We were led upstairs by a girl who I almost wanted to prick with a pin, or pinch. She was so perfectly put together and her behavior so appropriate, I wanted to ses her come undone.
Of course she recognized me, I was used to that. But I was never used to the mechanical way that people interacted with me.
And of course her eyes moved to my companion, because he was just as known as me. Because he was with me.
As we walked to the private bidding room, we walked past it: the gorgeous photograph that from the time Henry saw me looking at it, he wanted to buy for me.
He spoiled me, and I loved it.
“No, I want to buy this for myself and I want you to come…to bid with me!” I’d countered.
“But you can do a phone bid or something Pauline. Why would you want to be in that circus? It is not our style.”
I smiled at him. He knew me so well, us so well.
“We will have a private room of course,” I said to him. “Because that is our style.”
I looked at the gorgeous photograph of a corset, almost as lovely as the one I wore. As we walked past the employees they all stared at me. Henry was the kind of man that other women hated you for being with. But because I looked the way I did, they hated me additionally because I could pull him. But that was what I had done and corset or not to alter my shape, I could have done it even if I was older than him.
Henry took my hand, and walked ahead of me to open the door.
“Can I help you with anything else Ms. Ross?”
I looked at the young woman in front of me and smiled, not too harshly I hoped.
“No, dear. We are fine.”
Henry was hungry for mey body, and he barely was able to let the door close before his hand was on my ass. I saw the young woman blush, but then hold my eyes a little longer than she needed to with a smile and…envy.
Pushing me against the wall, Henry pressed himself to me, caressed my hips and licked the top of my breasts as if they were ice cream in a cone: soft licks in circles. He panted softly as he pulled up my dress and caressed my ass with his hands in circles much like he licked my breasts.
“We are not going to fuck unless I get that picture,” I heard myself pant, eyes closed tightly with pleasure as he did not stop licking my breasts or touching my ass. “Did you hear me?” I opened my eyes.
Henry stopped, he heard the seriousness in my voice.
I braced myself against the wall, and smiled at him.
“We are not going to fuck unless I win that picture!”
I knew Henry’s limits, and I knew I had pushed them. He liked to play with me, but he really wanted me and I wanted him. But I was not going to be with him when I was nervous about winning the photograph.
“Are you kidding me? Your lot is awhile away! You want me to sit here with this and not fuck you?”
When he stroked himself through his pants, I felt how slippery I was but I did not give a shit.
“Yeah, exactly.” I put my hand over his, and he closed his eyes and grunted. “Or you can go out there and have one of those young women that was drooling all over you…”
“No,” he said pushing my hand away. “Will we fuck whether you win or not?”
I shrugged and took his hand. I took him to the plush couch, where there was a bucket with two bottles of champagne and hors d’oeuvres on the glass table.
I did not bother to pull my dress down, and sat bare-assed on the leather couch. Henry sat beside me, and caressed my thigh.
“If we can’t…can we do something else? To tide me over?”
Henry pulled off my dress. I sat with spread legs in just my ivory corset and patterned pumps, and looked at him.
“What number is your lot?”
“You are lying!”
I handed him the catalog from the glass table.
“Sixty-nine…” he said. “Can I lick you once for each lot?”
“Where?” I leaned forward.
Henry leaned forward, I leaned back on the pillows. I heard the hammer go down. The auction was about to begin.
When he got between my legs and came to kiss me at my hunger mark, I felt like Anne Sexton’s poem, “Barefoot.”
I nodded and let him lick me sixty-eight times. But I sat up when they got to lot sixty-nine. I picked up the phone, and crossed my legs. Henry frowned. I shooed him away, as I told the head of the photography department my bid. She tried to run it up, but there were only a few fervent bidders. I did not want to go over $10,000. I had done my research.
But I wanted it, and would go over. I did not come here…well I had not come in that way yet and I had not here to not win.
The hammer went down.
“Sold! To a private bidder!”
I watched with a smile as the auctioneer wrote down my number that was whispered to him. Henry parted my legs, and he licked me once more.
“I won,” I said, and the excitement of the bidding and his tongue made me come.
I stood up, pulled my dress over my head and took a final sip of my champagne. Henry got up with me, took my hand.
My hair was mussed, and Henry was hard. Everyone looked at us.
“Congratulations Ms. Ross!” The young woman who had led me to the private room smiled at me again, knowingly.
I smiled at her, knew she wondered what was behind my dark shaded eyes.
Dark thoughts she could not dream, and Henry squeezed my hand with knowing.
Find more corsetry here:
jeanloup sieff’s corset via duck duck go images