Next day. I called and we met again for lunch. Letty informed me that there was to be an art sale, an auction, on Friday of next week. Would I like to come. I said that I could not take time off work just now, but Letty sad that was no problem, the sale was to be in the evening. There would be a sort of party afterwards. She went on to explain:
The sales were black-tie affairs, starting at eight with canapés and champagne. The sale would start at about nine and about a dozen 'special' guests would stay on afterwards for what would almost certainly be an orgy. Most of the items that I had seen in the gallery would be offered for sale, plus a few that would be sold for private owners, on a commission basis. How did I feel about the party bit? Being fucked by strangers, on show to other strangers.
Practically all of my sex was with strangers, it excited me no end. As for being on show, what the hell, I was not ashamed of my body. But what would I wear?
"For the party, nothing!" Replied Letty. "But for the sale, do you have an evening dress?"
I did, but I had not worn it for ages, it was probably not fashionable. Letty decided that I should have something new, her treat. I agreed to meet her at her place at nine in the morning on the following Saturday.
She took me to a very upmarket boutique where she was known by the staff, who were very deferential. I tried on a few dresses, but at Letty's insistence, settled on a sexy pale blue number in clingy silk. Full length, halter neck, backless except for a thin strap across the back to hold it together and slit up to mid thigh on one side. It was just a little large for me, the assistant clipped it at the back so that it clung like a second skin. The silk was very sheer, my nipples tented the front and my knickers were clearly visible through it. Even the indentation of my belly-button could be seen.
"What do I wear underneath?" I enquired.
"Madam's favourite perfume, perhaps?" Ventured the assistant.
I went back into the changing room and removed my pants. Now my bush could be seen pushing out the sheer material.
"I can't wear this," I protested, "I'm practically naked."
"You're not going to walk down Old Compton Street in it." Said Letty, "You will be in very select company."
Then to the assistant: "We'll take it, alter it so that it fits, Miss Granger will come in on, Thursday lunchtime? (She raised her eyebrows at me, I nodded.) for a fitting. Charge it to me and deliver it on Friday to my address."
And we left. I went back to her place for a light lunch.
"Come here straight from work on Friday, bring whatever you need to stay overnight. Your sexiest shoes. Oh! And a selection of undies. We'll see if we can find something that doesn't show through that dress."
Sebastian was not there. After lunch we sucked each others cunts until I begged for mercy.
The rest of the weekend passed without incident, as did the early part of the week. I could not wait for Friday. What was in store? By Tuesday I needed fucking, masturbation was not enough. I donned a cocktail dress, very high heels, stockings, suspenders and a tiny thong. No bra. At about nine, I took a taxi to the Park Lane Hilton and sat at the bar. By nine-thirty I was alone in a bedroom with a good looking Canadian, here on business.
He had been very charming in the bar, but he turned out to be a bad choice as a partner for what I needed. He fucked me alright. Twice. But he was only interested in his own pleasure. I did not come. After his second orgasm he fell asleep. I dressed and went home to my own bed, where I finished the job with my own fingers.
Friday at last! I could not concentrate on my work, making several mistakes. I was like a teenager waiting for her first date. I occupied myself with clerical work until finishing time at last arrived. I hurried round to Letty's. She showed me the spare room. The dress was hanging on the wardrobe door.
We had a light meal, then went our separate ways to prepare for the evening. I had brought silver, strappy shoes. Very high heels. 'Fuck me' shoes, to go with the 'fuck me' dress. I showered and washed my hair. My hair needs little in the way of dressing, it's long and naturally silky. I put on my smallest thong, then slipped the dress on. The sides of the knickers were very visible. In fact I had nothing that did not show through the gossamer like material. I knocked on Letty's door. She answered, wearing a dressing gown. I explained my plight.
"Easy," she said, "don't wear any."
I had considered this, but I naturally lubricate very freely. Knowing what the evening promised, I would be leaking like an over-ripe ripe peach. It would show through the dress. Letty gave it some thought, then said;
"Got it!"
She went back into her room and re-appeared brandishing a tampon.
"Put this in." She said triumphantly. "It will soak up your juice and not show. I will tip you off when the fucking is about to start and you can remove it so that you're ready."
It worked.
I was ready first and sat on a dining chair to prevent creases in the dress. Sebastian was next, resplendent in his dinner suit, with red tie and cummerbund. He poured drinks. I could hardly suppress a giggle when Letty at last appeared. She wore a red PVC dress, very short, very low cut. Just two PVC panels front and back, with black laces holding it together down each side, but showing plenty of flesh. Black suspenders, also PVC, ran down from the skirt, supporting thigh length high heeled PVC boots, also red. Red gloves completed the ensemble. Her hair was piled up on her head and her make-up was hopelessly over the top. She looked like a porn-queen in a bondage movie.
"I said that you would not be out of place in that dress." She grinned.
We went down to the gallery, several people were already there. Waitresses in French maids outfits served the wine and nibbles. Letty went around greeting people, over-acting grossly and introducing me. She insisted on introducing me as 'Caroline'. She had forgotten, or chosen to ignore, that I now called myself 'Elizabeth'. So I was Liz in my other life, and Caroline in Letty's. Let's just call it my 'nom-de-fucking'!
The time seemed to fly, suddenly the auctioneer banged his gavel and the proceedings began. The buyers seemed mainly, but not exclusively, to be older men and the prices were just silly. These were very wealthy people. Most of the items were sold and people began to leave. Empty handed mostly. Sebastian explained that the items would be delivered.
Letty told me to "Go and un-plug."
Eventually, only thirteen people were left. Letty stepped onto a low stool and called for order.
"Our little soiree tonight will be for charity. Each of us will buy sexual favours from each other. It will be possible to out-bit each other if you so desire. You do not have to agree, if whatever is demanded is beyond your 'repertoire'. I will start the bidding. I will bid £100 to suck Wesley's big, black cock."
As she said this, she stretched her arms upwards, causing her tits to spill over the top of her dress and bringing a laugh from the audience.
Wesley was a large African American who, he had told me, was attached to the embassy in Grosvener Square. His deep voice boomed out:
"You don't need to pay to suck my cock, you're welcome any time. But whatever the lady wishes."
He removed his jacket and tie and pushed his trousers and under-shorts around his ankles. His 'big, black cock' stood out from a thick bush of hair. Letty knelt before him and bent to her task. A man's voice rang out:
"Another hundred to fuck her while she sucks him."
Letty nodded and pulled her dress up around her waist, revealing her choice arse with her moist peach pouting beneath. No knickers.
The second man, Paul, dropped his pants and positioned himself behind her, his own prick semi-erect before him. As Letty closed her bright red lips around Wesley's knob, Paul wanked his prick up to full strength and fed if easily into Letty's wet slit, held still for a few seconds, then began to fuck her with long strokes.
Letty sucked enthusiastically on Wesley's huge prick. His head was back and his eyes closed as he enjoyed her skilful mouth. Letty kept a grip on his shaft as she sucked. Paul was the first to come, grunting as he pumped his spunk deep into Letty's cunt. Wesley was not far behind, spilling his own seed into Letty's other end. Letty gulped the stuff down as he delivered it. There was a polite round of applause.
Now a woman's voice rang out.
"£100 to have Caroline suck me off."
Caroline. That was me. The woman was a rather masculine type, almost certainly butch lesbian, but I was up for it. I unclipped the waist strap of the dress, followed by the fastening at the neck, and let the garment fall in a pool around my ankles. There were murmurs of approval.
Charlotte, my suck-ee, undressed completely and sat back in one of the sofas which surrounded the outer edge of the gallery. I walked over and knelt between Charlottes widespread thighs.
"Another hundred to fuck her while she sucks Charlie." Came another bid, closely followed by another bid of £150. The first bidder upped his offer to £200 and won. I nodded my assent and spread my own thighs to give him access to his prize. I was sopping wet, he pushed easily all the way into me. I lowered my mouth to Charlottes rather pungent gash and began to earn her money. The man inside me pumped hard and fast, he had no reason to make it last. He came copiously and pulled out immediately, his come running back out of my gaping hole. I speeded up my tongue-work on Charlotte's clit and soon, she too was gasping out her climax.
Someone handed me a tissue to mop up my pussy.
One of the females present was a glamour model who called herself Sheree. She was a regular page three girl and was rarely out of the gossip pages. She was very much in demand by men's magazines. She was to be the object of the next act.
"I bid £100 to fuck the most famous tits in Britain." Said a man called John.