The Final Lot

Mike didn't care. He was not bisexual, but if men appreciated his body, he was comfortable with it.

Sarah had moved in front of him now and was crouching down, kissing and caressing his chest and stomach, exciting him to the point where he would have loved nothing more than to rip off his clothes and fuck her there and then, on stage, in front of everyone. It was a supreme act of self-restraint to keep himself under control.

He knew Sarah was experiencing similar emotions, as she leaned in to him, and whispered:

'Soon you can fuck me stupid.' Before turning her back to him and rubbing her backside down his hard cock as she bent her knees, legs apart, giving those in the room an unrestricted view of her vagina, hidden by a single, thin layer of silk, which now, Mike was certain, was looking very damp.

Absurdly, the shirt sold for £285,000, and Sarah stripped it from his shoulders, leaving him twitching his muscles to please his admirers while attention returned to Sarah.

Next was a stocking, and as bidding mounted, Sarah placed a gorgeous leg on the chair and slowly, tantalisingly unclipped the suspenders, and rolled the stocking to her knee.

Removing the item itself revealed very little, as the stocking was sheer, but the bidding was rapid and generous -- perhaps showing an urgency to reach the final two items.

Almost three quarters of a million pounds for first one stocking, then only slightly less for the second.

Next, it was Mike's turn again.

There is no 'sexy' way for a man to remove his shoes, despite which, they still attracted £100,000 worth of bids. His socks, however, maybe thanks to the foot fetishists again, and maybe thanks to Sarah, made considerably more.

To remove each sock, Sara seated Mike on the chair, before bending forwards, again presenting her ripe posterior, and pulling off each sock with her teeth, at the same time wriggling her backside from side to side, like a dog trying to drag a chew toy from its owner's hand. Mike knew the view the audience would be getting and envied them, but found the gaze of Sarah's almond shaped brown eyes as she looked up at him even more alluring. The promise in those eyes was one which would be fulfilled very soon -- not soon enough for him.

The bidding for the socks, no doubt to prolong Sarah's ass wiggling and the view of the damp patch on her panties, reached almost half a million pounds. Stupid money spent by stupid people.

Next came Sarah's suspender belt. Her matching lingerie set was beautiful, purchased from Victoria's Secret, it was both sexy and classical. Purple silk trimmed with black lace was just so sexy. It was sad to break up the set, but it would be easy to buy it again.

Once again, Sarah had set a high reserve on the suspender belt, and this time she went into a full bump and grind act. The theatre was equipped with a sound system, to which Sarah's phone was linked by Bluetooth. She had chosen a strip club favourite -- Def Leppard -- Pour Some Sugar on Me -- and ground her hips and swung her hair in perfect rhythm.

The bids deluged in, ridiculous for a piece of lace and some metal clips which would expose precisely nothing additional to what was already on show. Yet, as it was removed, Sarah seemed somehow more naked. Now, the next item would reveal something private, secret, never seen before by anyone in the room except Mike, of course, and he knew they were in for a real treat.

Looking around, Mike noted that some were now holding up their cellphones almost openly to video the erotic, exotic dance. He jumped quickly to Norman's side, as he noticed the auctioneer about to speak into the microphone.

'Norman,' he hissed, 'stop. Let them film.' Norman looked shocked, so Mike explained, 'If one film or image appears anywhere, we can track it, sue them and talk about the whole thing. We can ruin these shits and make them look like extortionists and perverts at the same time. Think of it. Millions for charity and these shits grovel.'

It took a second, but slowly, recognition dawned on Norman's face. He nodded and smiled.

As the flurry of bidding ceased, Sarah removed her suspender belt, and handed it over -- for just short of a million pounds.

Next, it was back to Mike and his trousers, bulging all too clearly now. This bulge was stimulating a lot of interest -- and other things. Those who enjoyed penises were debating whether it was just the angle, or the trousers, or whether Mike was indeed that well-endowed. Again, Sarah participated, running hands over his chest and down to his waist, unclipping him first so that only his zip kept the trousers in place. She knelt in front of him, so that he could feel her warm breath on the head of his rigid member. He was so desperate for her to lean forward and take him in her mouth. He knew he would ejaculate instantly and that she would gaze up at him as she swallowed every last drop.

But not yet. Her simulating oral sex, holding his firm buttocks while her head moved in front of him was driving the bidders wild.

For these people, to whom money was no object, throwing around enormous sums of money was nothing new. But now even their standard miserliness was evaporating -- precisely as Mike and Sarah had planned.

'Three million pounds,' echoed a female voice across the room. There was a clear disagreement between the bidder and her male companion, quickly brought up short by Norman.

'Thank you. The bid is confirmed at three million pounds.'

Almost in shock at this vast sum, the room held its breath as Sarah drew down the zip with her teeth, allowing the trousers to fall and the erection to drop onto the silk boxer shorts, clearly defined by the thin, clingy material.

The whole situation was running with awesome results. The charities would receive pay-outs, the like of which they had never seen; the 'guests' were setting themselves up for prosecutions and exposure for what they really were; relationships were falling apart at the seams; and Sarah and Mike were finding a new turn on which would feed their sex life and their fantasies for years to come. And the best part was yet to come.

Three items were left. The first was Sarah's bra, with an enormous reserve.

Sarah's breasts were magnificent. Not huge, but generous, filling her bra without spilling over and without leaving space. They were firm and well rounded. To date, only Mike knew that once the bra came away, they did not drop, but held their shape, firm, yet soft, smooth to the touch, with nipples which pointed up at an angle of some 45 degrees.

The music continued as the bidding opened -- at 2 million pounds.

Sarah pushed one strap down and lifted her arm through, hips swaying, head rolling.

The bidding rose to 3 million.

The other arm was pulled free. Sarah had confidence that the cups would not move, and raised her arms above her head, sending a wave down her body as the music changed -- now the strains of 'Black velvet' accompanying her movements as she stretched, giving her audience the impression that her breasts might spill out at any second.

Their avid stares did not slow the bidding, and as she turned her back, running her hands sensuously up the sides of her body to cup her breasts before moving round to the clips, the sum of five million was bid.

She undid one clip.

Six million.

Another.

Seven million.

The final clip, as one arm moved across the front to hold the fully released garment in place.

Eight million.

With one hand across her breasts, the other came round and pulled the bra free, holding one end of the bra, allowing it to hang free while her breasts remained covered.

'10 million,' cried a voice, 'and no arms in the way.'

Sarah walked forward and handed over the bra, then turned her back. She raised her arms above her head and swayed her hips, arms lowering to cross over her naked chest. Then she turned, leaning backwards, and spreading her arms, before rapidly shaking her upper body making her breast vibrate violently, shaking as effectively and vigorously as any night club stripper, her large brown areolae and erect nipples almost invisible, and sure to become the target of many video pauses in the future. Then, she stopped the music, covered her breasts again and walked to Mike.

He knew he had to be naked first -- not because it was what the majority wanted, but because if Sarah were naked, most of the room would lose interest.

Again, Sarah performed while he waited to be stripped.

Having been coy over showing her breasts during her own performance, she was now uncaring who looked at her, as she knelt before Mike.

At first, she turned him round, grasping his solid buttocks and sliding her hands into his shorts to stroke his bare skin. She laid her head against him, then moved up, rubbing her naked breasts against him, before turning him around. Again, she rubbed her breasts over him, grabbing his head and pulling it low so that he could take each nipple into his mouth. Then she dropped to her knees, lowering his shorts to expose his shave pubis, while keeping his penis covered.

She rubbed her face along his shaft, then knelt to bring her breasts into direct contact with his genitals.

The buyers had lost control some time before, and the lunacy continued.

At twenty million, Sarah dragged down his shorts, revealing his impressive cock to the room. Perhaps a third of those present applauded. The other two thirds either disinterested or put to shame by his endowment. Sarah, face perhaps two inches from his engorged manhood looked up at him, smiled and licked her lips seductively.

She stood, rubbing her breasts over him, before turning to the guests, leaving her buttocks pressed to him. Finally, she moved back to the centre of the stage, proudly topless and preparing to sell her final, most valuable item.

'Our final lot of the evening. Definitely.' Announced Norman. 'An item beyond price. Sarah's panties. Silk and lace, made by Victoria's Secret and currently being worn. Their greatest value, however, is that which lies beneath.'

Once again, Sarah switched to music -- still Black Velvet -- as she danced and posed around the stage.

Her dance, however was becoming increasingly erotic. As she danced, she would role down one side of her purple and black underwear, revealing one buttock, then pull up that side and repeat the process with the other side. She pushed her hand down the front, wantonly touching herself, then lifted her fingers to her mouth, licking her own juices from her hand. Next, she knelt on the stage, knees apart and leaned back until her head touched the floor a small distance above her feet. Her mons veneris stood proud beneath her sole item of clothing, which pulled tight to show the outline of her vulva and the slit between. It was more obvious than ever now that she was very wet, and that her panties would be soaked in her scent. She reached her hand down and gently rubbed the silk into her pussy, pushing it between the lips to leave no doubt where they met.

Bidding had begun briskly, but slowed as Sarah's performance entranced the bidders.

She was close to getting carried away and desperate to climax and relieve her tension, but she was determined not to succumb to this. She knew that release would come straight after her performance, and she needed to keep control.

She stood again, back to the bidders and bent forwards, rolling her panties half way down her buttocks, revealing the crack between them to about half of its full extent. She knew she had a great ass, and this was as big a temptation to the observers as her pussy.

The bidding was insane. Once again, the proclivities of their audience were relevant. Sniffing panties was a common 'kink', and Sarah had ensured that hers were drenched in her scent. Again, the wives of many were unimpressed as their husbands bid ridiculous sums for a privilege which they could have enjoyed at home. Or maybe it was because some of these wives were encountering this 'preference' for the first time in their husbands, and found it disconcerting that their underwear had been sniffed perversely in the past. Maybe even shared.

The bidding passed fifty million, sixty, seventy million, and at seventy five million, Sarah decided she had had enough. She wanted satisfying now. She turned her back on the audience and put her thumbs in her waistband.

Bending forwards, so that her perfect backside was on display, she pushed her panties down. First buttocks, then her vagina, glistening with her juices were revealed as the final item was pushed to the floor.

Stepping forward, Sarah turned and threw her panties to the winning bidder, allowing all to see that she was not, as they might have expected, shaven, but maintained a small, neat bush of pubic hair, trimmed to a neat V above her equally neat vulva.

She went to Mike and took his arm, pulling him to the back of the stage where there was a room where they could finally consummate their needs.

Mike, however, had one last task to perform. He walked to Norman and held out his hand for the microphone.

'Finally, we managed to screw some cash out of you,' he announced, 'and now we are going to do what every one of you wants to do. When we come back, you had better all have fucked off. With a few exceptions,' he nodded to the lady who had bought Sarah's dress, 'I hope I never see your tight-fisted, cheating faces ever again. Norman here will asking those employed to ensure your safety, those security guards outside, to ensure that everyone is gone within ten minutes. Anyone left will be detained and treated as trespassers. Now, Fuck off.'

He turned, spoke briefly to Norman, who was clearly embarrassed to have this large, erect penis swinging so close to him, and returned to Sarah.

They walked off with dignity until they were out of sight, then ran to the closest room.

'Fuck me,' pleaded Sarah, 'Fuck me now.'

He needed no second bidding, and fell on top of her, entering her with ease, and thrusting deep inside in a brief, animalistic coupling. Both achieved their orgasm within 5 minutes, and they lay, gasping in each other's arms.

There was a brief tap on the door.

'Clothes outside,' shouted Norman, 'I'm off too. Well done. Proud of you.'

They lay together, relaxing and coming down from their explosive climaxes. They didn't bother with clothes when they left, nor did they bother sleeping that night as they alternated between tender love making and fucking like rabbits. It was as if they were teenagers again with boundless energy and impossible powers of recovery.

From that day, their sex life was to change, becoming more open and involving others from time to time -- including the lady who bought Sarah's dress - on several occasions. For them it was a re-birth. For thousands -- tens of thousands -- more even - their courage offered a new and better life.

The only ones who lost were those who could afford to. Not only on the night, but in several court cases after. And no-one, least of all Sarah and Mike, could care less.