by Amy Faye
She let the man buy her something, his choice. He chose a mojito for her. She took it without mentioning that she’d never had one before. Last night of freedom. Experimenting was on the menu. It tasted violently fresh and went down with a burn that left the rum as an after-taste. She immediately wanted another mouthful. Some experiments pay off.
“You like it?”
Harper nodded. “It’s great.” It was great. Was it the best thing she’d ever drank? Of course not. But it was good, and she couldn’t ask for much more than that. “It’s a little loud here, you think we could talk somewhere else?”
The man smiled. Harper knew where this was going, and he knew where he wanted it to go. But maybe he’d expected her to play hard to get.
“You always move so fast?”
Harper shrugged. “What’s the point in waiting?”
That made the man smile. He had a hard smile, like he was winning in a competition that had been hard-fought for a long time. But he wasn’t. She was letting him win, and he knew it. He had to know it.
“Interesting view. Sure. I know a little place.” He caught the bartender’s eye, then made a big show out of folding a twenty off of a folded wad of cash and dropping it on the counter, more on her side than on his. “Let’s get out of here.”
Harper followed behind. His arm around her shoulders felt as comforting off the dance floor as it had on the floor. It felt good as they stepped out into the unnaturally-warm December night. Across the street, Christmas lights lit up the display window of a clothing boutique that Harper had shopped at, once or twice. Their selection was bad, and worse, they were pricey.
“You think we should take my car?”
“Take it where?”
“You said—”
“I just wanted to get you out of there,” Harper said, her voice husky. She pulled her top away from her breasts. “I’m just looking to have a little fun, you know? I don’t need a tour of your house, man.”
He looked at her breasts and then looked up at her eyes. “Yeah?”
“Is that a problem, big guy?”
“Not a problem at all,” he said. “My car’s over here, we can get out of the cold first, at least.”
“Sounds great.”
She followed him over to a truck. Not a car, but it would more than do.
“You need help climbing up?”
Harper shook her head. She wasn’t particularly drunk, not from just the one drink. She could at least manage this much. Other than the fact that she’d be giving him quite a show.
She pulled the handle on the passenger seat and the door opened easily. Her skirt hiked up her hips until she knew that her panties were only barely covered as her foot lifted up onto the running board, and then she was stepping into the truck and closing the door behind herself.
She let out a deep breath and relaxed back into the seat as he climbed up into the other side. This was the moment when things could either go really wrong, or not. But she had a good feeling about this, because the worst thing that could happen was getting taken in a kidnapping, and honestly, that wasn’t that much different from what she had planned for herself anyways.
Best case scenario, she had one wild night to herself, and then she would disappear into the sunset. Neither case was going to be a problem for her.
Four
Things moved fast. Harper wasn’t sure whether it was just her sense of things, or if things were really moving quickly, but it seemed as if it was only a blink of an eye before her shoulders pressed back into the truck’s interior paneling, her top pulled aside and her breasts freed to the cold air that had gathered in the truck’s cabin. The engine sounded quietly somewhere else in the front of the car, warming up with the intention to pump hot air, but the air that blew wasn’t hot yet.
It made her nipples hard, and when his tongue roughly licked one of them, her breath caught in her throat and made her sound ragged and desperate. And she was, in spite of herself. Her back arched and pressed into his mouth.
Her mystery man’s other hand pinched and pulled at her other nipple, his mouth latching onto her breast and sucking hard. Harper’s stomach twisted up in arousal and pleasure that she shouldn’t have been giving herself into. She shouldn’t have been doing any of this, she thought. The whole thing, top to bottom, was a mistake.
But then again, there were a lot of mistakes going on in her life right now. She’s just making one more. One that won’t bother her in the least bit going forward.
She swallowed and gasped and the air coming into her lungs was cold and crisp and fresh, just like the mojito he’d bought for her. Her fingers dug into his hair and pulled him in tighter against her breast, wanting more of that sensation. Wanting it just a little stronger, to start releasing some of the tension that was building up in her abdomen.
His teeth bit down and Harper felt a quiver run down her spine. She hadn’t realized how badly she wanted him to do it, but once he did, she couldn’t want anything more.
“Do that again,” she rasped. He did. It felt just as good the second time, making her lips downstairs start to tingle in spite of herself. She took a deep breath locked her legs behind his hips, even though he hadn’t even started to make progress there yet.
“God,” she purred. “That’s good.”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and suck my tits.”
He did what she asked him to. He switched breasts and gave the neglected nipple the treatment that she had enjoyed on the first one. His hand, now freed up from working her breast, started to drift downward. His hand had been pressed against the window beside her, holding himself up, but with the shifting weight he pulled it away and palmed her breast.
It was ice cold after having pressed against the car window for so long, and the combination of his warm tongue and his ice-cold palm sent another convulsion through her, forcing a moan from her throat.
“Jesus,” she gasped.
His hand drifted lower still, lazily tracing a line down her body until it met her hips. He took a fist-full of her hip and pulled her closer in against him. Harper could feel her mystery lover’s cock, hard and pressed through the layers of fabric against her mound. It felt good, and she knew that it was only going to feel better when he had it out and started working on her properly.
She gasped. “Is that for me?”
“Don’t be so hasty,” he said, pulling away from her nipple again. Harper pulled him tight against her again, effectively cutting the conversation off. If he wasn’t going to be pleasuring her, and his cock wasn’t out, then what was the point? No need for talk.
He obliged without complaint, without trying to pull away. She let him, enjoying the sensation of his mouth on her breast, his lips and teeth pulling at her tight, pointed nipple.
“Oh, that’s so good.”
His hand moved between them. She could feel him probing. Could feel his fingers teasing around her entrance. At first Harper thought that he was having trouble finding it, but after a moment she realized that he was making too complete a coverage without ever quite reaching her core. He was teasing her, and he knew exactly what he was doing.
Harper shifted her hips forward, hoping to get a little bit more pleasure from him. Hoping to entice him into something more. His hands pulled away without a problem. Her breath caught in her throat.
“You know how to suck a cock?”
She nodded as he shifted back away from her. The bench seat made life so easy for this. He leaned back and she leaned forward and pulled at his belt. It came apart easily in her hands, leaving nothing but his cock straining against his pants. In a few moments, he’d be putty in her hands. The same way, she thought, that she had been in his only a minute ago. Except that she wasn’t going to let it stop there. She was going to get hers if she had to take it from him.
She pulled his pants down a little ways down his hips. He lifted them up, and they slid easily. His boxers went second, and as they pulled down and his cock came free it sprang
out. It was bigger than she’d realized it would be, and when it flipped out, it threatened to poke her in the eye.
Then she took it in her mouth, because she wasn’t going to back down on this, and she wasn’t going to risk missing out, either.
Five
His hips moved automatically as Harper wrapped her hand around his hardness. It seemed like her lips had to stretch almost to the limits to try to take even just the head in. The movement of his hips, however involuntary, made her feel like she was going to lose her mind. How could this fit inside anyone? It already hurt her jaw and she’d been doing this for what felt like five seconds.
She pulled away and took a breath. Her head felt like it was swimming, and she felt like she was going to lose her mind. What was it going to be like when he finally put it inside her? How was she going to cope with that? She didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure that she’d be able to find out. Not if it was half as much of a struggle as she had with getting it into her mouth.
She moved her hands, pumping along the shaft as she pulled her head away and took a breath. It was big, but it wasn’t that big. She wasn’t going to look like she didn’t know what she was doing. Somehow, the fact that he was a complete stranger and she’d probably never see him again made the impulse that much stronger.
If they were dating, or something, then she could justify it. Her jaw hurts today, or something. She could convince him that it was a temporary mistake that she was more than capable of rectifying. But the fact that he wasn’t going to be around longer, that this was going to be her only chance to leave an impression, made it feel as if she were limited to tonight. She had to either convince him that she was serious and leave a good impression, or…
Well, there wouldn’t be a second chance. She let out a long breath and ducked her head. She was going to need to fight for this. Harper worked her jaw open and shut for a moment, feeling her muscles flex and stretch, and then she leaned down and took him into her mouth again.
“Deeper,” he breathed, so softly that she wasn’t sure that he’d meant for her to hear him at all. But she did hear him. And as difficult as it was, she took him deeper. The groan that he let out as he did lit the fire in her stomach again. She wasn’t going to be outdone, nor outmatched.
She bobbed her head gently, his fingers interlacing with her hair.
“Wetter,” he said softly. She tried to be sloppier. It wasn’t hard, not with her mouth spread open so wide. Harper could feel him pressing against the back of her throat as his hips moved to meet her head, as he tried to take what he could from her. She gave willingly. It was too good to do anything else.
And then, all of a sudden, he took a grip on her hair, hard, and pulled her off. Harper took a deep, gasping breath as she did, the pain emptying her lungs in an instant and demanding that she refilled them on her own.
“God,” he breathed. “That was…”
The way that he looked at Harper made her womanhood tingle with the knowledge that he was going to take her next. That there was no avoiding the last part of this. The part that she’d been looking forward to since the first time that she’d seen him, days ago.
“Lay back,” he said. She did what she was told, her hips sliding forward so that she could lay out on the leather-upholstered bench seats. The air coming out of the vents was hot, now, and it matched perfectly with the feeling of the environment in the cabin. She felt like she was on fire.
Her mystery man took her legs under her knees and lifted them up to fit around his hips, lifting her ass up off the seat and tucking his own legs underneath. He lined himself up with her entrance before he even bothered to pull her panties aside. He pulled them off to one side then with one hand, and lined his tip up nestled in with her folds using the other.
His hips rocked forward, and she held herself steady. It was big, she thought again. Too big. Impossibly big. She felt herself stretching, felt herself trying to open herself up. She relaxed. She’d never had anything like this. Never had to take anything this big, this deep, this… much.
Harper’s eyes forced themselves shut. She needed it. She was going to get it, too. With time. Her eyes closed and she focused on the sensations inside her. His head scraped her insides in the most delicious possible way. She let out a long, low sigh.
Then he started to move. It was slow, at first. There was a little voice in Harper’s mind, pleading with her. Faster. More. Need more. Need it faster. She didn’t realize until she’d been pleading with him for several seconds that the voice was more than in her head. She was saying it, and God damn it all, did she mean it.
He didn’t oblige her, though. His hips moved slow and deep. When he finally did start to move faster, to give her more of what she wanted, Harper realized why he’d hesitated. Her mind blanked immediately. It hurt. He sped up only a little bit, but the feeling of his cock inside her was about to drive her nuts. It hurt so good. Her breaths came in low gasps. Harper forced herself to calm down. There was a lot more to come. His hips moved gently, rocking against hers.
Then he started moving faster again, and Harper’s attempts at holding herself together fell apart quickly. She wasn’t sure what made her cry out, whether it was the pain or the pleasure. But she knew one thing for certain, as his low groans rose to match her own.
She knew that she was losing her fucking mind, and that it was exactly what she’d oped for when this had started. She closed her eyes and moved automatically, his movements coming faster and faster. His rhythm lost itself entirely, and then they weren’t making love any more, or even fucking.
They were rutting like animals, and she knew it best when he finally pushed all the way inside her and came screaming his need. She lay on her back, panting, and closed her eyes. This was what she’d wanted. She just hadn’t known how bad.
Six
If someone wanted to use the Auction as a dating service, it would work exceedingly poorly, and it would be the exact opposite of the way that most services worked. Women, by and large, have their pick of men, in most of them. Men aren’t as picky, by and large. Which was exactly what Harper was counting on.
She’d always thought of her features as somewhat mannish and not very appealing. Some had described her as “striking,” but Harper knew at least enough to know when she was being talked down to. Her family had money, so it wasn’t exactly hard to figure out why someone would want to give her a compliment that she didn’t deserve. On the other hand, this was a different experience altogether.
It didn’t matter how much money she had. Nobody could take her money. She had no possessions but the clothes on her back, as far as the Auction was concerned. So there was no reason that anyone would go for her unless they had a use for her. Even if it weren’t sexual, she could do plenty of things.
She could cook, for example. Harper was a good cook. It was a point of pride, perhaps the only one that she really had. She swallowed hard and looked at the timer on the web page. It was ticking down until live bidding began.
A web site typically leads to different methods of bidding. Ebay seems to have a good idea of how to do it. Give people plenty of time to bid, and don’t tell everyone the exact dollar amount currently valued. It was a fool’s errand to do anything else.
The Auction worked on a different system. Every bid cost money. She guessed that it wasn’t too much, for the sort of bidding that was being done. There wasn’t a long history of sales listed, like there were on other auction sites, but Harper’s research had turned up a few success stories.
The whole hour of bidding would go by in a blur. Even for worse sellers, it went by quickly. The difference was whether or not the website could keep up with the bids updating, or if there would be times when she saw the price change by ten thousand dollars at a time.
The time continued ticking. Five minutes left. For sixty minutes, there would be bidding. Then at the end, whoever had the highest bid would go. How many people were interested in her? How many would be putting money down? A few dolla
rs here and there, all so that they could fail to make the cut. Only one would get her. A stranger, until he made the arrangements for the first of the year.
Harper’s teeth chattered. It was cold. She could turn on the heat any time. But somehow, the whole thing being in the cold made it all feel more dramatic, and she wanted it to be dramatic in spite of herself.
She let out a long, low breath, her teeth still chattering. One minute. She pulled the blanket around her tighter, but it did nothing to cut through the cold. She watched the numbers tick down, lower and lower. Forty-five seconds. Thirty. Twenty. Fifteen. Ten. Five.
She took a deep breath and wondered. What sort of person would be interested in her? Someone, she knew that. She wasn’t that bad looking, in spite of her masculine features. So there would be someone. She had an image in her head of the sort of person. Lonely, pathetic. Maybe a little overweight. Maybe a lot. There had to be something. Something weird, or someone who was afraid that even your average girl would refuse him.
Maybe she’d get some Phantom of the Opera type. She took a deep breath. The timer changed green, and then the number jumped higher. Fifty-nine minutes, fifty-nine seconds. Fifty-five. Fifty.
The sound of a bell ringing sounded as the first number in the bid slot appeared. There was a deposit of sorts. Whatever they bid, if it was less than forty-thousand dollars, then she was free and clear, the entire thing null and void. And of course, the Auction still made their money, so they didn’t have a single problem with that.
Ten thousand dollars. It was a low bid. Was that normal? She didn’t know. She’d been able to find three or four women who had done it. Most of them said they didn’t regret it. Most of them also said that they wouldn’t do it again if they had the chance. None of them went for below eighty thousand dollars. Was she going to be the odd woman out? Or did it always start low?
A second ring. Eleven thousand. Then twelve. There was no information on the buyers, except a screen-name. They appeared to be randomly generated, but she saw the same one appear over and over. They were all three-word combinations, and most of them were silly. Hence the computer generation, because no billionaire was going to call himself AffectionateBelatedAcorn. But a computer wouldn’t have any problem with it.