Anything For The Sale

The hands kept going. Soon all the buttons were undone.

But the hands didn't stop. They tugged at the shirt fabric until the tails of the shirt were pulled, fully, from underneath the tight waist of her skirt. She pulled the shirt back. Now he could really see her.

Jackie was proud of the condition and shape of her body, and her abs were a particular source of pride. She knew looks were an important selling point for her job, and she kept her figure lean and sculpted by eating carefully and working out in the gym five days a week. She had just enough fat to fill out her feminine curves nicely, but her torso was lean enough to show a hint of her abdominal muscles. Sometimes, at the gym, while on the stairclimber or treadmill, she wore only brief shorts and a sport bra, and she could feel the eyes of the men nearby on her figure as she ran. She enjoyed that feeling.

But she'd never, in her life, done anything as brazen as what she was doing now. What she felt now was different from anything she'd ever felt in her life. She didn't know what name to put to that feeling.

"Continue," said Victor. "Take the shirt off."

"OK," Jackie said. The softness and meekness of her voice in her ears annoyed her. If she was going to do this, she wanted to do it confidently. But she couldn't quite muster anything quite like confidence even as her resistance to Victor's request ebbed away.

She sat up straight and lifted the shirt off her frame. She tossed the shirt, carefully, to another part of the island, near the flowers.

Jackie's skin prickled from nervousness and from the cool air. The air conditioning had been running all morning to ward off the summer heat and keep the house comfortable for potential buyers.

Now the coolness, kissing her bared skin, heightened her awareness at her condition.

Her bra, fully on display to Victor's eyes, was of a cream lace design, matching her cream blouse, with a deep, plunging neckline. Victor, she knew, had a sweeping view of her cleavage, and she imagined her wide, rosy areola lay just barely hidden beneath its upper edge.

"Keep going," Victor said.

Jackie's hand waivered. It didn't know whether to go up or down.

"Your choice," Victor said, obviously knowing what she was thinking.

Jackie's hands went to the zipper behind her skirt. She sat up and pulled down. She unzipped herself, the zipping sound surprisingly loud in the otherwise silent room.

When she was done, she simultaneously hopped off her butt and pulled at the skirt in short tugs. It wasn't easy to do, but she imagined Victor didn't want her to jump off the island. He wanted the show to continue right where it was, and giving him a good show was what she must do.

Finally, after a few more tugs the skirt was off her hips and at her legs. She bent her knees up, and in another moment she had the skirt in her hands. She placed it next to the shirt and turned back to Victor.

He sat impassively, smiling faintly, but not lewdly, with the same air of casualness he had affected when they met. Jackie was still nervous, and half in disbelief about what she had done so far, but his casual demeanor eased her nervousness, at least a bit.

"Do you like what you see?" she asked, surprising herself with the boldness of her question.

"Very much," he said. "You are beautiful, Jackie. Now show me everything."

The brassiere unsnapped at the front. When the cups parted from each other, the bra's elastic force pulled them apart. Jackie shucked the bra off, one arm at a time, the other hand and arm covering her breasts from Victor's wide, steady eyes.

I'm really going to do this, she thought.

"You're doing great, Jackie," Victor said. "Keep going."

She lowered her arm, showing her breasts to Victor.

Jackie was fortunate among women she knew to like her own breasts. They were full and rounded, with wide pink nipples that jutted forth so conspicuously that Jackie always was aware of the need to dress carefully to avoid showing off "headlights." Jackie was 41, so her breasts had lost some of the loft and perkiness of youth, but not so much that she had felt the need to get a boob job, as so many other women in her line of business had.

The cool air -- which seemed even colder now -- tickled her nipples, and Jackie knew they greeted Victor's eager eyes fully erect and hard. His eyes left her face and wandered over her chest, taking in one breast at a time. He smiled appreciatively.

Jackie knew she needed to put on a show, so she slid her hands, fingers splayed, slowly up her sides, in sinuous curves, until a hand cupped each breast. She lifted one, then another, then moved them in achingly slow circles. Her thumbs flicked against the pert tips of her tits. She caught Victor licking his lips, and this time she smiled at the reaction she'd received.

Jackie had stripped for her husband, of course, when she had been married, and for other men she had known in the bedroom, but she had never put on a show that was so agonizingly slow, so brazen, and so sexy.

Despite the prick of cold air on her skin, an unexpected warmth grew inside her. She began to enjoy her own performance.

She threw her head back and sighed and her hands wended their way down her torso until her French-manicured nails contacted the upper edge of her panties. She brought her head down and gazed ahead so she would know exactly what Victor was looking at. His eyes had followed her hands, and his attention now was fully focused on the tiny thong that barely covered Jackie in a creamy lace that matched the discarded bra.

Jackie always wore thongs under skirts. She usually wore skirts that were short and tight and made of thin material, and it was important to her never to show panty lines.

This thong was tinier than most -- just a little triangle of lace held together by long, pencil-thin strips of cream lace embroidered with a few tiny rose-shaped dots to add a touch of color and variety. The triangle was so small that it had to be kept in just the right place to preserve whatever modesty Jackie had left, which, now, was very little.

But this was no time for modesty. Jackie had gone this far, and she was prepared to go all the way.

She would not, however, go too quickly.

Her slender, elegant fingers teased the tiny lace strips along her hips, and delved under them, lifting the thin strips away from her skin. She pulled one strip up, and one strip down.

Victor's eyes were glued to her thong. They looked at nothing else.

Jackie pulled up tightly on the strings of the thong, shrinking the width of the triangle and stretching it tightly over her pubic mound. She parted her legs and pushed her hips out so Victor could see better. She looked down to see better, too. A noticeable, vertical cleft appeared now under the lace, and the triangle was so thin that the edges of her outer labia appeared on both sides.

She took a finger from one of the straps and touched it to the lace, tracing a line along the dimple under the paper-thin fabric. She felt moisture. She pushed, and both fabric and finger dipped into her cleft. The triangle narrowed still further, and there was no doubt about it anymore -- the full expanse of her outer labia was on view. Only the slit of her pussy itself remained hidden. Wisps of neatly trimmed hair emerged into view as well beyond the edges of the lace triangle.

Jackie still felt nervous and vulnerable, being almost naked, as she was. But she felt a delicious power, too -- the power of a stripper over her audience. Her performance so far had utterly mesmerized the powerful and handsome Victor Maxon. She knew she was putting on a good show, and it was about to get better.

Quickly, Jackie lifted her knees and legs and swung to the side, so her heels rested on the island counter and her body was sideways to her audience. Victor could no longer see between her legs. She reached down and with agonizing deliberateness snaked the thong off her hips, up her thighs, over her knees, and down her calves, until it lay in a little lace puddle at her feet. With the point of a four-inch heel she kicked it away.

Now she sat completely naked in front of Victor Maxon.

"Magnificent," he said.

"I'm just getting started," she replied.

She paused, holding his eyes with her own, and then pivoted on her bottom and swept one leg grandly around, until at last she sat fully spread and exposed before Victor, heels up and on the island counter, knees bent and pointed away from her to the ceiling, and her nude body at last fully on display to Victor.

Jackie kept a well-trimmed patch above her clitoral hood, but beneath it everything was shaved bare. And her bare vulva now lay open and exposed to Victor's view. She sat that way, legs open, with her hands on the island counter propping her up. She sat still.

Jackie saw with satisfaction the way Victor's eyes feasted on her body, and specifically on the junction between her legs. For perhaps a minute he said nothing, but a bulge grew noticeably in his pants, and his hand moved up from his thigh to the bulge and lightly and absent-mindedly stroked it. The bulge grew more.

Victor broke the silence.

"Play with yourself, Jackie. Make yourself come for me."

The forefinger and middle finger of one of Jackie's hands snaked down between her legs to her pussy, and each finger peeled a lip back, until the lips were spread as wide as they could go and the full pink depths of Jackie's pussy was exposed. The finger from the other hand traced up and down the length of her deep rosy furrow until both her cunt and her finger glistened with wetness. When her fingertip was noticeably moist Jackie withdrew it, and she put it to her mouth and sucked everything off it.

Then her finger went back, plunging into her pussy while the fingers of her other hand held it open in a lewd show for Victor. Jackie felt brazen and vulgar, but she didn't care anymore. She'd given up any pretense of modesty and reveled in the lust that radiated from Victor's face and body. He sat upright on his stool, like a panther coiled and ready to spring at his prey. So far, he had barely moved. But Jackie wondered if that would continue for long.

Lust welled up inside Jackie, too.

She knew something that would make Victor move.

She withdrew a very wet finger from her depths, and she held it up in the air. Then she stretched it out, toward Victor's face.

He didn't wait long. He stood off his stool, leaned forward and sucked the juice off Jackie's outstretched finger, ending the sucking after a few seconds with a loud "smack."

"Delicious," he said.

Jackie's fingers turned their attention to her throbbing clitoris. She mashed her hand against it and moved it over and around her aroused nub in tight circles.

She enjoyed herself so much she almost forgot Victor was there. The feeling of her rapidly moving hand rubbing between her legs was all-consuming. The sensation blocked out all else. She closed her eyes. She lost track of time.

It could have been five seconds or five minutes later that she opened her eyes, for all she knew. She lost track of time. But when she opened her eyes, and saw Victor, she grew alarmed. Victor held his phone in his hand, upright, between them, and it was plain that he intended to snap a photo of her.

Instantly, Jackie covered her pussy and her breasts with her hands.

"Hey!" she said. "What's that? You didn't say anything about photos, and I didn't give you permission to take any!"

Victor lowered the phone.

"I thought you wouldn't mind, under the circumstances."

"Of course, I mind! I can't risk you having photos of me like this. If they got in the wrong hands . . . "

"You're right," Victor said, with a firmness in his voice that surprised Jackie.

He pointed to something on the kitchen island near her.

"That's your phone, right?"

"Yes, it is," she replied.

"Pick it up," he said.

Jackie picked up her phone and held it before her.

"And?" she asked, looking at Victor.

"Open the camera app," he said.

While Jackie obeyed, flicking her thumb over the phone screen to get the camera ready, one of Victor's strong hands unzipped the fly over the bulge in his pants. A few fumblings with his hand later, Jackie saw his cock spring forth from his pants. It stood tall, thick, and magnificent -- a smooth, lordly shaft thrusting up from his lap and pointing arrogantly straight up at the ceiling. Jackie couldn't help but let out a little gasp. It was one of the biggest cocks she'd ever seen in person, and, she guessed, from its girth and its vertical posture, one of the hardest.

"There you go, Jackie. Take a photo. You do me and I'll do you. If one of us rats on the other, the other can do the same. Mutually assured destruction. We both go down. I have even more at stake with my reputation than you do."

Jackie held up her phone and snapped a photo of Victor. She checked the result on the screen to confirm it showed his face and his long, upright penis.

"My turn," Victor said.

Jackie put her phone down and faced Victor. She sat up tall with her legs apart. Victor saw everything and could capture everything on his camera. She scarcely could believe that she was submitting to his request. It would have been inconceivable only 15 minutes earlier. But she was spurred on, not just by his dubious logic of reciprocal destruction, but, she had to admit, by the thrill of exposing herself to him. She'd long since given up any pretense at modesty and given in to brazen exhibitionism. And it was that much more fun to know how much it thrilled him. His hard cock gave proof of the effect her naked body had on him, and she reveled in the effect.

Victor snapped his photos. Unlike Jackie, he took more than one. Jackie complied, turning this way and that and striking different poses for him.

When Victor stood up from his stool and drew closer, Jackie knew what he wanted, and she opened her legs wider so he could get it. He held the phone close to her pussy. She held it open for him. She knew he wanted close-ups, and she wanted to give them to him. He snapped away.

"Exquisite," he said.

"What are you going to do with the photos?" she asked.

"Keep them to myself," he said. "You can be sure of that."

He took a few more photos and then sat back on his stool.

"Now play with yourself again, Jackie," he said. "Make yourself come for me."

Jackie already was in a high state of arousal, and Victor's request gave her the chance to get relief. Without delay her hand flew down to her pussy, found her clitoris, peeking out from the hood enfolding it, and it began rubbing, slowly at first, but growing faster and faster.

She saw with satisfaction that Victor put his phone down and began running his hand up and down the cock sticking up straight from his pants. His hands were large and his fingers were long and Jackie observed with approval that his nails were well manicured. Jackie appreciated men who took good care of themselves, and Victor was an excellent specimen of such a man. She wanted to come for him.

The rubbing had its effect, heightening the pitch of her sexual fever and driving her on closer to climax. Jackie began moaning -- partly for effect to entertain Victor but mostly because her body couldn't stop it. Her body no longer seemed entirely hers to control. It was swept up and away by desire and need.

Her moan turned to a high-pitched cry as her body suddenly gave way and shuddered to a climax. The orgasm overtook her and her whole body shook. Her legs, especially, spasmed uncontrollably. She kept rubbing, although the climax made further contact with her sex almost unbearable.

The whole time, Victor's eyes never left her body.

Jackie's lissome figure grew still as she came down from her orgasm. But she didn't close her legs or move her body. She leaned back, weight on her hands on the counter, and waited for Victor to say something.

She felt confident she'd put on the show he wanted, and that the sale was hers.

"That was superb," Victor said. "That might have been the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life."

Somewhere deep inside, Jackie felt a twinge of guilt that she took so much pride at the smile she'd put on Victor's face. She should have felt embarrassed at having given in to his request and put on such a brazen, shameless show to stoke his lust. But the truth was, she didn't feel embarrassed. She felt good at having put on such a good show.

Victor stood up, approached the island, and held out a hand to her. She took it and hopped off the island. Her body rocked unsteadily for a moment when the high heels hit the floor, and her body swayed forward, against Victor's. Her nude body felt the strength and muscular firmness of his own clothed body.

I'd like to know more about that body, she thought.

Victor put a hand out to steady her, but his other hand didn't leave hers. It held on, and then he pulled away and began walking out of the kitchen, toward the back of the house, pulling her along after him.

"Wait a minute," she said, resisting. "I put on the show you wanted. You're going to sign the purchase papers now, aren't you? You gave your word."

"I gave my word, and I intend to keep it. But only when the show's done. It's not done. It's time for act two."

"Act two?" she asked, dismayed. "What's act two?"

"Follow me and find out."

He pulled her along, through the house. Jackie was keenly aware of her nudity and the distance Victor was putting between her and her clothes, still piled on the kitchen island.

They arrived at the back door.

"What are we doing?" Jackie asked.

Victor pointed, beyond the door.

"We're going out there," he said.

"I can't do that!" Jackie said.

"Why not?" Victor smirked at her.

"There's no back fence!" she cried. "It's totally exposed back there. Anybody on the river or across the river can see this back yard. If I were out there . . . naked . . . someone might see me."

Victor looked where she was pointing, to the back yard and beyond.

"They might. But it doesn't look from here like there are many people out there. And they're probably not looking this way. And even if they were, they're so far away they wouldn't recognize you."

He tugged at her hand and opened the door, walking through with Jackie pulled along after him.

The first thing Jackie noticed when she exited through the back door was the summer heat on her body. It was late morning and the sun was high and she wore nothing to shield herself from its rays.

The second thing she noticed was . . . she was still naked, but there were no walls around here anymore. She stood on high heels, and nothing else, on a geometrically shaped patio of square stones. Beyond the patio a bright green grass lawn extended for a while, sloped down, and ended at a bluff high over a river. Beyond the river, one hundred feet below, a tree-filled park spread out, and beyond that neighborhoods filled with houses extended in every direction.

She stood on an open stage, under the sun's splotlight and a cloudless blue sky, exposed to a potential audience of uncountable numbers in three directions.

Victor pulled her forward, to the edge of the patio, and then to the lawn.

"Victor, stop!" she cried. A heel stuck in the grass.

Victor stopped, and he turned back to her. He smiled. Then he walked slowly around her and behind her, and he rested his hands on her shoulders. Jackie felt his chest against her back.

"Victor, I'm naked," she said. "Anybody can see me."

She heard his voice, firm but soft and soothing, in her ear.

"They can see you, maybe, if they're there to see you, and if they're looking. But look around. Do you see anyone?"

Jackie looked. Perhaps a half-mile stretch of river lay exposed to view from the lawn on which she stood. That meant anyone on that stretch, or across it, could see her, if they looked carefully enough. She saw a raft with people upriver, maybe a quarter mile away. She saw a kayak just downriver, facing the other way. In the distance, she thought she saw someone walking on the far shore of the river, on the edge of the park.