by Frankie Love
This is my life. And I can do with it what I want.
My parents thought it was progressive. My mom actually laughed at my plan. And not in an I’m laughing at you way. In an, I figured my Justine would do something like this kind of way.
But they were nervous for me.
Well, more than nervous. Worried is a more accurate description.
I guess I’ve always been what some might call passionate. I was the girl who chained herself to a tree in elementary school because someone complained it was blocking their view. I was the ten-year-old who went door to door in my Hollywood Hills neighborhood asking for signatures for my petition to Save the Whales. I was the teenager who went on a hunger strike until the housekeeper started buying organic, non-GMO dog food.
“Would you like another?” a man asks pointing to my wine. He sits beside me at the bar and I look up at him, seeing a man with a thick beard in a flannel shirt. He looks nothing like the men I’ve gotten glimpses of tonight in their dark suits.
“Uh, sure,” I manage, not having noticed that I finished that entire glass while lost in thought. “Thank you.”
The man has a hat tipped low, but our gaze meets and his ice-blue eyes pierce my heart. His eyes are so clear that it’s like drinking spring water when you look at him. Refreshing.
It’s the traditional Alaskan mountain man look that makes him so appealing. He is what he is—no pretense, no show. Nothing like the guys I’ve been around all my life in LA.
“So what are you doing here, alone?” he asks. When he leans in closer he smells like evergreen trees and salt water. He smells like fresh air and looks like he was born and raised in the wild. Maybe it’s his stature, he is tall and commanding, maybe it’s the way he orders our drinks without a single word. Maybe it’s the way he looks at me like he knows exactly what he’d do with me if he could.
“I have a thing later,” I tell him.
“A thing?” He smirks, and when he moves slightly, our elbows touch, and an electric surge passes between us.
I know he feels it, because he nearly growls. There is no question. He is rugged in a way that makes my core take notice.
In a way that makes me wish he weren’t here at the bar for a drink... that makes me wish he were at the auction.
“Mmmhmm. A thing.” I take a sip of the chardonnay, not wanting to say anymore. You know, like that I’m here to sell my body to the highest bidder.
“What brought you here?” I ask, hoping in some strange twist, he is here for the auction... but sure he isn’t, if he were he would be inside the convention center, not out here at the bar.
“Just checking on a few things.”
I raise my eyes, about to say more, but then a few older men in suits, carrying auction numbers, walk in the bar. The man next to me sees them enter and I watch as his shoulders tense, his eyes narrow. The men don’t pay us any attention at all.
“Motherfucker,” he says, under his breath.
“What is it?” I ask, resting my hand on the top of his.
He pulls back. “You’re set on going through with this?”
“With the... the…” I swallow. He knows who I am. Why I’m here.
“The auction,” he says firmly. “Can you be talked out of it? Look, my name’s Ryder, and I’m a good guy. I know Alaska. I can take you anywhere if you want out of this. All you have to do is say the word.”
I sputter, my mind reeling. “No. I mean, of course not. It’s a whole thing.” I think about all the people here for the event, the press, the charity.
“I would take you somewhere safe,” he adds. “If you came with me. Now.”
Still confused, I shake my head. “This is important to me. And how do you know who I—”—
He snorts. “Every man in Alaska knows who you are, Justine.”
“Well then you know why I am doing this.”
“It’s a mistake,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “Let me guess, and you know better? You know what a woman needs?”
His mouth is set in a firm line, and even though his lips look so damn kissable, he is coming off as self-righteous.
“I know what I am doing and why I’m doing it. I don’t need a man dictating what I can and can’t do.”
“Fine,” he says, raising his hands. “Then I hope you get what you want.”
He drops a fifty on the bar and pushes away without another word.
When he walks away I feel rattled, unnerved.
I’m doubting myself for the first time in this entire experience.
I don’t need doubt right now, and how dare that guy just show up like that and suggest I’d change my plans for him?
I leave the bar knowing I have an auction to attend.
Chapter 3
Justine
I’m not exactly easily swayed. I dig my heels in and believe in taking a stand.
“You ready, Justine?” Eileen asks. Eileen has been my family’s publicist since forever, and she’s been the most vocal about her reservations regarding this plan.
Cautious is a nice way of saying she thinks it’s a terrible idea.
“More ready than ever, “ I tell her, grinning. She may think this is crazy, but the last few guys I dated thought the fact I was a virgin at all was crazy. Too crazy for them at least. It totally scared them off.
I figure what better way to just get it over with.
“You aren’t nervous?” she asks.
I shake my head, adjust the black strapless dress that shows off all my assets and tousle my hair so I look ready to take to bed. I want this auction to raise a hell of a lot of money and I will flaunt what I’ve got in order to do that.
The lights shine on the stage. The auctioneer is readying up the crowd. It’s go time. My lady parts are waxed to perfection and my tatas are pushed up so high I could perform a titty-fuck that would impress a porn star. I should know, considering I’ve been on plenty of sets.
See, I may be a virgin, but I am not naïve. I’m a forward thinking, modern woman who’s selling her virginal pussy to the highest bidder.
The auctioneer, Ronnie Ramone, just finished showing a slideshow of endangered animals. It pumps me up, reminding me that this is all for a good cause.
Ronnie calls me onstage and I smile wide.
I’m gonna walk out there and the bidding will begin.
And then, after someone wins, I’m going to return backstage to grab my overnight bag and get into a waiting limo, and head to the hotel I booked for this very occasion.
Eileen said booking our own hotel was a prerequisite for this risqué endeavor. Some men could be complete psychopaths. They could try to video the thing by mounting cameras around a bedroom. Which they would use to record themselves mounting me. Not gonna happen. If I wanted to make an adult video I’d ask my mom for a camera crew.
“And now let’s welcome the guest of honor,” Ronnie calls. “Justine is the generous woman who will be selling one night of pleasure to the highest bidder.”
Everyone who’s come to this event had to produce a clean STD test signed by a doctor. And those tests had to be submitted a week ago so we could confirm their validity. Everyone here has a clean bill of health and knows the rules for the auction winner.
1) No releasing statements on my performance unless vetted through my publicist.
2) There will be one instance of vaginal penetration unless I request more.
3) No anal. Like, at all.
One step at a time. And right now, my next step is to walk on stage. The room’s in an uproar; people stand and clap—men mostly. There are cameras everywhere to document each and every bid.
As I walk on stage, I smile, push my shoulders back and wave to the audience. It’s a relief to see men of all ages in suits and ties, enjoying this extravagant evening for what is.
The tickets to come to the dinner and auction were $5,000 a head and we sold four-hundred-eighty-three seats. I want everyone to pay one way or another, considering only one ma
n will leave with the prize.
Everyone here has been fed and given plenty of cocktails. Not that I want to think that I need to liquor them up to bid on me, but the bids might rise higher, faster if they’ve had several whiskey sours.
“And now let the bidding war will begin,” Ronnie announces with a flourish. “Do I have $10,000?”
A number is raised in the air, a man in his mid-40s, clean-cut, albeit a little overweight.
I smile. See, this isn’t gonna be terrible. This is an adventure. I’m in the Alaska wild after all, I can be a little wild too.
I clap, thanking him for his bid.
He isn’t exactly built like that rugged man in the bar... but hopefully he’s also less self-satisfied than that man with those clear blue eyes.
I bite my bottom lip. That man may have been pious... but he was also so incredibly sexy.
But as Ronnie continues upping the bids, it becomes hard for me to keep track of every card that’s raised and the man that goes with it. This isn’t about the mens’ appearances anyway. It’s about charity.
And the bids rise quickly. I watch in awe as they move from 40,000, to 80,000, to 100,000... I’m beaming now. Okay, this is going to be totally worth it.
“Do I have a bid for $150,000?”
In the far back, someone ups the bid substantially.
“$500,000,” a man with a smug grin declares. He’s older than most of the other bidders, I’d guess early 60s. But that doesn’t matter. What’s in his pants is all that matters.
And I’m talking about his wallet.
The money raised for HAHA is the only thing that I care about right now.
“$750,000,” the opening bidder declares, causing the room to gasp.
The older gentleman places his card in the air smugly.
“One million.”
The two men face off, both clearly ready to go all in. My eyes lock with Ronnie, and I nod, wanting him to keep this war going, wanting to get the highest possible price for my virginity.
“One point five million,” my overweight bidder announces.
“Two.”
“Two point five.” But I see the opening bidder twisting his lips, struggling with the number.
The older man, however, has no qualms with raising his card in triumph.
“Five million dollars.” The room erupts in shock and awe. I cover my mouth, stunned.
I guess there is worth in being a virgin after all.
The two men nod knowingly and the younger man waves at me, bowing out.
“I have five million dollars for one night of pleasure with Justine Van De Shire and her virginity,” Ronnie announces. “Going once, going twice, and sold to bidder number eighty-four.”
The older man shakes hands with men around him, but his eyes aren’t on the people at his table. No, his eyes are only on me.
Ronnie thanks everyone for the lively auction, and I’m escorted offstage.
That’s when I realize I’m trembling. Full on shaking.
I’m going to have sex tonight. With a man who is actually older than my father.
I know that is what I am doing. What I chose to do.
That’s the point of all this.
And it’s just sex.
Just one night.
Still, it didn’t feel real before now.
Now? Now it is really happening.
EXPOSÉ
The Gossip Column You Can Sink Your Teeth Into
IS HER PUSSY A UNICORN? By Trista Piper
The auctioning of Justine Van De Shire’s virginity was the event of the year... if you’re in the market for untapped lady-bits.
And apparently fifty-five year old millionaire, Luther Morris, is. Wearing a cocky smile and a three-piece Armani suit, he raised his bidding paddle and donated five million dollars to Humans Against Harming Animals in exchange for one night with Justine.
Justine Van De Shire wore a stunning black strapless dress, hugging her curves impeccably. With shiny dark hair and a red-lipped smile, she seemed poised throughout the auction, but we want to know what’s going to happen when this virgin drops her panties and spreads her legs... because for five million dollars, we here at EXPOSÉ, are guessing her pussy must be pretty magical!
We don’t know anything about Luther Morris yet, but tonight we’re going to be digging up any dirt we can find... not as exciting as unicorn sex but hopefully just as juicy!
Chapter 4
Justine
“You did great.” Eileen says as she leads me toward the dressing room where I have my luggage stowed. I’ll grab it and head to the limo waiting for me. My bidder will meet me at the hotel.
“I can’t believe I raised five million dollars. I was hoping for one. But five?” I shake my head, incredulous at the sum. “I know so many people think this is trashy, but think of the land we are protecting, the animals we’re saving.” I wrap my arms around Eileen. “Thank you for everything you did to make this a success.”
“I had nothing to do with this,” Eileen says.
I shake my head. “Eileen, you have a lot to do with this. No way could I have organized this without you.”
Eileen never takes a compliment; instead, she changes the subject, waving her phone at me. “Your father and mother have been calling me nonstop wanting an update. I have to let them know how this all went.”
I nod, understanding. My parents, obviously, didn’t fly up to see their only daughter get auctioned off.
My parents taught me at an early age that not everyone in the world needs to agree with your choices. At the end of the day, you only have to live with yourself. My parents have gotten a lot of flack over the years for the business they’ve built.
But they’ve done their work with integrity and pride. They’ve treated employees well and given lots of people jobs with fair pay and benefits.
“Okay,” I say. “Tell them I’m fine and to please not call me until tomorrow. I just can’t really talk about my deflowering with my mom and dad.”
“I understand,” Eileen says laughing. She’s worked with our family for the last fifteen years and knows our dynamics all too well.
We may be a close family who can frankly discuss sex, but some things are a little too close for comfort.
“I’m just going to grab my things. Is the car here?” I ask.
“It is, and just so you know, the winning bidder, Luther Morris, is a distinguished gentleman based in Anchorage. He’s an unmarried multimillionaire.”
“Good, I definitely don’t want to start any marital problems with this stunt.”
Eileen nods, knowing that was one of my big concerns about this.
“All right then, good luck,” she tells me.
I nod and start to walk away but then I turn and call back to her, not ready to say goodbye.
“Eileen, maybe this is weird, but do but you have any advice? For tonight?”
No matter how seriously I’ve taken this endeavor, I’m realizing I’m actually a little nervous. Now the auction is over and the only thing left to do is the deed.
“My biggest suggestion is to relax,” Eileen says, squeezing my arm. “And trust yourself. Let go and remember why you doing this. Remember the mission statement you wrote when you first contacted HAHA about doing this?”
“I remember. But saying something and actually doing it are two different things. Truth is, I’m nervous.”
“That makes sense, Justine, but just remember, when you wake up tomorrow not much will have changed. You’re worth a hell of a lot more than your virginity.”
I pull Eileen into a hug. The Van De Shires aren’t exactly touchy-feely people, but this moment is so uncharted that I don’t think there are any rules anymore.
“The limo is here, just out the back. Would you like me to take you?” she asks. Her phone starts ringing again though and so I tell her no, that I’ll be fine on my own.
After saying goodbye, I take a deep breath and grab my garment bag and my suitcase from my
dressing room.
I leave through the back entrance, and when I push the doors open, I see a sleek black limousine waiting for me. It’s started raining, which I wasn’t expecting. It’s coming down pretty hard and I step under the building awning to stay dry.
A man steps out, wearing a rain coat and he opens an umbrella, offering it to me. I can’t see his face from under the umbrella, but his hands are big, and my eyes widen, watching the muscles in his forearms flex as he takes my bag.
The rain starts pelting down, and he carries my luggage, placing it in the trunk with the hood of his coat zippered up and covering most of his face. Between the rain and dark night, I can’t get a good look at him. Not that I want to, right now I just want to stay dry.
He opens the door and I slide inside, grateful to avoid getting drenched. I’m not exactly a girly-girl, but looking pretty tonight still matters to me. And if my thick hair gets soaked I will look like a drowned rat pretty fast.
“You in okay?” he asks before shutting my door. His voice is gruff and when I look up at him, I see that his beard is thick and sexy as hell.
He slams the car door shut, and moves around to the driers seat as my mind starts working. I know him. He is the guy from the bar.
He must have been there because he had this job later. A job that it sounds like he was willing to risk to take me away from the auction had I been willing.
When he gets in the front seat, I try to make eye contact in the rear-view mirror.
“You’re the guy from the bar, right?”
“Right,” he says, his eyes flickering to mine before looking back at the road, where rain falls heavy, the windshield wipers moving in over drive.
He looks like he was made of the Earth, like he is dug up from this land.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little bit of a pitter-patter while watching his swift movements. But there is no room for quivering lady bits and heart fluttering at the moment.
I’m about to have sex with a stranger and that’s plenty to be thinking about.
