2010 -- 2.2 (Spring) Fiction

Auction

by P. J. German

She danced like the sun bounced off the waves of an ocean. I could not believe my eyes when I saw her. Sure, I was in a strip club and her being naked made her look all the more attractive, but her moves grabbed my attention. She was good looking, but not the best in the joint. She had a nice rack, but the not the best. Her ass was tight and bubbly, but not the tightest or bubbliest – maybe the bubbliest. You get the picture. I really was focused on her dancing. The way she moved got to me, so I threw her some money, letting her know I was interested in her.

So did the guy across the walk from me. She turned around bending over in front of me, moving me in a way I wasn’t moved until now. I threw more money down and suddenly I found myself in an auction with the guy.

This girl seemed to love being auctioned over. Every time she bent over to retrieve my money, she would stare into my eyes. Her ice blue eyes drew me in long after she had turned to retrieve money from my opponent. At that point, I found myself moving from her eyes as she turned, down her neck, across her chest, to her – by the far the sexiest in the joint – belly button, to her thin pussy, to her ass as she turned around, and finally back to her pussy as she bent over. She moved slowly, so slow I could tell she was encouraging my behavior, and at the same time, saying, ‘Tsk, tsk, tsk… You naughty boy.’ It was he who laid the last bill down – out bidding me. He was ugly. She knew it. I was not. She turned to me and began to focus her dancing on me. She wanted more money, but I knew I had her hooked on me, and she knew she had me.

When the song had finished, she walked down the steps from the stage, over to my seat and asked if I wanted a dance. I slipped her a twenty and began to dance over me. As she danced, she proceeded to climb on my chair, reach down the side of it and pulled the lever, forcing me into a reclining position while she continued to move smoothly like waves. I glanced over to my opponent who I had humiliated moments before in a way only Al Gore could understand, and his glare caught my attention. His eyes were narrowed, his brow furrowed. I could only imagine the things he envisioned inside his head…

A punch in my gut… a right hook across my temple. Thrusting a hard knee into my nuts, then a heavy uppercut on my nose as I bent over, writhing in pain. Maybe pull a knife out and scare me, or better yet, stab me for extra fun… a gun might work. A blow torch would do the trick really. Press the trigger and watch me light up and burn… start running around in pain like a beheaded chicken. Beheaded? A machete through the neck… a grenade down the throat… Chinese torture tactics…

Quickly, though, my attention was brought back to the girl as she began to run her body against mine, something they are not supposed to do at this joint. I whispered in her ear how much I enjoyed her, and she whispered back how much she wanted me. That’s when she sat on my leg and slid herself up me. From the heat emanating from her onto my leg, I knew she was telling me the truth.

When the song stopped, she whispered in my ear to meet her out back in five minutes when she was scheduled to clock out. As she walked away, I could not help but check her out some more, then glance at my leg – my pants a little damp from where she was – and back to the loser.

He was gone.

Probably embarrassed.

I got up, not caring about what I was advertising, and retreated to the bathroom. I stood before the mirror, washed my face, and imagined what was about to happen in the backseat of my car. Just as I was about to leave the bathroom, a loud, piercing siren echoed through the room as the sprinklers overhead turned on and soaked me. I ran out and saw dozens of people panicking despite there was no sign of fire. The enemy was pushing his way through the crowd. I would like to say I was truly being a hero when I held the door open for everyone; but in all honesty, I only wanted to make sure the girl was safe.

She never came out.

Just as I was about to go look for her, I was pulled out of the building by the manager. I ran to the back of the building to see if she was there.

I couldn’t find her.

There was a car steamed up, rocking.

I knew what was going on inside the car, and it turned me on. It made me think of what I wanted to do with the girl. I wanted a teaser before I met her, something to warm me up some more after the dance. I approached it. The excitement of watching live porn built up inside of me as I approached the car. I touched the back of the car, dragged my finger along the side and stopped in front of the window. I ran my finger up the door, then down the foggy window. I placed my other hand under the handle and left it there. When my finger reached half way down the window, a hand from inside slammed against the window leaving a clean streak in the steam as we slid down the window together. For some reason, I felt like I knew that hand – as though that hand has touched me before. I knelt down in the gravel parking lot, leaned against the window, and peered inside the dark vehicle. The top of two heads looked back at me. I traced the hand that ran with mine down the window to the owner. Just as I found the sweaty chest, her head tilted back as she let out a soft and pleasurable moan. Our eyes met, and I was locked. It was the girl’s. We looked at our hands – still pressed against the glass. When I looked back to her eyes, I noticed the guy she was with leaned up a little. I looked at his face, and staring at the girl – and somehow, tauntingly at me – was my opponent.

PJ German – former editor in chief for two semesters and current student advisor of Elektraphrog, president of Swamp Scribes, student blogger for the SCF website, and teacher aid in the English lab – does much more writing than he has time for. He is graduating in 2010 with his A.A., and will attend USF in the fall to continue his education in English.