Winning Bid: A Virgin Auction Romance

by Virginia Sexton

  “Breathe through your nose, baby,” I say. “You’re doing great.”

  “Okay.” She starts again, more aggressively now, and I groan blissfully. She remembers to start bobbing her head, taking in more of my shaft, and also uses her hands to take in what she can’t fit into her mouth.

  “Good,” I say. “Just like that.”

  Encouraged, she works faster, grunting happily. Her tongue doesn’t stop moving, and every sound she makes turns me on even more. There is one thing left, though, that she’s not doing.

  “Wendy, look up at me.”

  She lifts her gaze to meet mine, and when she does, I twitch with renewed need. I love seeing the look in her eyes: erotic and angelic at the same time. In her expression I see pleasure, though the kind one gets from giving rather than receiving, as well as the thrill of discovery and exploration. Did she know she would enjoy oral sex as much as she is? Probably not. She likely didn’t realize it could be so intimate, as well as intense.

  “That’s great,” I say, my voice throaty. “Yeah, keep going, baby. I’m almost there.” She’s so wrapped up in the experience she hasn’t realized how hard she’s been going at it. By now she’s opened up wide enough to take my cock deep in her mouth, probably more than she thought she could. Every time she catches my stare, I feel my heart skip a beat.

  “Oh, I’m coming,” I say with a groan. Then I feel it, the quick spurt of my seed. Wendy moans, but she doesn’t stop. Surprised, I hold her head in my hands, keeping her on my cock until I’ve given my load. I can feel her tongue licking me clean, and she moans happily when I let go. I come away clean, and she looks at me before she swallows.

  “That was incredible,” I say, finding myself temporarily a little short of breath. “You were amazing, Wendy.”

  “Thanks,” she says as she takes my hand. I pull her to her feet while I yank up my boxers, then bring her in for another hug. “I really enjoyed that,” she adds.

  “It showed.”

  She squeezes me tight and says, “I want you to win the auction, Cash.”

  I kiss her forehead. “So do I.” Happiness glows inside me, but it isn’t pure: there’s a sliver of fear breaking through. “But I might not. Orson…”

  “Listen to me,” she says. “I’ll do whatever I can to make this work. I’ll tell Orson that you and I are finished. I can say you’ve agreed to bid way more than you really will, or find out what he’s planning to bid. Whatever you think will work.”

  Just like that, the undercurrent of fear dissipates, though it’s replaced with another: I think I love this woman. I think I do, and the idea of losing her — either in this auction or otherwise — grips me like an icy hand around my spine.

  “I don’t want you going anywhere near that son of a bitch,” I say.

  She nods. “I’d rather not either, but if it’ll help you win, I’ll do it.”

  “Okay,” I say, fighting to keep my voice from shaking. I hate myself for what I’m about to do, but I have to lie. The truth right now would kill her, because I know it’s killing me. So I lie. I tell her, “I know what to do.”

  I don’t get home until the next morning. I’m wearing the same dress I had on last night, and my hair is a mess. I get amused looks on the subway and in the street, and I realize this must be what they mean by “walk of shame.” It’s funny — I don’t feel ashamed at all. I feel amazing, happier than I’ve ever been.

  When I get in, already nearly noon, Radha is sleeping on the couch, the TV on. Hearing the door she shoots up mid-snore.

  “Were you waiting up for me?” I ask.

  “No…” She squeezes her eyes shut and shields them from the light streaming in through the window. “Yeah, I was.” She flips on her phone and sees the time. “Wait, you never came home!”

  I shake my head, enjoying the shock on Radha’s face.

  “You were with Cash?”

  “Yeah.”

  She looks down at my dress and heels. “Wait, did you… Holy crap, did you sleep with him?”

  I’d love to take a photo of her right now, looking like I just told her I’m a 1,000-year-old Martian warlock. “We didn’t go all the way,” I say at last.

  She nods and licks her lips. “But you two… did some… things?”

  “Yeah, there were… we did… have a good time,” I say, beaming with pride.

  Radha laughs. “Look at you. From nun to slut in a night.”

  I snort, laughing too. “Thanks, Radha. I wouldn’t go that far. I still have my… eligibility… for the auction.”

  Radha rolls her eyes, the humor evaporating from her expression. “Shit. I thought you’d be out. Is that why you didn’t go all the way?”

  I nod. “I would have. I wanted to. Cash stopped us, so that I can still get the money from the auction.”

  “Are you serious?” Radha mutters. “He’s so keen to give you millions of dollars? That doesn’t strike you as a little weird?”

  I shake my head, getting a little annoyed. “It’s not about the money. He wants me, and I want him too. And I’d like to help him beat Orson.” I explain to her about Erin, Cash’s ex-fiance, and how Orson tossed her aside. “He’s a revolting man, and I want to see him lose just as much as Cash does.”

  Radha nods patiently, though I can tell she’s not convinced. “Orson’s a scumbag, I get it — but what if he wins? He’s just going to bid a bazillion dollars, isn’t he? And then you have to sleep with him, instead. How can you stop him?”

  I flash a conspiratorial grin. “Cash has a plan. We’re going to play Orson Bishop for a fool, make him think he’s going to win. It’s going to be perfect.”

  “Great,” murmurs Radha. “I’m really glad.”

  “No, you’re not,” I sigh. “Why not?”

  She stares at me in disbelief for a minute before answering. “Why not? Because I’ve been against this from the beginning! Because you shouldn’t feel you have to sell yourself just to get ahead in life! Wendy, you’re a smart person and a hard worker — you’re going to succeed. You don’t need to do this.”

  I turn my back to her so I can say what I have to say; I don’t want to see her when I do. “Maybe I don’t want to work hard for once. Maybe I’d just like to be a millionaire and not worry about working for a very long time.”

  I feel Radha’s hands on my shoulders as I gaze down at my feet. “I get it,” she says. “I do. But you’re making yourself crazy, and I don’t know that you’re ready for what might happen. I know if Orson wins, you will want the money, but how will Cash feel?”

  Oh, God.

  “Devastated.”

  Radha nods. “Could you do that to him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She lets go of me. “Better figure it out, Wendy.” Her face suddenly gets hard, like she’s about to try and yank off a hangnail. “Because if you don’t make a decision before the auction, I’m calling off the trip to Europe.”

  “What?” I scream. “Why?”

  “Because I won’t enjoy being there with you if we’re both angry about this auction thing the whole time. You shouldn’t be doing this to yourself, Wendy, and the trip is the whole reason you got involved in the first place.”

  “That’s not fair!” I shout, tears already streaming down my cheeks.

  “Oh, it’s not? And how about seeing my best friend willing to sleep with a fucking creep rather than just letting me pay for the trip? How do you think that makes me feel?”

  “This isn’t about you!”

  Radha shakes her head. “I can’t do it, Wendy, I’m sorry.” She grabs her purse and heads for the door, putting on a pair of sandals. “I have to go. One day, you’re going to see that there’s a million good reasons to have sex with somebody, but this has gotten out of control.”

  “Hey, you can’t just leave like this!” I snarl, trying to get in the way of the door, but Radha’s already there.

  “Bye, Wendy. See you later.”

  She doesn’t stop to keep the d
oor from slamming on her way out, and she doesn’t come back until late that night. I only hear her because I’m still awake and crying.

  —

  The next several days go by in a stupor of anger and desperation. I try to study, but I can’t concentrate. When I’m not miserable about Radha, I’m paralyzed with need, Cash running through my mind until I have to relieve the pressure myself.

  For days, Radha refuses to speak to me, staying in her room except when she has to make her meals. Whenever I try knocking on her door to talk, the music in her room gets louder, and I eventually take the hint.

  To make matters worse, my attempts to get in touch with Orson Bishop are also met with silence. The days leading up to the auction keep going by, and I haven’t been able to suss out his plan. Cash tells me there’s nothing I can do about it but wait and see.

  “Can’t you talk to Orson?” I ask Cash one day.

  “If we’re both trying to get in touch, he’ll know we’re still together,” he replies, shaking his head. “It has to be you.”

  “Okay,” I say. “Will I see you on Friday before the auction?”

  “Sorry, I can’t. I’ve got a business meeting; it just came up. But I’ll see you that night, okay? No matter what happens, we’ll work it out.”

  The day of the auction, I wake up to voices in the apartment I don’t recognize. Getting out of bed I see Radha is fully dressed and speaking with a middle-aged woman I’ve never met.

  “The kitchen is really nice,” Radha says to the woman. “We’ve been on a very thorough cleaning program, so you shouldn’t have any problems there.”

  “What the fuck, Radha?” I ask, now fully awake.

  “Sorry,” says the woman. “She’s just showing me around. I won’t be here long.”

  “‘Showing her around?’ What’s going on?”

  Radha shuffles up to me and whispers in my ear. “I think it might be time to get my own place. Nothing’s decided yet-”

  “I don’t believe this,” I say, stunned. “Just like that?”

  “No,” Radha says, drawing out the word. “I said it’s not decided-”

  My phone rings an alert, and we both know what it is: a message from The Virgin Exchange.

  Radha rolls her eyes. “You better get that. It could be… you know… important.”

  “We’re not finished here,” I say, too angry to be heartbroken.

  I open the app to find a new message:

  If you’d like to meet to discuss the auction, I’ll be at the Dorchester Tavern, Columbus and 70th until two. — Orson

  With a wicked grin, I turn to Radha. “This is going to work,” I tell her. “You’ll see.”

  —

  I practically fly through the city, taking the first cab I can find and promising a twenty dollar tip if he can get me across town in less than ten minutes. On a Friday afternoon, that requires a bit of maneuvering that makes me thankful I haven’t eaten yet today. He gets me there at just about one, and I find the tavern quickly.

  The place doesn’t look open — inside the windows, I see nothing but darkness — but the heavy, wooden door isn’t locked. The interior is very dark and chairs are resting upside down on the tables, but there are a few people sitting at the bar, including Orson.

  Dressed in simple slacks and a white button down shirt, he sips from a pint of very dark beer. He doesn’t notice me at first, so I take a second to watch him. I expected, in a candid moment, to see some kind of expression — boredom, anticipation, excitement — but I get nothing. He reads from a newspaper while drinking as if it’s part of his typical daily routine. I don’t know, maybe it is.

  Finally, I take a seat next to him.

  “Hello, Ms. Hart,” he says, not looking up from his paper. “You’ve been messaging me all week. What is it?”

  The lines I’ve practiced run through my head, and I try to keep my voice steady and natural. “I want to know what your plan is for tonight.”

  The man laughs, surprised by my boldness. “Oh? Why should I tell you?”

  Here goes.

  “Because I’m sick of this rivalry between you and Cash. I’ve had enough of it. I just want to get paid tonight and then never see either of you ever again.”

  Orson nods pensively, finishing off his beer. “Interesting, but it doesn’t answer my question. I promise you’ll get paid, Ms. Hart. Why do you need to know more than that?”

  I take a deep breath, trying to look impatient. “How much are you talking, Bishop? I want at least ten million.”

  Orson snorts. “Cassius hasn’t offered you that much? Word is, you’re as hot in the loins for him as he is for you.”

  “Not since The Gala, when I saw what immature children the two of you can be. He’s offered me one million; any more than that, and he’s says I’m not worth it.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Cassius,” Orson says, his expression darkening.

  I shrug. “Maybe I’m not the only one getting tired of this rivalry. It sounds pretty expensive.”

  Orson sighs and flips to the center of his newspaper, where I see something has been inserted. He pulls it out and sets it on the bar in front of me. With a hollowness forming in my chest, I see it’s a stack of full-size photographs. On the first one, I see myself and Cash getting out of a limo in front of his building. The next depicts us heading inside, holding hands. Finally, there’s a third image of us leaving, our clothes and hair disheveled after that wonderful night together.

  “Remind Cassius that I have spies, too,” says Orson. “This was after The Gala, Ms. Hart. I’m aware of the fact that you and Mr. Swain are an item, and that he aims to win. I’m not going to be suckered into bidding low so you and Cassius can have your cake and eat it too. I’m going to place a bid he won’t bring himself to match, and you will eventually decide that you would be an idiot not to take it.”

  Fuming in rage, a pair of tears slip from my eyes. Damnit, Cash. I thought you knew what you were doing. What’s worse, is that I’m not sure Orson is wrong — if he’s talking about as much money as he’s intimating, how can I turn it down?

  “I’m really going to enjoy beating Cassius this time,” says Orson, folding up the newspaper and leaving it on the bar. “I’d ask you to say hello before The Auction, but I know you won’t see him. I’ve had one of my company’s subsidiaries make a new proposal to Swain’s company, so I know he’ll be in meetings right up until tonight. I wonder if he’s figured it out yet.”

  “I’ll call him,” I say, my voice hoarse.

  “Try it. You won’t get through, not until tonight, anyway.” He gets up, patting me on the shoulder. “See you then, Ms. Hart.”

  An electric buzz hums through the crowd as I arrive at The Auction. After a day of pointless negotiations that didn’t go anywhere, fatigue has crept into me, but the thought of the night ahead instills in me a second wind.

  Entering the venue, I see a massive crowd; most aren’t even there to bid, they just want to see how the auction ends. The fate of Wendy Hart, and the expectation of a record-setting bid, has clearly captured the popular interest at The Virgin Exchange. Seeing a program for the event, I don’t fail to notice that Wendy will be the last exchange of the night.

  Sounds about right.

  They’re in for quite a show.

  Scanning the audience, I easily spot Orson, since he stands a head taller than most people. He’s surrounded by sycophants, who hang on his every word like he’s some kind of public intellectual. What a joke.

  On the other side of the room I spot Wendy, so I make for her right away. I can feel eyes on me — people are noticing that I’ve arrived and where I’m headed.

  During the work meeting, how Wendy would look tonight was all I could think about. Seeing her now, I feel a crush in my lungs and can hardly breathe. Yes, she looks beautiful in the turquoise jeweled mermaid dress I sent to her apartment, but she looks distressed, rather than radiant. Like something she’s eaten is seconds from coming back up. Someth
ing is wrong.

  “Cash,” she says when I reach her. “It didn’t work.”

  “What happened?” I say, trying to appear calm, but inside my blood boils.

  “Orson knows we’re together. His bid… it’s going to be too much.”

  Seeing Wendy on the verge of tears — her makeup smudged as if she’s already shed a few — the last thing on my mind is money. “I’ll bid more,” I say, trying to instill certainty.”

  She shakes her head. “It’s not just that. Radha… she doesn’t want to go on the trip anymore. She’s even threatening to move out. If I go through with this, our friendship is over.”

  “It’ll be fine,” I say, still not sure who’s in greater need of reassurance — her or me.

  “How do you know?” Wendy snaps. “What if Orson is prepared to throw a billion dollars my way? Are you prepared for that?”

  That’s a pretty good question. Orson’s got enough billions that he could throw one away and survive the financial hit. He’d notice the loss of such a large chunk of his fortune, and the publicity would make him out to be a creep of legendary proportion, but he’d come through it. What matters most is that he’d win.

  “He’s not going to do that.” The thought had crossed my mind that he might play up the nature of his bid just to get me to blow a huge percentage of my fortune, then play off the loss as a tactical business move. But he won’t — that’s not his way.

  “He might,” she says, her voice finally breaking. She turns around, facing the corner of the room, but I can see her shoulders quaking. “I never should have gotten involved in this,” she says. “Radha was right.”

  I take her bared shoulders in my hands. “Please believe me, Wendy. Orson’s not going to win tonight. He’s very confident, but he’s going to go home tonight alone and wondering what happened.”

  Wendy breaks from my grip and spins around, sticking a finger in my face and baring her teeth. “Shut up, Cash. Just shut up. I don’t want to hear one word about you and Orson! I should have listened to Radha. She knew from the beginning that this was all just a game to the two of you. I swore you were different, but what was I thinking?”