The bidding on Ashley was over. She always goes for a premium price. She's 38. I'm 52. So now I was the last one to be auctioned off. The men were able to see me but I could not see them. Nor could they see one another. Privacy is what made this fund raiser work.
The women knew that they would be expected to do a fashion show in a private hotel room at a 5 star resort in our lingerie or in a bikini. For that, our club would raise a lot of money for the local SPCA.
The master of ceremonies asked me to turn with my back to the video camera so that the guys could see my backside. Then I was asked to lean over and show cleavage, of which I have a bit but not like Ashley.
I had on some high wedges to make my calves look shapelier and a kick ass new demi bra to compliment the thong I was wearing. All the men could see though was a very tight turquoise sweater top and a mini skirt. It was fun to dress like a slut for this once a year event.
30 minutes of this and I was told the bidding was over and that I was to go to room 203. I wondered who I would parade around in my lingerie for as I knew most of the members of our club.
I tapped on the door which was opened by a younger (than me for sure) black male who I had never seen before. He introduced himself as Calvin (and a hot Calvin I thought to myself) and I in turn told him my name (Tana) as I walked in and admired the view looking over the pool and golf course.
I saw a pitcher of something on the bar. I looked at him inquisitively and he told me he had ordered top shelf margaritas, to which I gladly helped myself to.
You need a little liquid courage to do this when your day job is a school teacher and you are married and raising two kids. But I was a stripper in college so posing in lingerie (which I wore this year rather than a bikini) is not that big a deal.
"I am new to this, he said. But as I understand it I get to see you in your lingerie."
"That is correct. I'll undress down to my lingerie and you can look. And for that you write a check to the SPCA. We certainly appreciate your generosity. Do you mind me asking what you bid for me? "
"The bidding for you stopped at $5,800. So I will write a check for that, but I might do more."
I let that comment hang in the air, but he did not elaborate.
I went back to the bar and poured a 2nd margarita as I gazed more closely at him.
"So are you ready to see more?"
"I am, but I'd like the pleasure of opening your sweater and removing your skirt myself."
This was new territory, but I guess there could be no harm in that. I walked into the bathroom to check my makeup and brush my hair. I was buying some time and knocking back this 2nd margarita to allow myself time to pour a 3rd. This had an air of something I had never felt before in the prior 3 years of doing this. Usually I was in the room with a drunk 60 year old who could not wait for me to undress and then it was game over. Done.
"If you don't mind, I am curious as to how you were among the list of men invited to bid on us. You are much younger than most club members and honestly I am not aware of any black members."
"Actually, I am not a member, but the Lipschitz's are and I handle their IT and accounting services. I saw the invitation in their email and the women who were being auctioned and what the cause was. I love animals and I definitely liked the women going up for auction. I was attracted to you because you were over 50 and in great shape."
Thank God the tequila was having an effect. This was NOT the situation I was expecting. I needed one more drink. I poured another and watching his eyes follow my ass across to the balcony.
"What I would like to do if that is OK is to have you sit on the chair so that I can take off your sweater."
"That is what you paid for. If you want to take it off rather than have me do it, go for it."
I owned 3 of these sweaters that I purchased from Boston Proper, a fabulous clothier. This one was sleeveless with a countless number of buttons on the front. I sat and he took a seat on the ottoman in front of me. His hands quickly opened the top four so he could just barely see the hint of cleavage.
"May I continue?"
Damn, so polite.
"Hell yeah said my margarita induced mouth."
Pop. Pop. Pop. He was halfway down my sweater. My awesome fucking bra was now exposed with my tits spilling out. Hey, he paid for the view. And I was loving the chance to show myself to a hot dude and not some old rich fart.
Pop. Pop. Pop. And the sweater was off. I watched his eyes linger on me. I know that I still look damn good for 52. My abs are rock hard and my tits look pretty good behind a nice bra. They look good fully exposed in fact, but that is not part of the price of admission.
"Do you mind turning around so that I can unzip the back of your skirt now?"
And I did.
