Highest Bidder
“Sold! For three thousand dollars,” Darla Harrison heard the auctioneer exclaim at the same time she heard the slam of the gavel on the podium. She couldn’t believe it. Of all the women who had volunteered to be auctioned off as dates for the charity auction, she had commanded the highest price by far.
“Not bad for an old broad going on fifty,” Darla thought as the newspaper photographer’s cameras flashed and television videographers pushed their way to the front of the room for a better shot. A reporter for the local TV news shoved a microphone at her and Darla tried to keep smiling and saying the right things in response to his questions.
The Mayor, who had acted as auctioneer for the event, then dispersed the media and introduced Darla to the man who had placed the winning bid for a date with her. She was dumbstruck for a second as she realized he was the city’s most prolific and dynamic real estate developer, Bradley Starke. He had taken over his father’s rather nondescript contracting business at age 18 and less than ten years later he was the wealthiest and most successful man in town.
Darla tried to smile graciously and not blush as she shook hands with Brad. She couldn’t fathom why he had chosen her, of all the so-called high society women who had participated in the event, as the woman he would bid for. Oh, sure, she was a rich widow and her inheritance had enabled her to access the very best plastic surgery in the world so she looked as stunning as any of the younger women had tonight, but Brad Starke had more money than all of them put together, so gold digging certainly wasn’t his motivation.
“Mrs. Harrison,” the handsome business mogul addressed her. “I’m looking forward to our date Friday. May I call for you around eight?” he said with an enticing smile.
“That would be fine, Mr. Starke,” she replied, “And please call me Darla.”
“Only if you’ll call me Brad,” he answered. “Friday at eight it is, then.”
Two nights later, promptly at eight o’clock, Brad arrived at Darla’s estate in his limo. She met the driver at the door and was escorted to the car. The driver opened the car door and she climbed in and took a seat beside Brad.
“Good evening, Darla,” he said, “You look fabulous.”
Darla was pleased at the comment because she had taken every possible measure to look her best tonight. And, she noticed, Brad Starke also looked elegant in his evening wear. The car headed down her driveway to the highway that led into town and Brad fixed them cocktails.
“Brad, I have to ask you,” Darla said after sipping her drink, “Why on Earth, of all the gorgeous young women available at the auction, did you decide to bid for a date with me. I mean, frankly, I am old enough to be your mother.”
He laughed in response, “Well, I could be flip and say it’s because you were the best looking woman there, which by the way, is perfectly true, but as to my motivation, you already answered your own question.”
“What do you mean,” Darla asked, a bit puzzled.
“I chose you because you ARE old enough to be my mother,” he replied. “You see, Darla, I’m young and filthy rich and am constantly bombarded by advances from young women who are caught up in the fantasy of finding their handsome prince.”
Darla nodded as he continued. “I don’t think I’ve had a real date since high school. You probably know my dad died the summer I graduated and instead of going off to college I took over the family business and have done pretty well for myself with it. To be blunt, most of my dates over the years since then have been with women with things other than a relationship on their minds.”
Brad took a long drink from his glass. “You, on the other hand, in addition to being both beautiful and independently wealthy and well respected in the community, are going out with me tonight as the result of you contributing to a worthy cause. You’re mature and intelligent, and I think we’ll have a fabulous date.”
And, they did. A show at the theatre named for Brad and then dinner at one of the three restaurants he owned uptown. Later they enjoyed drinks and dancing at the trendiest jazz club in town. The young self-made billionaire was absolutely charming, bright, witty, and an absolute joy to be around. It was past two in the morning when Brad asked Darla to accompany him back to his townhouse. When the date had begun she had certainly not even considered the fact it would lead to anything remotely intimate, but now she wasn’t so sure that would be a bad idea.
Brad had let the staff go for the night in anticipation of having Darla as an overnight guest. He put on some music and made them drinks before joining her on the sitting room sofa. Before long, kissing turned to touching and Darla was ready to take the plunge with this wonderful young man, regardless of the difference in their ages.
“Darla,” he asked after breaking from a deep soulful kiss, “May I ask something of you?”
“Of course you can, Brad,” she answered, breathlessly.
“Before we make love, would you spank me?” he said, totally serious in his tone.
A bit giddy from the evening’s drinks, Darla responded playfully, “Why, Brad? Have you been a bad boy?”
“Oh, yes,” he replied with a gleam, encouraged by her response to his request, “I’ve been such a bad boy. I’ve been having very dirty thoughts about you all evening and deserve to be punished.”
“Well, then, young man,” Darla said sternly, “You’d better stand up and pull your pants down and get over my knee.”
Darla pulled the hem of her dress up to the top of her thighs baring her lap as Brad stood and lowered his trousers and shorts. His cock was fully erect and visibly twitching before her eyes. Brad lowered himself over her knees, his bare backside up in the air and his throbbing erection between the soft, tender skin of Darla’s inner thighs. It felt delightfully hot against her flesh and she could feel it pulsing long and thick with desire.
Suddenly, Darla slapped one of his buttocks soundly with her palm. The crack resonated through the large room. “Ohhh…” he groaned loudly and Darla felt his cock expand in the tight grasp of her thighs. Seeing the faint red imprint she had left on his cheek, she then slapped the other one and elicited similar results. “Oh, Mommy,” Brad cried, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“You naughty, naughty boy,” Darla intoned, spanking him again several times, “It’s very bad for you to be thinking about doing those things to me. Maybe this will teach you a lesson,” she said, spanking his now crimson buttocks faster and harder.
With each slap Brad grinded his pelvis hard against her lap. Then his entire body contracted in a series of spasms and Darla felt hot wet gushes of juice moistening her inner thighs as he came, his bulging cock trapped between her legs as she continued to spank him.
Whimpering, Brad crawled from her lap onto the floor before her and began to lap the residue of his cum from her skin. Her reached under her dress and tugged her panties down and off her legs and then began to tenderly lick and suck Darla’s damp warm pussy. He ate her for what seemed like hours until she too came repeatedly.
After Darla had recovered somewhat from the intensity of her orgasm, Brad stood. Opening her eyes Darla was astounded that his prick again stood at full attention so soon after the powerful orgasm he had experienced earlier. “I think I’d like to fuck you now, Darla,” he said, once again the confident business mogul.
Darla smiled seductively in anticipation of being ridden by this young buck as he continued, “But, if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to be on top… I’m still a little sore…”
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