The President and the Starlet: A Forbidden Romance
Page 60
And the announcer’s voice came on once again.
“As promised, we will be inspecting the virgin’s hymen. Article Twenty-One, hold yourself open, please.” Again, I was astounded by her tone of voice. She could have been saying, “Can I offer you a napkin?” her voice was so mild despite the illicit words, despite the fact she was literally telling another woman to part her pussy for a dozen men to see.
But what choice did I have? If I refused, it would just be back to the handlers, they’d probably part my cheeks like I was a cow to be inseminated and the whole scenario made me cringe, heart curdling. So I did as commanded. Stroking my hands up and down my calves, I caressed them sensuously, making sure the man’s eyes were locked on my body. Then I ran my palms up over my thick thighs, squeezing them, the luscious ham hocks heavy and firm, before running each of my small hands up to my ass, caressing the pale peachy orbs, even lifting my hips and bumping up and down a bit so that my cheeks jiggled and wiggled entrancingly.
But the main course was coming. With a butt cheek in each hand, I slowly pulled them apart, my steaming slit coming into view, the beautiful pinkness that belonged to me alone. And oh fuck, while I was doing it, I went all the way. I leaned over more, making sure my ass was high in the air, and showed them my taboo hole then. Oh yeah, my gorgeous brown pucker winked and flashed under the spotlight, flirting with the buyers, a perfect counterpoint to the pink wetness that dripped below, my swollen labia engorged and pulsing with desire.
But the men couldn’t see the evidence of my virginity just yet, so the female voice came on again.
“Article Twenty-One, please hold your labia open. Cameras,” she directed. “Prepare to zoom.”
And I gasped, head still between my knees. Oh my god, they wanted to look up into my channel, deep into the hot pink for a glimpse of my hymen? To see that part of me that was still intact, where no man had touched? And they were going to zoom in, let everyone see up close and personal? Oh my god, oh my god.
But the naughtiness titillated me because it was so dirty and sensuous at once. I’d played with myself a few times, always stopping when I reached the barrier, the spongy tissue that proved I was untouched, untaken. And so taking a deep breath, I let go of my orbs and let my small hands creep between my thighs, slowly caressing my plush pussy lips, letting them watch as I massaged my cunt. Mmm, it felt good, my nub was tingling, my clit so big and stiff that I was sure they could see it, all two inches poking out, waving in the air.
And for emphasis, I gave it a stiff pinch, making myself gasp, cunt gushing wetly at the illicit touch. Oh god, what would it be like to feel a man’s hand there, feel a pair of strong, masculine fingers running through my soft folds? I pretended it was the dark man in the booth touching me, making me come with need. How his hands would slip knowingly between my thighs, probing my small hole, touching where no one had touched before, prepping me for his cock.
And moaning, I closed my eyes, preparing for the grand finale. Because with a slow moan, I did it. Small fingers pushed my labia to each side so that I was holding myself open, so that each man could see right up my cunt, glimpse the hot pink walls, drenched and steaming, the female juice that coated my privates. And oh fuck, oh fuck, but I knew what the camera was doing at that very moment. It was zooming in on my ass, on my pussy, going in for the deep dive. I stood stock still, feeling the caress of a dozen pairs of eyes, feeling the electronic lens home in on the part of me that proved my virginity, that showed I was untouched, ready for my first man. Because yes, my hymen was there for these men to see, for these men to taste, lick, touch, and finally penetrate if they bought me.
And at that moment, I glanced through my legs and met the eyes of the dark man. He was staring at me hard, gaze fixed on my pussy before jerking to a monitor in front of him and I realized that each booth must have been equipped with its own flatscreen so that the user could view me from multiple angles, up, down, below, and now inside. He stared, transfixed, as the camera sharpened and focused and suddenly the lights of every single booth flashed brightly. They must have caught my hymen on screen, the men must have seen my virginity, the proof that I was untouched.
And the bidding flew into a frenzy then.
“I hear one hundred thousand,” chimed the woman’s voice. “Is there anyone for two?”
I gasped. One hundred thousand? The redhead had gone for fifty and already my bidding was at one hundred? How was I double her price? But I guess that was the going price for virgins and flushing hotly, I bit my lip, getting ready to stand. But the woman’s voice rang out again.
“Touch yourself,” she commanded. “Article Twenty-One, touch yourself as bidders place their bets.”
And oh god, it was wrong, but what choice did I have? So moaning softly, I complied. One hand held my pussy lips open so that the men could see right up my cunt, my other hand kneading my clit. Oh god, it felt so good, it was so dirty and humiliating and yet sensations coursed through me so hard that I couldn’t process it. I could faintly make out the sound of bidding as I stroked my clit, running my fingers through my slippery folds, even touching my hole a bit, sliding a digit an inch between my plush lips, testing the untouched slit.
And oh god, but the dark man. My eyes flipped open for a second to meet his, and he was staring hard again, devouring my body with his eyes, blue gaze so scorching that I was pushed over the edge. He was so commanding, so alpha, so dominant that without any words, in public before a dozen filthy rich men, the big man made me come. I screamed aloud, my hand like a motor between my legs now, pussy giving it up as it clenched and spasmed, gushes of juices coming from my hole. It felt so good, electric shocks running from my cunt to my fingers and toes, making everything go soft and gelatin-like before the next spasm caught me, my pussy clamping down hard again in ecstasy before opening, letting out another gush of female cream.
And I couldn’t help it. Our eyes never breaking contact, I frigged myself through the entire session, masturbating just for him, touching myself again and again, pretending it was him stroking me. His eyes ate me up, absolutely devoured me, caressing every inch of my body as if it were his already. And just as the tremors began to subside, as I began to calm, taking a big breath, the female voice came on again.
“Sold to the highest bidder! The Girl in Gold has been sold for two million dollars, closing immediately.”
I gasped, still nude, barely able to stand now. There were smears of cream on my thighs, evidence of my lust, and the two handlers stepped forward, each seizing one of my arms, making sure I’d make it. Slowly, they helped me off the dais and I walked with wobbly steps to the doorway in the wall, turning my head back once to shoot the dark man a beseeching look.
He looked right back at me, a half-smile playing on his lips, nodding discreetly as the handlers dragged me into a hallway. What did that mean? Had he bought me? What was coming next? All I knew was that I should have been ashamed, should have been humiliated given that I’d literally just been sold, but instead, all I could feel was the hot flush of my body, the tingles that still coursed through my cunt. Who was that man? Who was the man with the dark hair and blue eyes? I had to know and prayed desperately that he was my buyer.
TO BE CONTINUED …
Sold at the Auction is now LIVE on Amazon, download it HERE to continue reading now!
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ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Cassandra Dee is a bestselling author of dozens of hot and steamy contemporary romances. She started out writing erotica but transitioned to romance after falling for one too many book boyfriends.
Cassandra started reading romance back in third grade, when she did a book report on a tween love story called Cassie. Of course, she had no idea what she was reading back then, but it was fun. And in tribute, she selected this pen name with many affectionate memories.
When she’s not tapping away furiously at her laptop, Cassandra can be found drinking gallons of coffee and watching lots of reality TV. She also enjoys taking the neighbor’s dog for walks, aimlessly wandering the local grocery store, and of course, reading too much about the lives of her favorite celebrities.
Cassandra is living her own HEA with her husband and a beautiful baby boy.
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Kendall is an avid romance reader and writer. She’s been devouring romance since her teenage years and is looking forward to sharing more of the naughty stories in her head.
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