Auctioned to the Biker

by Mia Ford

  I go outside, get on my Harley and hit the road. I realize that I’m still dressed in the exact same clothes I’d been wearing the previous day, but I couldn’t give a damn. I’m not going to some fancy function and if the owner thinks I smell funny or something I’ll just add another thousand dollars to my bribe.

  When I pull up in front of the gates which separates the main road from the mansion I don’t see anyone there and I have to press a button on the intercom and wait.

  “Good day, are you here to do a delivery?” someone who is obviously a servant, asks.

  “No, I’ve just come to see the owner so can you please let me in,” I say.

  “Can you please state your business, sir?” the servant replies and I nearly lose my temper.

  “Let me put it this way, if you don’t open up this goddamned gate right now I will kick it open! I have some urgent business to discuss with the owner of this mansion and I suggest you open this gate immediately!”

  There is a moment of silence and I wonder if I’ve overplayed my hand. But then the gates slowly swing open and I opened the throttle to drive up to the front of the mansion.

  “Ah, you’re back again. Could you please explain why you found it necessary to address my servant that way?” the owner asks from his position at the top of the stairs. I can see that he is slightly irritated.

  “I apologize for losing my temper,” I say, “I just really need some information about that girl I met here last night… Jenny?”

  “I’m afraid I won’t be able to give you any of that information. As you know, we are pretty strict about that kind of thing. Was it not explained to you before the auction last night?”

  I walked up to the man and hand him half of the money I brought. I know that he’s probably very rich in his own right, but cash is cash and I can see that my gesture makes quite an impression on him.

  “I really don’t want you to do anything illegal or against the rules, but I just liked that girl a lot and I want to take her out for dinner sometime. Do you think you could perhaps tell me where to get a hold of her… give me her number or something like that?”

  The man looks at me for a moment and I can tell that he’s caught between two thoughts. On the one hand, he probably doesn’t want to jeopardize the nice business he has with these auctions. I mean, there must’ve been more than two hundred men at his mansion the previous evening and, at a thousand dollars per head entrance fee, that amounts to a nice two hundred thousand dollars for the evening, all payable to him in cash. On the other hand, I just handed him roughly 25,000 dollars and is difficult for him to walk away from that kind of bonus amount of cash. I decide to make my final play and take out the rest of the money from my pocket.

  “Perhaps this will help you to make a final decision,” I say and hand him the rest of the money. He stands there with roughly 50,000 dollars in cash in his hands and I know that we’ve got a winner. He looks at me and then gestures to me that I should follow him inside.

  “I’m only doing this because you’re obviously a gentleman… Please don’t mention to anyone that I gave you any information,” he says and I quickly indicate that I will keep his assistance to me strictly confidential. We walk over to his office and he pulls out a file with some documents in it.

  “I’m going to give you the only information that I can possibly share with you, as the details of her bank account and so on is definitely off the table,” he says.

  “I totally understand, whatever information you can give me will be appreciated,” I say and looked at him expectantly.

  “Well, her surname is Williams… Jenny Williams, and that’s all I can tell you.”

  “Thank you, that helps a lot and I truly appreciate you helping me with this!” I say and my heart starts beating excitedly inside my chest. I quickly leave the mansion and drive out the gates as fast as I can. Now that I know her name I feel confident that it won’t be too long before I physically locate her.

  “Jenny Williams get ready, here I come!” I shout as I drive back to my own place with the wind whistling past me on my Harley Davidson.

  I get home and rush inside. The first thing I do is to grab a local telephone directory and I start looking for the name ‘Jenny Williams’. My heart sinks when I discover that there are seventeen people by the name of ‘Jenny Williams’ listed for my area. What’s more, when I start dialing the numbers many of them no longer exist. I take a look at the front cover of the telephone directory and realize that it’s more than 10 years old. Having spent the last couple of years on the road, I haven’t really had time to do stuff like getting the latest telephone directory. Most of these things are now digital anyway and I’m struck by the thought that I might have better success if I just go onto the Internet and look her up there.

  I open up my laptop, find the Google search page and type in ‘Jenny Williams’. But this search yields even less than my telephone directory efforts, as there are thousands upon thousands of internet pages with the name ‘Jenny Williams’ on it. Not only is it a very common name, it also seems there are many characters in books and novels bearing the name ‘Jenny Williams’.

  “Dammit!” I exclaim and slam my laptop shut. I rack my brains for a possible solution to my predicament and then it strikes me… Facebook!

  I quickly open up my laptop again and find my Facebook profile. I haven’t been on it for ages, so it takes me a while before I remember the password. When I finally get onto my homepage I quickly type ‘Jenny Williams’ in the search box. The results are fairly similar to what I got on the Internet… There are so many profiles bearing the name ‘Jenny Williams’ that I quickly realize it’s going to be an impossible task to check all of them. Not only are there too many profiles to check, many of the profiles don’t have a picture of a face and I’m never going to know when I’m actually looking at the profile of the ‘Jenny Williams’ I’m looking for.

  I walk over to the kitchen and make a massive pot of fresh coffee. I’m not about to give up and, even if it takes me the rest of the weekend and twenty pots of black coffee, I’m going to figure out a way to find her!

  Chapter 5: Jenny

  I’m so excited when the taxi drops Stacy and me off in front of her apartment that I can barely contain myself. We run inside and go on to my Internet banking base just to make sure the whole thing is actually real. I login and there it is again… My balance is now seven hundred and fifty-two thousand dollars. The other two thousand dollars was all I had in my account before last night and now I am rich!

  “You know, until I saw my bank balance going over seven and fifty thousand dollars I thought the whole thing might just be a hoax,” I say with a happy grin and Stacy dances around her apartment like little kid who’s just got the bike for Christmas.

  “It’s absolutely unbelievable! I want you to tell me each and every single little detail of what happened last night,” Stacy says and sits down in front of me with a very expectant look on her pretty face. I look at her and suddenly feel incredibly grateful to who is my best friend. If it wasn’t for her I would never even have known about the Virgin auction.

  “I promise you I’m going to tell you everything that happened… but right now I’m beginning to feel a bit tired,” I said, and really meant it. I guess the act of fucking eleven bikers all night has finally gotten to me and I don’t think I’ll be able to make it over to my own apartment before I fall asleep.

  “You know what? I’m also feeling tired and I don’t want to miss a single thing when you finally tell me all about it, so I think we should both take a little nap right now,” Stacy says and I immediately fall down on my back on her comfortable couch. Stacy drops down on the opposite end of the same couch and drags a blanket over the both of us. She always keeps a blanket nearby, as she spends most of her evenings on the couch, watching TV. It doesn’t take long before I drifted off to dreamland and, not surprisingly, I fall into such a deep sleep that I don’t even remember what I dreamed when I wake up later tha
t same day.

  “Man, I really enjoyed that little nap,” Stacy says and rubs her eyes as she sits up straight on the couch after waking up a couple of minutes after me.

  “I guess it’s time I told you all about the juicy details of what I did with those bikers upstairs in the mansion last night,” I say with a naughty grin, “but I’ve been thinking about it and I believe the two of us deserve to treat ourselves a little tonight!”

  “That sounds great… What exactly is it that you have in mind?” Stacy asks. I look at her for a moment and then make up my mind.

  “You and I are going to go to the most expensive restaurant in Los Angeles and have ourselves a real stylish time!” I shout excitedly and then both of us jump to our feet and embrace to start off the evening’s celebrations. We both go to Stacy’s room and she borrows me one of her outfits, a trendy little red number and silver sandals to go with it. I look in the mirror and realize I haven’t even taken off my earrings. They actually go quite nicely with the outfit, so I keep them on and splash some quick makeup on my face. That said, I don’t think we need to spend any more time making ourselves pretty,” I say and Stacy nods her head in quick agreement.

  “Okay, I’m ready to go!” She says and the next moment we are on our way to ‘Les Mans’, the most expensive French restaurant in Los Angeles. We take a taxi and I give the guy a twenty dollar tip as we get out. Stacy just smiles at my extravagance and we bounce inside the restaurant and find ourselves a beautiful table near the window.

  “Good evening Madame,” a fancy French waiter says with a sexy French accent as he hands us each a menu, “Can I get you anything to drink and some tasty hors d’oeuvres to start the evening?”

  “Yes thank you,” I say in my most modest voice, “We will take the most expensive champagne you have and after that we’ll decide what we want to have for hors d’oeuvres.” My pronunciation of the French word is so funny that Stacy bursts out laughing and I cannot contain myself either, so I laugh out loud with her.

  “Oui Madame, I will bring you our best bottle of Moët et Chandon French champagne,” the waiter says with just the hint of a smile around his mouth corners and makes a little bow before turning around to go and fetch our drinks. Stacy looks on the drinks menu and her eyes open wide when she sees the price of the bottle of champagne. Next line “Good Lord! That bottle of champagne you just ordered goes for two hundred and sixty dollars a bottle,” she whispers in a low, conspiratorial voice. At first, I feel slightly shocked to hear this news, but then I realize that I have seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars in the bank and I find all of the stress draining out of my body.

  “In that case, I think we should order two bottles!” I say and we both burst out laughing again. The waiter returns with the champagne and pours us each a glass. I take a little sip and love the way the bubbles seem to dance around on my tongue. The champagne is slightly more bitter than I expected, but I soon realize why it is so expensive… it leaves a beautiful aftertaste on my tongue and I can’t wait to take another sip.

  “Don’t you just love the way it seems to set your belly on fire?” Stacy says and I can tell that she has also fallen in love with the expensive champagne. When the waiter returns we decide to try out the is escargot, a fancy French name for snails.

  “Eww, do you really think we’ll be able to eat that?” Stacy says when I explain to her what we are about to eat.

  “Don’t worry, if you don’t like it you can spit it out again,” I say and Stacy pulls a sour face. A moment later the waiter returns and the snails actually look a lot more palatable than it sounds when you think about what you are eating. They swim around in a little butter source and we each get a small little fork with which we each dig out a single snail.

  “On three!” I say and count to three. We both put the snails in our mouths and, to my shock and surprise, it’s absolutely delicious! It has a buttery, garlicky taste and it simply melts away on my tongue like some kind of heavenly angel’s food.

  “Hmmm, this is absolutely gorgeous,” Stacy says and closes her eyes as she puts another snail in her mouth. We sit there and enjoy our starters, washing it down with copious amounts of expensive French champagne. It feels really good to have money to spoil ourselves for a change and I find myself thinking back to all those evenings when Stacy and I used to sit in her apartment, eating two-minute noodles and drinking Kool-Aid because we didn’t have money for anything better.

  “You know me and I’ve never been a snob, but after tasting this I can totally understand why people spend thousands of dollars for dinner at these restaurants,” Stacy says and I am in perfect agreement with her. The good life tastes really great and I know that I never want to be poor again… ever.

  “Are you ready to order your entrées?” the friendly French waiter asks and I and shake my head, almost violently.

  “No! We plan on staying here all night and it’s way too soon for us to have the main course,” I say and the waiter nods his head.

  “What I’d really like to try is an oyster or two… If you don’t mind?” Stacy says and looks at me, almost feeding.

  “Tonight, Stacy my dear, you can have all the oysters in this restaurant if that is your heart’s desire,” I say and the waiter inclines his head slightly before disappearing to go and fetch us each a couple of oysters.

  “I almost feel like I’d like to try each and every single thing on the menu,” Stacy says with a grin and I totally agree with her. We end up trying to more starters; one which consists of fried mushrooms with pepper and cream and another one which is basically some kind of raw meat mixed with spicy herbs. It all tastes like heaven and I find myself wondering if I’ll ever have any room left for the main course after all of this. Stacy and I each have some more of the champagne and when I look at the bottle I realize that it’s nearly empty. I quickly order us another bottle of the same heavenly liquid and it’s not long before Stacy and I are slightly pissed.

  “I propose a toast to the Virginia auction!” I say excitedly and Stacy laughs out loud.

  “Don’t you mean the virgin auction?” she laughs.

  “Yes… whatever, I propose a toast to it” I say and drain my glass.

  “Now that your tongue is well oiled, dear girlfriend, I want you to tell me each and every juicy little detail of the unspeakable things you and those eleven bikers did to one another up in the bedroom at the mansion last night,” Stacy says and leans forward with great expectation.

  I proceed to tell her everything we did and I leave out absolutely nothing. Stacy listens with bated breath and I can tell that she’s getting hot as I tell her how I sucked off all the bikers and allowed them to shoot their come all over my naked body. When I tell her how they each took turns fucking me while I was handcuffed to the bed railing, it looks as if she’s close to experiencing an orgasm of her own.

  “Okay stop… you’re getting me so hot that I’m going to slide right off this chair if you carry on any further,” Stacy says after about half an hour and I sit back in my chair with great satisfaction.

  “Great! My job here is done and I hope that I have now got you so horny that you won’t be able to concentrate for the rest of the evening.”

  “I wouldn’t say that I was in much of a condition to keep my concentration before you started… but whatever, I now feel like I can focus even less accurationateley,” Stacy giggles and also drains her glass of champagne.

  “What the hell does accurationateley mean?” I ask and also start giggling.

  “It’s not my fault you didn’t pay attention in English class… go look it up!” Stacy says in her best headmaster’s voice and we both laugh so hard that everyone in the restaurant stops eating to look at us. By this time Stacy and I are giggling at absolutely everything and we don’t even care that we are causing a commotion. All of the champagne has made me hungry and I finally feel like I’m ready for the main course.

  “I think I’ll be having the lobster,” I say when the waiter c
omes around again to ask us what we would like to order.

  “And me!” Stacy says, drunkenly. The waiter soon returns with two delicious looking plates of food with massive lobsters on top of beds of rice and vegetables. It takes us a while to figure out exactly how to eat the lobsters, but once we manage to get the meat out of the shells we both smack our lips as we taste just how delicious it is.

  “I can really get used to this lifestyle,” Stacy says for the umpteenth time and I just nod my head. When we’re done with the lobster I can tell that Stacy is just as full as I am and I don’t think I have place for one more bite. We get the bill and, unlike so many other times when I’ve paid with my credit card in the past, this time I have no fear that the payment won’t go through. I add a handsome tip for our friendly waiter and he offers to call us a cab. We gladly accept his offer and have two cups of delicious coffee just to sober us up a little bit before we go home.

  It’s not long before the waiter walks over to tell us that our cab has arrived and we stumble out of the restaurant, still laughing and giggling. We sing all the way over to Stacy’s apartment and somehow make it up the stairs and get inside without causing ourselves serious injury after the cabdriver drops us off.

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to sleep on my couch again!” Stacy says as I flop down on the couch in her apartment.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much when you’re drunk?” I say and pull the blanket over me as I make myself comfortable. It’s not long before I fall asleep and Stacy snuggles up on the other end of the couch with me, just like she’d done earlier that morning. We sleep until late the next morning and when we finally get up I can tell that Stacy has just as bad a hangover as I do.