Auctioned Older Woman

'How old are you?' she asked.

'Eighteen, yesterday. How old are you?' Benjamin asked.

'It's rude to ask a lady,' she imperiously stated.

'You're not a lady, YOU, are a slave,' he pointed out. 'My father bought you for me, to get me interested in women. Take that off, I want to see my birthday present,' he callously stated.

She swallowed loudly. While he stared at her, she stared back, only breaking the contact while pulling the shift over her head. She dropped it on the floor and stood to attention. She scrunched her thighs together, trying to hide her sex. Nevertheless she couldn't help pushing her breasts out at him.

'How old are you?' he asked, looking un-impressed with her naked body.

'I'm thirty-eight,' she blatantly lied.

'Turn around,' he told her.

Caprice gritted her teeth. The damn kid was trying her temper. She slowly rotated on the spot, careful not to squish a dead pizza.

'What kind of shoes are those?' he asked.

The question threw her. She looked down at them, to be reminded she wore flats issued at the auction house.

'Cheap!' she stated, with a sneer.

'I take it you're used to better,' he returned.

She shrugged. She was used to better treatment from males of all ages. Even women had looked upon her with awe, some grudgingly, others with desire. This callous youth didn't know her, and didn't care what she felt. He was a self-centred brat, made so by an overindulgent father. She bet his mother had died young, or in childbirth. She wished it had been the other way around.

'So what do you want me to do?' she asked.

He shrugged. 'Tidy up the room, that's what slaves do, isn't it?'

'I suppose they do,' she murmured.

Housework hadn't been a habit acquired, though she had plenty of bad ones. When she thought about it, the room looked like hers, after a weekend partying. In those days there had always been staff to clean up, while she went shopping.

'No. Leave the rag,' he said, when she made to pick up the smock.

Bastard! Did he mean to humiliate her? Well she wouldn't worry about being naked. It had been necessary to change from one outfit to another in public places. Outfits were usually too closely fitting for underwear, where a camera would show up unsightly lines. On a beach, or in a foreign market square, wherever they were, she would quickly slip from one outfit to another.

She picked up the nearest item of food, that was still recognisable. He was studying her, she could feel it. Shoving the plate and all into an open box, she moved around the room, not bothering to bend demurely. If she was here to get the son interested in women, then so be it.

It was demeaning, yet she did feel a certain pleasure from his interest. He was less than half her age, even less than the admitted age. She supposed he thought her ancient at whatever age admitted to. It was a mystery why the father had bought her for him. She was trying to work it out. What was it about the terms and conditions that made her right for this job?

About to pick up a half-eaten pizza, she realised she was standing over him. The computer game had been forgotten. He was looking at her, right between the legs, with his face inches from her thighs.

'Well?' she asked.

The tone of voice was much the same as his had been. A disinterest bound with, 'what now?', and 'what's your problem', all rolled into one.

'Nice,' he off handily stated.

She noticed a spark of interest in his eyes. She was prepared to kick start his curiosity, but that was all.

'What is?' she asked, trying for a neutral tone, ready to put him down.

'Your legs,' he said, with a raised eyebrow, showing amusement.

'You're not looking at my legs. How can you comment, when you haven't seen a cunt before,' she challenged.

'You've got a good figure, for an old woman,' Benjamin rebutted.

That hurt. She had a better figure than most women half her age. Of course, she would still be old to him. She was an ancient relic, older than his mother. She was about to ask him for some clothes, even if it looked as though she was giving in.

He cleared a patch of the carpet with a wave of his hand, scraping rubbish away.

'Sit!' he demanded.

Was he treating her like an old dog, an old bitch? With mounting anger she sat. It was better than standing naked before him. She looked across the room, wondering why in hell she was there. She had been bought and paid for, so what else was she to do, but obey him as a slave must. The anger increased another notch.

'Have you ever played a computer game?' he asked.

'I've played all sorts of games, ones that would curl your hair, young man,' she aggressively reacted, without thinking.

'You need to remain calm, otherwise your reactions slow up, and you fire at the wrong time,' he informed her.

'A lot of men I've known have that problem,' she said, and bit her tongue.

'Here, hold this,' he said.

'I've been told that a few times,' she said, then laughed.

'When I tell you to fire, press that button,' he told her.

'Men usually press my button, not theirs,' she laughed again.

The nervousness was showing this time.

She repeatedly missed. A competitive streak pushed her into being interested. She'd thought of killing more than one man before, and right now the rough characters on screen were perfect targets. She started to take out her anger on the screen images. It was difficult to manoeuvre, aim, and shoot, with too many buttons to co-ordinate.

'Yes!' they both yelled with pleasure, when she happened to hit a target.

'It's very good, it looks like a movie. I can almost imagine being in it. I was given a part once, only a one liner,' she admitted.

'Was that because you're beautiful, or can act?' he asked.

'Neither. The producer wanted to get into my panties,' she laughed.

'Imagine the bad guy is that producer,' he laughed with her.

She realised he hadn't asked the usual question men asked, did he get into them. Her aim improved, but was still poor.

'Here, let me help,' he suggested, and put his arms around her to steady her hands.

Her body stiffened, having had such offers from too many coaches. From golf to tennis, men wanted to get close. When trying to learn to play a piano, it ended up as a skirmish, fending off an old man. Nothing had kept her interest, including the coach or teacher. She reminded herself he was just a boy, forgetting for a moment that she was naked.

It genuinely helped, and he let her get on with it. One after another she shot the bad guys, though she suspected some of them were innocent bystanders.

The game was still a mystery to her, though it was amusing to learn something new. She had always shunned new technology, thinking she was useless at it, maybe too old to learn. She was forgetting her age, feeling young next to this disarming adolescent boy.

'We'll play each other now. A forfeit,' Benjamin suggested.

'Like what?' Caprice warily asked.

'Truth, or dare?' he challenged.

'A dangerous game,' Caprice warned.

'I'll buy you a new pair of shoes. Ones you like,' he said, as an encouragement.

After awhile they forgot about the computer game, instead, they just asked each other seemingly harmless questions.

'So why didn't you marry?' he asked, after she explained the reason for entering the auction.

'Never met the right man. Tried a woman once,' she laughed, with embracement. 'I spent the weekend smoking dope,' she tried excusing herself.

'It doesn't matter, if you enjoyed it. Would you try it again?' he asked.

She was forgetting his age, and hers, as he seemed so calm and collected.

'I like men, and they like me,' she replied. 'Why is it that men are so interested in seeing two women together?' she mused.

The suggestion always came up at wild parties. The tipsy men wanted to watch two of the models having sex. Some of the models didn't need much persuading. She avoided it, as it made the women more desirable by the onlookers. She would try to gain the interest and protection of someone she liked.

'I guess a man wouldn't want to see another man. Doing it with a woman he fancied I mean. Also, I don't like the idea of doing it with a man, so can't really feel how a woman would want to. Does that make sense?' he asked.

'Not sure it does. So, you're not gay then,' she bluntly stated.

'No, just not met the right woman,' he laughed.

'Sorry, I guess I'm not exactly what you would want for a birthday present,' she mused.

'Why do you say that?' he innocently asked.

'Come on. I'm far too old,' she admitted. 'I can't understand why your father bought me,' she said, and suddenly felt old and dirty.

He wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her cheek. Caprice felt worse.

'Why did he buy you for me,' he pondered. 'I guess because you have experience, and could cope with my awkwardness,' he shrugged.

'You mean because he thought I was an old whore?' Caprice angrily stated.

'No. He wouldn't do that to his son, would he. You're not that. You're attractive, sexy, and understand awkward me,' he firmly stated.

'I've been bought and paid for, or will be at the end of the contract. I've been around, and I guess it shows. An old experienced whore then,' she bitterly told him.

'You have experience of life,' he kindly added.

The jibe was too subtle for him.

'It means I've been with a lot of men. Sometimes slept with them for what I could get. Slept with that producer,' she nastily said, knowing it put men off to mention previous lovers.

'I think it was your confidence. The way you walked in here, you weren't afraid of being bought. You stood your ground, looked proud, despite the awkward circumstances. I don't think someone my age could do that,' he told her.

'I'm too old, even for a confident, bought woman,' she firmly told him. 'That still makes me an old whore,' she said, sounding less angry, more sorry for herself.

'You'll do, with the lights out,' he arrogantly spoke.

Caprice bared her long nails, ready to dig them into his face. She felt hurt and painful enough to strike out. She caught sight of the gentle smile on his face, and saw it was full of compassion. It melt the anger in a trice. She sat there looking at him, with a soppy look on her face.

'You impressed me, the way you played the game. Very competitive, aren't you. You're a beautiful woman. A very desirable woman. I like talking to you, and like you being close to me. This is obviously difficult for you. I want to cuddle you, will you let me?' he softly spoke, meaning every word.

'I'm supposed to seduce you, not the other way around,' she weakly smiled.

'Maybe that wouldn't have worked,' he said. 'Does that mean I'm seducing you?' he asked, looking surprised.

'Yes. You're doing a good job of it too,' she smiled.

'Good. I want to seduce you,' he said, looking at her intently.

'Don't look at me like that. I might give in,' she sighed.

He put his hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him. 'We've been thrown together, does it matter how, or why?' he asked.

'You're too clever. Wait until the right girl comes along, it will be so much better, honestly,' she assured him.

He only just refrained from telling her she belonged to him, so had to do as she was told. Instinctively he knew it was the wrong thing to say, and didn't want to spoil the moment.

He tightened his arms around her, and kissed her lips.

'That's not a kiss,' she said.

She almost said it wasn't a lover's kiss, which meant he was getting to her, breaking down a natural resistance. This was ridiculous, did his father want to punish them both? A wife for leaving him, and a son for killing her in childbirth. She pushed him away.

'You'll have to do better than that. I mean, with a girlfriend your own age,' she said, reminding him of the situation.

'Teach me then,' he suggested.

The eager look on his face caught her off guard. 'Let go of me then,' she told him.

She wanted to take charge, and keep it safe. With him it was easy to forget she was naked and in a vulnerable situation. He was relaxed and didn't make her feel bad. With mere words and will power, she had often handled experienced men, calming them down, guiding them to a safe distance.

She pulled his head forward with both hands. She kissed his eyes, gently sucked a lip between hers, and opened up his mouth. She delved in with a tongue, exploring his mouth, wrapping her tongue around his.

They began a duel, breathing heavily through flared nostrils. Arms wrapped around each other, holding on tight. She hadn't meant to make it a marathon, just a quick demonstration had been planned, to keep him quiet. When his hands began to explore her body, she found herself responding.

Damn! This wasn't supposed to happen!

A gentle shove to push him away didn't dislodge him. It had been too ineffectual, not intended to stop him. It was just a token, something that should be done, though not really wanting it to stop. She wanted to be reassured, needed to know she was attractive, still desirable. The feelings turned to simply wanting him.

Without knowing what he was doing, Benjamin instinctively found himself between her legs. Still kissing her fervently, he became aware that he should do something. He felt her pull his cock out. It was electrifying feeling a hand, other than his own, wrapped around it.

Already hard, it became solid. No wonder it was referred to as a woody, he thought. He felt her rub it against her softness. It felt wet and slippery. She was breathing with little gasps, whispering something to him. The half whispered sounds were aimed at him.

'Don't let me down now,' she pleaded.

On feeling the head of his cock enter her body, his worries over what to do evaporated. He thrust in, and stopped. She had wailed out, as though in pain. She dug her sharp nails into his buttocks, pulling at him.

'Fuck me, fuck me hard,' she urged.

Without thought he pushed with strong leg muscles. He began pounding at her with youthful hips, releasing a strength unfelt before. He was no sportsman, but had the athletic frame to maintain a steady, relentless rhythm. He pounded away at her without a destination, a journey without end.

'Cum now, my lover,' she cooed. 'Fill me, Ben, fill me to bursting. I'm there,' she wailed.

Half hearing, half understanding, the sound of his name emanating from her luscious lips was enough. One last deep penetration, pushing home, arriving at the destination all his efforts had strived for. Holding fast, he tied up in port, with strings of sperm, linking them both together in passions embrace.

Their bodies were sweat soaked, gluing them closer than weakened arms could. She heaved him from her chest, breathing deeply. Shoving her long hair to one side, she sought his lips. While he sucked deeply at much needed air, she briefly pecked at his lips, and penetrated his mouth with a darting tongue.

Her finger tips danced over his chest. Palms smoothed a path over taught stomach muscles, with fingers outstretched, scratching and teasing sensitive flesh. She moved with them, guiding with her eyes a spider like dance of sensations. Enjoying his taught young body, she smothered it with her breasts, feeling every touch through smouldering nipples.

The fire in her veins was waning, not yet releasing her from a yearning desire to be his, and to please her lover. She fondled his softening cock. She delicately played with his still stretched sack, as though it were a purse of gold.

She couldn't refrain from helping herself to her lovers juices. Their melded wetness tasted of oysters and caviar, yet it was sweet to her. He was a sweet young man, murmuring boyish love notes. She licked and lapped at her lovers cock, savouring a submission born of longing and satisfaction.

Holding back for a moment, she breathed in the heady aroma of the conquering male. Kissing the head of his penis, wasn't enough, she pulled it into her mouth, sucking it in, drawing it once more into her body. A different satisfaction fulfilled her. A less frantic passion consumed her. She wanted nothing more than to be his, and so at last found a belonging she craved.

They fell asleep with her comforted in his arms, and by soft gentle words. His thoughts were simple, full of the comforting delight from having a woman.

Sometime during the night they roused themselves, to stumble to his bed. He wrapped her in his arms, and she nestled him to her bosom. They slept together, sometimes spooning, otherwise pressed face to face, breathing softly into an ear, sleepy lovers declarations.