It’s been the two of them ever since.”
Eyes wide, she stares at me. “So, when….” Her mobile rings. “st!” she mutters. Answering it. “Hi,
Ross. Yes, sorry I’mte. I was just chatting with Charlotte. Yes, I’ming now.”
She looks at me apologetically, waving over the waiter for the check. “Sorry. Gotta go. Here, this is my
treat.” She pays the bill and leaves, smiling and waving back at me as she vanishes into the crowd,
disappointed male faces following her.
*****
In Reception, having returned from my shopping trip with Beth, through the internal window I can see
my Master talking with Richard. They’re obviously busy so I pour myself a coffee and sit to read a
textbook while I wait for him.
“Dendritic structures in the cooling of cast metals….” I settle to read, making asional notes in the
margins.
Concentrating on my book, I startle as a shadow looms over me. “Sorry,”es my Master’s voice.
“Didn’t mean to make you jump.” His head twists as he looks to see what I am reading. “You find the
metallurgical side of things interesting?”
“Mmm, yes I do. It’s very visual, easy to think about….”
We are interrupted as Richard exits the office. “Hello, Charlotte. Not waiting too long I hope?”
“No, just a few minutes.” In fact, I have no idea how long I’ve been waiting. Long enough to work
through a couple of chapters of my book.
He turns to my Master. “Anyway, we can finish it off tomorrow and….” His phones pings. “S’cuse me….
Oh, hello Ross. No, she’s not here. I thought she was with you. No? Hold on a minute…. Charlotte, did
Elizabeth say where she was going when you partedpany?”
“She said that Ross was taking her home, and she was going to meet him.”
A cloud passes over Richard’s face. “When was that?”
“Er, maybe, three o’clock.”
He checks his watch. “That’s over two hours ago.” There is urgency in his voice. He spins. “Francis….”