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me here to Marysvale College, a private university, they were paying my tuition. That is, until they found out that I recently attended one little frat party that got out of hand. I wasn’t even misbehaving, though. I’m underage, so I didn’t have a single drop of alcohol. I chatted with some classmates, but I didn’t do any dirty dancing or heavy petting. I was a good girl. Like always.
But they don’t believe me. My parents are convinced I’m a party-crazed, filthy little slut now. So they cut me off. I took up a job as a barista, but I’m hardly making enough money to pay my rent and bills, much less the tuition for a private college. My parents always warned me to maintain my purity.
But you know what? Screw them. Because I need money, and fast. If my virginity is truly so valuable, then it should be worth some decent cash, too, right?
Luckily, the bidders on my online auction seem to agree with me on that. In fact, two of them have been sending me gifts to try and woo me, even outside of the bidding war itself. All I know are their usernames: ATurner97 and SaulHackzxx. That’s what they go by on MyCampusList, and those are the names on the gifts I’ve been receiving. So far, they have sent me cute lingerie and shoes in my exact size, thigh-high stockings, expensive perfumes and makeup, flowers, teddy bears, even gift cards to fancy restaurants in town. I guess they want me to know they have the money to spend on me. One of them sent me this bra, and the other sent me these panties.
I think about my two mystery men while I touch myself, rolling my hips and sighing with pleasure as the tension builds up inside of me. I bite my lip to keep from moaning, afraid that my next-door neighbors will hear me. But when I finally cum, I can’t help but cry out, gasping for air.
“Oh my gosh!” I whimper, feeling my pussy convulse with waves of indescribable pleasure. “Is that what it feels like?” I gasp, totally shocked. I lie there, breathing hard, staring up at the ceiling while my body comes down from the high. I never knew that an orgasm could feel like that. I assumed everyone was exaggerating about how good it feels. But oh my goodness, they were all so right!
Suddenly, I can’t believe how crazy it is that I have waited so long. I’ve wasted so many years trying to be a good girl, avoiding this amazing, natural pleasure all this time. And for what? I have lost countless boyfriends who got tired of waiting. I never even kissed any of them. To think, all these years, I’ve been hiding from true pleasure, just because my parents say it’s wrong. Something this fantastic simply cannot be wrong.
I sit up and look at the webpage. In an hour, the time limit on the auction will run out, and the winner will be selected. Whoever bids the most money will win the prize: my innocence. It feels so dirty and sexy that I can feel myself getting turned on all over again. Especially when I think to myself, well, if touching my own pussy felt that good, how much more amazing will it feel to have someone else touch me down there?
I can hardly wait to find out who will win. But I’m feeling antsy waiting around here, so I hop out of bed, shower off, get dressed in my usual modest long skirt and long-sleeved shirt, and pack up my stuff. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and make my way across campus to the courtyard. It’s my favorite place to sit and study, in the sunshine and fresh air. I set up my laptop and blanket under a big tree. I curl up with my laptop, leaning back against the gnarled trunk, watching the people pass by as the minutes tick away on the auction.
So many hot guys walk past me, some of them turning to smile at me. I demurely tuck a ringlet of my auburn hair behind my ear and bite my lip, looking away. I can feel my cheeks blushing pink, just from their attention. It doesn’t take much to fluster me. I’ve never even had a long conversation with a boy. I tend to steer clear of them. Even the boys I dated in high school learned quickly to keep their hands to themselves. We went on chaperoned dates at diners and movies, with at least one strict parent sitting right next to us, watching our hands like a hawk. No touching. No overt flirting. Even the few times I sneaked out to meet up with a boy, I never let him touch me. My shame and fear went that deep.
But not anymore. Now that I’m on my own, now that I’ve felt what an orgasm feels like, all I want to do is sleep with every guy I see. I wonder if any of them are the bidders in my auction. It turns me on to think that any one of these young men could be my potential first time. I look down at the screen and my heart skips a beat: there’s only twenty seconds left!
The number has picked up, but the two remaining bidders keep punching the number incrementally higher, trying to outdo each other. I hold my breath as the countdown comes to an end. The screen reloads… to reveal that it’s a tie! Both guys have bid the exact same amount in the last second! I cover my mouth in surprise, not sure what to do. I scroll down to see a conversation happening between ATurner97 and SaulHackzxx in the comments. My two winners, discussing how to handle the situation. How to handle me.
I watch as they come to a conclusion: that both men will meet up with me. Both men will compete with each other, in person, to see who gets to take my virginity. I will be blindfolded, not knowing who is who, and they will each do their best to give me pleasure and make me cum. Whoever wins, gets the prize: my virginity. I can’t believe how civil they are, both of them discussing my virginity so pragmatically, like it’s just a simple little commodity. And yet, they seem to show a level of respect toward me that I never would have guessed. I’m starting to think that all those years of my parents warning me about how evil and dangerous boys are, they were flat-out lying to me! They always made boys sound so treacherous, but if this is what they’re like, then what’s the problem?
Smiling excitedly, I post a comment in response to them:
Hi boys! Congratulations on being the winners. I agree to your deal. How about we all three meet at the Saguaro Motel out on Highway 89 on Friday night at 8 PM? I will provide the blindfold, myself. ; )
I click ‘send’ and wait impatiently for them to respond. I let out a little squeal of delight when they both agree to my plan. It’s really happening!
It’s Friday night, and my stomach is a-flutter with butterflies. I’m so nervous and excited I have hardly been able to sleep, just lying awake at night, imagining what is in store for me when I finally meet up with my two mystery guys. I can’t wait to see what they look like, what they sound like. Of course, I won’t get to know what they look like at first. You know, with the whole blindfold thing.
That makes me a little nervous as I drive out away from town, rolling down the dusty desert highway toward the Saguaro Motel. Admittedly, it’s kind of a shady place, I suppose. I know it from whispers of gossip, about how it’s known as a honeymooning spot for couples who just had shotgun weddings. It’s the kind of pastel-pink and turquoise desert oasis that is clean and safe, but hasn’t been upgraded or redecorated since the early ‘90s. None of that bothers me much, though, as I walk up to the front desk and ask for a room. What matters to me, the reason why I selected this motel in particular, is that it’s out of town. Away from campus. Away from any potentially prying eyes, people who could judge me in whispers. Even though I’m partly doing this to stick it to my conservative, uptight parents, I still don’t exactly want them to find out. Not yet, anyway. If I ever tell them-- and that’s a big if-- it’ll be on my terms. Not because some snobby, nosy busybody decides to tell them for me.
I know for a fact my parents have little spies on campus. Heck, that’s how they found out that I went to that frat party a few weekends ago! Someone must have been watching me, and tattletaling back to my parents in the small town where they still live. The last thing I need is another scandal that will send ripples of rumors and judgement through my hometown. Although, the longer I spend at Marysvale, the less I ever want to return to my hometown. I prefer being a face in a crowd, the anonymity of campus. I feel like a grown-up, finally, and not just some innocent little girl being led around by her mommy and daddy.
I check into my hotel room and post the room number to the MyCampusList page for my auction, commenting in the posts be
low. I wait for a response, and it comes moments later. My two mystery guys will be here soon.
“Oh goodness,” I gasp, feeling the jitters all over again. I hurriedly rush to put on the sexy, lacy baby pink lingerie my two winning bidders sent me. I rush into the bathroom to put some finishing touches on my hair and makeup. I’ve spent the week trolling through Youtube videos of makeup artists teaching how to do simple smokey eyes and less dramatic nighttime looks. I have never worn makeup before. My parents told me it was sinful. Inviting temptation. But now? Who cares what they think! I look good. And what’s more, I feel good. I’ve also done up my hair in pretty curls, cascading down my shoulders. I smile in the reflection, my light smattering of freckles and dimples making me look young and innocent, in sharp contrast to the sexy get-up I’m wearing. I wonder how old my bidders are. But I hardly have the time to think too much about it before there’s a knock at the door!
I hurry out of the bathroom and nervously smooth down the sheets, fluffing the pillows on the bed. Then I rush to the door and unlock it. In my haste, I nearly forget all about our plan, but then a deep male voice says, “Wait. Remember the blindfold. Go sit on the bed and put the blindfold on. We will come in when your eyes are safely covered.”
“Oh. Right. Of course,” I say quickly. Apart from teaching myself how to do makeup, I have also taken a couple visits to a local sex shop, to pick out some items that might aid me in my upcoming double date. Among the items are restraints, handcuffs, lube, a vibrator, and a paddle for spanking. And of course, the required blindfold. I’m not one-hundred-percent sure how to use these things, but I want to be prepared.
So I tie the blindfold tightly around my head and sit down on the edge of the springy bed, folding my hands neatly in my lap. I take a deep breath and call out: “I’m ready.”
The door creaks open and two pairs of heavy footsteps cross the room, approaching me slowly. I’m breathing hard, my heart racing a million miles a second. I wish I could see their faces, their bodies. It’s scary not knowing what’s about to happen, even though it’s exciting, too.
“H-How do you guys want to do this?” I ask anxiously.
Both men chuckle good-naturedly. Suddenly, there’s a large hand holding each of my own. The man to my left raises my hand to his lips and kisses it gently, saying, “I’m Alex.”
The man to my right lifts my other hand and kisses it. He says in a raspier voice than the first, “I’m Saul. Good to finally meet you.”
I smile and blush. “My name is Lucy. But I guess you guys already knew that.”
