This is happening. This is working.
I'm lying on my bed, watching the bids roll in,
the dollar amounts stretching higher before my eyes. I am so glad that my housemate isn't home right now, because I definitely don't want anyone to catch me doing this. Especially considering what I'm wearing.
I've always been a good girl, the type to wear sports bras and panties that cover me up, no-nonsense cotton in flat, plain colors. But right now? I'm wearing lingerie. With lace and cute little bows and everything. I can only imagine how enraged and offended my parents would be if they found out. I gently squeeze my breasts through the fabric of my brand new, baby-pink push-up bra. There's a tiny white bow in between my full breasts, and I think maybe that's there to indicate that my tits are a gift. Or a prize of some kind. I have never thought much about my breasts, to be perfectly honest. The way I was raised, I never thought my physical appearance had much value. I take care of myself, of course,
but I've always been so modest and demure.
Heck, even when I strip down to take a shower, I try not to look at my own reflection, just in case I get dirty thoughts about my own naked body! I have never touched myself down there before. I don't even know what it would feel like. I've been tempted from time to time in the past, when I watched a movie with an especially cute leading man or something. But I always stopped myself before I could do something really, truly sinful.
Which is why it's so dirty what I'm doing right now. One of my hands trails down my body, over my full, soft breasts, my taut stomach and curvaceous hips, down to the little mound between my legs. I hold my breath nervously as I cup my pussy. I have never put anything here, not even my own hand, until now. Even in the privacy of my own bedroom here, in my college town away from home, I feel like someone might walk in on me and tattle-tale to my parents about what a dirty little slut I am. But who cares what they think anyway? It feels good, rubbing my sensitive clit through the lacy fabric of my panties. They match my bra almost perfectly, the same shade of ballerina-pink with tiny white bows. It feels like this lingerie was made for me. It's almost like my mysterious suitors can read my mind. I wonder if they know me in real life. Maybe we've already met somewhere before, and I just can't remember their faces or names...
I rub my clit slowly, breathing deeply as I fondle my
breasts. Every time my fingers pass over my nipple, it sends a little spiral of pleasure down through my body. I can't believe I'm actually doing this: it's so sinful. I grew up afraid to even look at boys, for fear that small act would give me impure thoughts. My parents always taught me that the most valuable asset I can offer the world is my purity. My innocence. I have been lectured since day one about how I have to guard my virginity. I have only this one special gift to give, and once I give it away, I can never get it back. That's what Mom and Daddy taught me, anyway.
I close my eyes and imagine what my two guys must look like. There are have been many bidders, but those two stand out above the rest. I bet they're both a little bit older, more distinguished. Mature. Responsible. I mean, they'd have to be, since they have so much disposable income to throw around, right? When I put my virginity up for auction in an ad on MyCampusList, my college's secret website for buying, selling, and meeting up with people, I never expected to get more than a couple hits. I did it out of desperation, thinking maybe I could eke out a few bucks to throw into the massive black hole of debt I'm about to incur.
You see, I've never had to worry much about money. My parents never let me have a job in high school. When they sent 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!