An Auction, a Saddle and a Slave

I've written this unashamedly romantic story, with the help of my husband, from the male perspective. I hope it works and that you enjoy it. KD xxx.

.........

"Oh go on, please Gerry," begged my ex, Jamie (short for Jemima).

"Not a chance."

"But it'll be fun and you'll be helping to raise money for new sports equipment."

"Fun for you. I'll end up doing DIY all day or gardening."

"Don't you want our kids to do well at sports?"

Dammit, she had me there. Jasmine was county gymnastics champion and in with a shot of getting on the English national under-16 team, whilst her twin, Will, played for the under-16s at Norwich City. I sighed and said, "You're going to owe me for this."

I refer to Jamie as my ex, but we've never actually got around to getting a divorce. I suppose separated is the correct term but it's been five years now. Living in nearby villages, we'd remained friends and usually met up once a week. Custody was never an issue; we both knew that the kids needed to be with their mother. "Great, I'll let Cathy know," said Jamie, "So it's the first Friday in May, 7.30 in the village hall."

A fundraising auction. Great.

.....

I was late and the hall was packed, probably helped by the bar at the end. Yeah, get everyone pissed so they bid more. "Good evening, Gerald," said George, the vicar.

"Evening, reverend," I nodded, "Good turnout."

"Excellent, did I see your name on the auction catalogue?"

"Yeah, probably against my better judgement. Many others?"

"Five if I recall. Mostly tradesmen. A car mechanic, plumber, electrician, gardener. Can't remember the other one. Aren't you a structural engineer?"

"Uh-huh."

"Possibly not much demand for one of those in Little Cranford."

"Exactly. I can see myself clearing out a pond or painting a bedroom."

"Yes, well, it's all in a good cause. Good luck."

Good luck? As a consultant, I could earn a thousand pounds a day. I'd be better off chucking a hundred quid in the pot and going to work. Fuck, how did Jamie talk me into this?

A short rotund lady in her fifties appeared in front of me. "Catalogue?" she asked.

"Thanks."

"That'll be five pounds."

I rolled my eyes. Five quid for one sheet of A4 paper. I paid up and headed to the bar. "What'll you have?" asked Mitch who was already there getting a round in.

"Thanks, pint of best," I said.

"I see you got roped in too. We're at the end, the final lots."

"Anything interesting?"

"Depends if you're into old bicycles and out-of-date TVs. A few weekends in cottages, dinner for two at the pub, a spa day at Wroxham Manor, the usual stuff. I might bid on the Morris Minor though. It's a 1955 series two with a split screen and a gold seal engine."

"Is that good?"

"Means it's a factory reconditioned engine. I've given her the once over and she seems pretty good. Runs sweet, just some rust in the usual places. Needs about a thousand spending on her then she'll be worth about six or seven grand."

Carrying my pint, I went for a wander. Jasmine caught my eye and came running over. "Dad, dad!" she squealed, hugging me. I'd not seen her for two weeks and she'd had her hair done in braids making her more beautiful than ever. She took after her mother. We'd married too young.

"Hello gorgeous," I grinned, "What are you going to buy me?"

"Me? Dad, have you seen the saddle?"

"I've only just got here."

"It's over here. Quick, come and look."

She led me by the hand to the corner of the room. "It's a saddle," I said.

"Not just any saddle, Dad, it's a western saddle."

I looked at it. "So what's so special about a western saddle?"

"Look at it, it's like an armchair with this big pommel for roping steers."

"Steers? This is Norfolk."

"But it's beautiful, look at all the tooling, and it's in amazing condition."

"What's in doing in Norfolk? Mostly sheep here."

"I don't know. Mr Whitehouse said a lady dropped it at the school with some western riding boots."

"They any good?"

"Too small for me, but the saddle is pony-sized. Dad, it'll fit Dexter."

I had to admit, it looked very well made and barely used, if at all. On one of the side pieces was embossed 'South Texas Tack'. I got my phone out and searched. It was an 'STT Youth Roping Saddle', currently selling new at $1,995. Wow!

"You'd really use it?" I said.

"Of course."

Being a western saddle, it might go cheap. "We'll see," I said, "What lot number is it?"

"43. Oh please Dad, it can be Christmas and my birthday."

"As I said, we'll see. Where's your brother anyway?"

"Training. They've got a game tomorrow."

An hour later, with Jasmine by my side, I won the saddle with a bid of two hundred pounds. A bargain. She went crazy, hugging me and jumping up and down.

"Now you'll have to spend two hundred on Will," said Jamie behind me. I turned. She was still the hottest woman in the hall.

"Yeah, I know," I said, "Anything you're going to bid on?"

"There's a few things I've got my eye on and the car's nice. My grandmother had one of those when she was a district nurse."

"Have a word with Mitch, he's the village mechanic." As kids, the two of them had dated so I knew that if Jamie fluttered her eyelashes he'd give her good advice and probably drop out of the bidding for her. "And if you need any money..."

"I'm fine, you've always been very generous." Then she squeezed my arm and said, "You're the best ex a woman could have."

That was probably true. I earned very good money and made sure that she and the kids were well looked after.

She won the car for £2,100 and waved excitedly at me from across the hall.

The auctioneer was Ian, the school gym teacher and he was very good, bigging up the lots and weedling extra money out of people. By ten, plenty of drink had been consumed and we reached what he described as the slave auction. "You are bidding on six hours of manual labour," he announced, "But you have to pay for any parts. So if you bid on Dave, he's a plumber. He'll work free for six hours but you pay for any fittings etcetera. Same with the other tradesmen."

They each went for between £100 and £150. I was the last lot of the evening. There being no stage, like the others, I stood on a chair.

"The final lot of the evening, ladies and gentlemen," announced Ian, "Gerry here is a structural engineer but is very good at DIY."

"He can check out my structure anytime," shouted a female voice to laughter.

Oddly, I sold for £175 to a waved catalogue at the back of the room. "Sold!" shouted Ian, "For one hundred and seventy-five pounds to Jasmine Carter."

Jasmine? What the fuck? Baffled, I listened to the school's headmaster announce that the evening had raised £11,689. As he thanked all the donors and bidders, Jamie and Jasmine walked up, both grinning broadly.

Seeing my confusion, Jamie said, "Nothing to do with me, she used her savings."

"But I'm around your place all the time," I said, "You only have to ask if you need something doing."

"We don't need anything doing," said Jasmine, "You're coming to dinner next Friday."

"I am?"

"Uh-huh. Six hours. Six until midnight. Will is away overnight that night for a cup game on Saturday. I'll be serving cocktails then preparing beef wellington followed by raspberry cheesecake."

"You're cooking?" I said, trying to conceal my amused grin.

"Helped by grandma, then I'll go home with her. You'll have to supply the wine though, I don't know anything about wine. Dress is smart but casual. Can I have your debit card and I'll go and pay for the saddle?"

As we watched her walk away, I said, "Well that's awkward."

Jamie shrugged and said, "She's been saying for ages that she wanted to cook us a meal, to thank us for everything we do. I said you might feel awkward and decline. I suppose this is her answer. You can't say no, she just bought you."

"You're okay with this?"

"Yeah, why not."

"Okay, but I'm transferring the money into her account."

"I thought you probably would," she said, leaning forward and kissing my cheek, "Now, I'm going to need a hand with this saddle you've gone and bought."

.....

The train from London's Liverpool Street to Norwich departed fifteen minutes late but we seemed to be catching up. Due in at 17.05, that gave me 55 minutes to drive home, shower, dress, grab the wine and drive to Jamie's. I'd pondered buying some flowers but that might be misconstrued. The train began to slow for Stowmarket. One more stop at Diss, then Norwich. Looking out the window, which could do with a clean, I tried to recall the last time I'd had dinner with Jamie. Yes, we'd done picnics, barbecues and even Christmas lunch but always with the kids. It had to be pre-breakup so at least five years.

Neither of us had cheated and we hadn't had a major bust-up, it was simply that when we were both eighteen I'd gotten Jamie pregnant. I'd done the right thing but we were immature. Thankfully, our parents had supported us but even so, university with two young kids wasn't easy. We stuck it out for ten years but the strain eventually took its toll.

I'd had a few dates and I know Jamie had too, but none were a patch on her.

We got in at 17.14. Damn. As the train slowed I sent Jamie a text, 'Sorry, train late, be there about 6.15'.

A fast shower, shave, iron a shirt and trousers, and polish my shoes. Tie? No, Jasmine said smart but casual. Thankfully, my village was only six miles from hers so I arrived in the nick of time. The door was opened by Jasmine in a floured apron with more in her hair. Blue-eyed and blonde-haired like Jamie she smiled and said, "Enter, slave."

"A slave who bought you a two thousand dollar saddle," I frowned.

"Because I'm so cute," she giggled, "Anyway, it didn't cost you that much. Come in then. I'll take the wine, Mum's in the lounge."

I opened the door from the hallway and stopped in my tracks. Jamie looked incredible in a pale yellow dress and white sandals. Her hair was pleated around the sides and then merged into a single long pleat down her back. I swallowed. She used to call that her 'fuck me pleat'. Me pulling on it as I fucked her from behind always resulted in a massive body-shaking orgasm for her. Had she forgotten or had she done her hair like that on purpose?

"Hi," she said turning and walking towards me. We had a brief hug. She was wearing my favourite perfume. "I've um..., no idea what's going on. They've not let me in the kitchen or the dining room but there's been a lot of laughter from the kitchen."

"You don't think this is part of a Jasmine master-plan to get us back together, do you?" I asked.

"So you wondered about that too? I suppose it's a possibility but let's not worry about that. Let's just have a nice evening. Shall we sit outside while there's some warmth in the sun?"

"Good idea," said Jasmine behind us, "That'll go with the tequila sunrises."

"We don't have any tequila," said Jamie.

"I went shopping with grandma after school. You owe her ninety-three pounds by the way."

I took a glass and chuckled as Jamie shook her head. "Your garden's looking nice," I said as we settled into garden chairs on either side of a low table.

"Not as good as when my dad was doing it. He loved coming around to potter and weed. He grew all those fuchsias from cuttings."

"Mines a bit of a jungle. Crikey, this is strong!"

Jamie sipped hers and winced, "With this and the wine, I think you'll be needing a taxi later. So how was London?"

"Noisy and crowded. Yet another meeting about the new bridge over the Thames. Oh, and I got offered a job."

"Anything interesting?"

"Forensic Structural Engineer with Capital Investigations."

"At thirty-three?"

"They were impressed by my work on the bridge collapse at Newhaven."

"Will it be UK based?"

"Uh-huh, London but working Europe-wide."

"Are you going to take it?"

"Don't know yet, it was only a verbal offer. No salary details or anything. I've agreed to a meeting next week, so will hopefully find out more then."

The tequila sunrises were followed by equally strong manhattans, then Jasmine led us through to the candlelit dining room where she served us a warm maple and bacon salad, beef wellington with fluffy roast potatoes, honey glazed carrots and broccoli, and finally the best baked-raspberry cheesecake I've ever tasted, washed down with the red and white wine I'd brought. We weren't drunk but we weren't far off.

Sitting opposite Jamie, so many memories came flooding back; her pleated ponytail and what it meant, those incredible C-cup breasts, still perfect after breastfeeding the twins, those penetrating blue eyes, those soft sensuous lips that used to slide down my cock. It should go without saying that I spent most of the meal nursing a decent semi, sometimes harder.

Jamie sat back in her chair, sighed, and said, "That was amazing."

I could only nod in response because Jasmine and Jamie's mother, Vera, came in. Jamie and I applauded. Jasmine beamed but said, "Glad you enjoyed it but it was mostly grandma. Will and I both really appreciate what you both do for us and so this was a little thank you. I've got friends at school whose parents are separated or divorced and listening to them shows me how lucky we are. We love you both."

Jamie hugged her. I could see her eyes were wet. Then I hugged her and thanked Vera before they both left, leaving us alone. I carried the plates and stuff through to the kitchen while Jamie put some gentle music on in the lounge. When I entered she had her back to me, swaying to the music. I swallowed and watched her ass gently move. Ohhh.

She turned, smiled and said, "Would a dance be inappropriate?"

"Well," I said, listening to the lilting sound of a saxophone, "We are still married so I guess not inappropriate, but maybe inadvisable."

She tilted her head and said, "I think I can control myself for ten minutes, how about you?"

I stepped closer, held her by the hips and said, "Not a chance." Realising that this could go one of two ways, I kissed those warm succulent lips. She stiffened and then relaxed, her lips parting slightly to admit the tip of my tongue. Seemingly of their own accord, my hands slipped around to cup her buttocks, pulling her against my swelling cock. Other than perhaps saying, "I need you," there was little more I could do to get her to understand.

Jamie moaned into my mouth but then took a deep breath and stepped back, her hands on my shoulders. She licked her lips, stared into my eyes and said, "This can't be a fling, a casual fuck. If you want something more, something long-term, then we can go up to the bedroom. But if this is just lust that you'll regret in the morning, then it would be best if you leave now."

Slowly I shook my head. "Jamie, I've been thinking about this for months. The implications. I didn't want to screw things up by saying anything. But..., oh Jamie, I love you and I always have, always will." There. I'd done it.

She didn't say a word, just closed her eyes, forcing a tear from each corner that ran slowly down over her high cheekbones. Was that her answer? No, her answer was to take my hand, turn, and lead me up the creaky stairs of the old cottage.

Beside the queen-sized bed that I'd made myself from old oak beams ten years ago, Jamie remained silent as she unbuttoned my shirt. As I shrugged it off my shoulders, she turned and pulled her pleat to one side. Slowly, barely breathing, I slid the zip of her dress down her spine which made her give a small shudder. As each smooth shoulder was exposed I kissed it. She seemed to be breathing harder. Like silk, her dress slid and pooled at her feet.

I knew exactly what to do. Lifting her pleat I brushed my lips across the nape of her neck. "Oh, Gerry," she gasped twisting her neck away then back, offering me more. She squealed as my kiss turned into a suck and my hands slipped around, cupping her breasts through her white lacy bra.

I'd discovered Jamie's secret erogenous zone on our third date when I'd brushed my fingers over her nape as she sucked my cock. That was when we discovered that she could orgasm that way; sucking hungrily on my head as my fingers made little circles under her hair.

Under my fingers, I felt her nipples harden. She stepped back, pressing her white pantie-clad ass on the now hard bulge in my trousers. Hooking my fingers into the waistband, I eased the fabric down over her hips. She turned slightly, her cheeks flushed, and said in a husky voice, "Fuck me, fuck me like you used to, then we can make love."

Like we used to? Jeez. Fucking Jamie doggy could be like a rodeo ride. It wasn't something we could do when guests were staying or the kids were about. It wasn't simply fucking, or rough sex. It was often loud, energetic, sweaty, industrial sex. Very loud.

I pushed her forwards onto the bed, pulled her into the kneeling position and dragged her panties further down her thighs, noting the creamy damp patch and the strong musky aroma. From past experience, this wouldn't take long. Quickly, I undid my belt and hauled my trousers and boxers down to my knees, freeing my 61/2 inch cock. Not huge but thick with a fat, flared head. I didn't bother to kick my trousers off, choosing instead to leave them around my knees. Somehow, it seemed more appropriate.

Cock in my fist, I lined it up and grabbed her ponytail. Jamie screamed as I simultaneously drove into her and yanked her head back. We fucked like rutting animals, me driving in making her body shake from the impacts, her clawing at the sheets and thrusting back. Incredibly, any second now she'd take it up a gear.

A minute or two passed with her grunting in time with my thrusts, then she dropped onto her front, legs spread like a frog, pushing her ass up. There we go. I released her ponytail and used my left hand to press the small of her back down onto the mattress. "Ohhhh..., Jesus," she moaned, knowing what was coming next, what she wanted.

I looked down at my creamy cock stretching her pussy lips, then at the pinky brown star of her anus. "Do it!" she panted, "Just fucking do it."

How we discovered this kink is lost in memories. All I know is that she got off on it, even though hurting her had never sat well with me. I swallowed, slowed my thrusting and lined up my finger. She screamed, "Yesssss..." loud and long, as my finger flicked her star, making a click, like flicking a pea across a table. Her anus clenched in response. I did it again, harder, and again, and again. Her cries morphed into a long high-pitched squeal as her legs began to shake.

I drove in deep and held myself, relishing her vaginal contractions as her cries bounced off the walls and every muscle in her body appeared to lock in exquisite pleasure. It was too much for me. I bellowed, felt my balls tingle and my cock swell. "Yeeeeaaa...!" cried Jamie, the shakes starting again as my powerful jets of sperm coated her cervix. She shuddered each time my cock spasmed until, thoroughly spent, we slumped, sweaty and panting. It was all over in five minutes.

Realising I was squashing her, I pushed myself up, eased my cock out, sat back on my heels and watched a river of semen pour from her pussy onto the crumpled sheet. Laying beside her, stroking her back I said, "Um..., I know it's a bit late to ask this but..., um..."

"No."

"No?"

"No, I'm not on the pill or anything. If it's a girl we'll call her Reunion. Renée for short."

"What if it's a boy?"

"Spunk," she said, giggling and rolling onto her back.

"How do you think the kids will react?"

"To a new brother or sister?"

"To us being back together."

"Jasmine will cry, it's what she's always wanted. Will, he'll just shrug and say "Whatever." Typical boy. But inside I know he'll be happy."

"How, um, do you want to manage this?"