Blacked Megan Rain Mr M Part 1
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KimberlyChapter 4 free porn video
Brad Kramer — William Bradley Kramer, Jr. — had taken a position to the side of the platform and as far back as he thought would be reasonable. He wanted to be in a position close enough to the platform for his bids to register, but at the same time — for no good reason — he wanted to be out of the sight line of the people on the stage, the girls being auctioned off, and one girl in particular.
Brad was 29 years old. He had his MBA from University of California in marketing, and had been with Aerospace Technologies for three years. Prior to his graduate work at Cal, he had been a lieutenant in the Army Rangers. From his very first day at AT, he had been its top salesman. (His leading position resulted from having made a sale on his very first sales call.) At six feet three with sandy hair and brilliant blue eyes, he was very attractive to women and knew it. The result had been his ability to date virtually any female who took his fancy. He had exercised this ability frequently with countless young women over the years.
Today was shaping up to be different, though. Beginning in the afternoon the day before, there had been an increasing buzz around the company about the most gorgeous female creature on two legs, Candace Kane, along with the information that, not only did she work for AT, she was single and would be attending the company picnic. Brad was determined that he was going to buy in that girl.
Using his B-school background, he researched the way the auction was going to work, as well as the auction’s history from prior picnics. He learned that the all-time record was a bid of $125; most winning bids were less than $50. Notwithstanding, given the buzz around the plant, he was confident that Candace Kane was about to set a new record, and from the eager looks on the faces of the young men who were beginning to gather in anticipation of the auction, the old record stood not just to be broken but to be shattered.
So far, his expectations were being realized.
Finally, the girls were assembled at the back of the stage. It was an all-purpose platform that served variously as a bandstand, a dance floor, and for whatever else groups renting the facility might use a level wood floor. The master of ceremonies came forward and wasted no time in getting the program underway.
“As most of you already know,” he began, “all the money raised today goes into the company’s recreation fund. Personally, I’m looking forward to a helluva Christmas party, so I hope you guys brought lots of money with you.” He paused and then continued, “That reminds me ... There are really only two ground rules in this auction: First, it is strictly cash: no credit cards, and especially, no checks. Second, any guy making a winning bid who is unable to come up with the cash is fined 20 percent of his bid, and the young lovely goes to the next highest remaining bidder.”
Again he paused and looked over the large group of single men crowding around the front edge of the stage. Arrayed around them was an even larger group of husbands and wives and dating couples assembled to watch the proceedings. “Okay! Does anyone have any questions about the way this auction is going to work?” He looked all around, but only saw the eager looks of the guys waiting for him to begin.
“Will the young lady with disk #1 come forward, please?” he asked, turning back toward the girls.
Dacey swallowed hard and came forward. She murmured her name to the auctioneer who announced, “The first girl to be auctioned is Candace Kane. Although Dacey has been with the company for several years, it’s my understanding that this is her very first company picnic, so I hope you’ll all be nice to her.”
Dacey instantly had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was almost certain that she was being set up. But set up for what? In the first place, she remembered that Trudy Morrison had given her disk #1. Moreover, she had the number in her hand; she hadn’t drawn it from a box or anything.
Second, how did the auctioneer know that she was now calling herself Dacey? And how did he know how long she had been with the company or that this was her first picnic? All she had told him was her name, Candace Kane. Something was going on, but what?
It’s a good thing, she thought, that I’m moving. Otherwise, she was certain that everyone would see her knees knocking. Standing beside the auctioneer, she got her first good look at the crowd. There, immediately in front of the stage, was the eager, leering Si Goodman. Oh, Lord! she thought. Not him!
Goodman was about five feet eight — shorter than Dacey — but must have weighed north of 250 pounds. Moreover, just from looking at him with a beer bottle in his hand, it was clear to her that it was certainly not his first of the day. Already he appeared to be three sheets to the wind, and it was still not even eleven o’clock.
“Well, guys,” the auctioneer began, “this is our first young lovely of the day. And isn’t she beautiful? Good grief!” He paused for a moment and then mused, “Wonder if I could get a decent trade-in on my wife and get into the bidding myself?”
He chuckled and then continued, “Our first girl is Candace Kane, Dacey to her friends. Her face and figure? Well, you can see that for yourself. What you can’t see, though, is that in that gorgeous head is possibly the most powerful brain in the whole company. Dacey is a mechanical engineer, and possibly the best machine designer and engineer in the world! So listen up, guys! The guy who gets her had better be very nice to her. The whole future of the company is on her lovely shoulders!”
Dacey didn’t know what was expected, but she stood up straight and said, “I know I’m not much to look at—”
She was immediately interrupted by a chorus of boos and raucous laughter. One guy shouted, “You’ll do unless Bo Derek puts in an appearance!”
Truly, she was stunned by the reaction. What’s wrong with these people? she wondered. They have eyes. They can see what a nothing I am.
But trying to ignore the interruption she continued, “—but I’m in pretty good shape for a girl. I mean ... I work out and all. And ... and ... and I even have my own golf clubs and tennis racket so you’ll save money by not having to rent equipment for me. And ... and ... I’ll really try to be a good date for the winner today.”
The auctioneer took a deep breath and said, “Okay ... Now you all heard from Dacey. Who’s going to make the first bid?”
The bidding began with bids coming from all around. In no time, with the bid increments of five and ten dollars, bidding was north of $250. At that point things slowed down, but Si Goodman was still very much in the game.
Brad Kramer had selected his position well, although he really didn’t know why he had. But for some reason, he didn’t want Dacey to be able to see him. For that purpose, his position was perfect. He was standing to the auctioneer’s right side, with Dacey to his left. The auctioneer’s position prevented her from seeing him.
As the bidding climbed, Brad smiled to himself. What was happening was what he had expected to happen based on what he had learned at the office the previous afternoon. Si Goodman, braggart that he was, had been telling anyone who would listen that he was going to have Dacey Kane as his date, regardless. He even brandished around a roll of $100 bills, claiming that he was going to get her if it took $1,500. For that reason Brad had $2,200 in cash with him, far more than he ever carried. Dream on, Si, he thought.
Brad’s most recent bid was the one for $250. There was silence, and then the auctioneer declared, “The bid is $250. Do I hear more? Going once ... Going twice...”
“Five-hundred dollars!” exclaimed Goodman.
“Six hundred,” Brad immediately responded.
“One-thousand dollars!” Goodman shouted, although he was only a few feet away from the auctioneer.
“Eleven hundred,” responded Brad with a wave of his hand.
At that point Goodman realized he was in trouble. Although Dacey couldn’t see Brad, Goodman certainly could. Moreover, knowing that Brad Kramer was a bachelor and the highest-earning salesman in the company, he realized that Kramer had a lot more money to spare than he did. At that point he changed his tactics. Giving up on his ambition to escort Dacey — and fuck her if he possibly could — he decided that he would just run the bidding up to make it as expensive for Kramer as he could.
“Thirteen hundred!” Goodman exclaimed.
“Fifteen hundred,” Brad immediately responded.
“Seventeen hundred!” Goodman immediately reacted.
At that point Brad was on the horns of a dilemma. He was sure that $1,700 was more money than Goodman had, but was he that sure? He decided to take a chance and remained silent.
“I hear seventeen-hundred dollars,” the auctioneer said, getting back into the action. “Do I hear more? The bid is seventeen-hundred dollars from Simon Goodman. More? Going once ... Going twice...” With a thump of his gavel on the rostrum, he declared, “Sold to Simon Goodman for seventeen-hundred dollars.”
At that point Dacey felt ill. She was doomed to spend the rest of the day with this drunken slob!
From his vantage point to the side, Brad called out, “It’s not over until the bid is paid ... in cash. Can we see Si’s money?”
What Brad had noticed with a feeling of triumph was the sick look on Si’s face just before the gavel came down. His information was correct and he had won his gamble: It was more money than Simon had.
“He’s right, Si,” the auctioneer said. “Now let’s see your cash.”
At this point Si’s general obnoxiousness did him in. He tried to borrow $200 from the others, but was greeted by stony silence. One woman summarized the feelings of the group succinctly: “If you think I’m going to lend you money so you can inflict yourself on this utterly gorgeous girl, you’re crazy as hell. No way! In fact, no fucking way!”
Her remarks had been made with no effort to keep her voice down. Her response was greeted by cheers from the people standing around.
“Time’s up, Si,” the auctioneer declared. “Pay up.”
“I ... I can’t,” Si admitted. Then he blurted, “I was just trying to get more money out of Brad Kramer.”
“You know the rules, Si,” the auctioneer said. “If you can’t cover your bid, you’re penalized $340. Let’s have it, and thank you from the Recreation Committee. Your contribution is cheerfully accepted.”
Goodman paid up and then slunk away from the stage.
“Okay, folks,” the auctioneer said, returning to his job. “The seventeen-hundred dollar bid couldn’t be covered. The prior bid was fifteen-hundred from Brad Kramer. Brad?”
Brad easily moved through the crowd whose members parted to give him room to get to the stage. As he did, he pulled the roll of cash from his pocket and began to count out fifteen of his hundred-dollar bills.
Going to the edge of the stage, he fanned out fifteen bills and passed them to the auctioneer. He quickly verified the count and then said, “Brad, you’ve got yourself a date. And she’s the loveliest thing I’ve seen in years.”
Dacey was in a daze. She was in such a state of shock, she never even noticed who it was who had bid her in. She only knew that his name was Brad Kramer, but she had no idea what a Brad Kramer was. Not realizing that the only stairs up to the stage were at its rear, she just moved blindly forward to the edge of the stage. When she reached it, Brad reached up, put his hands around her slender waist, effortlessly lifted her off the stage and gently deposited her on the ground.
“Hi, Dacey,” he said. “I’m Brad Kramer.”
She looked up at his handsome face and then just reached out to hug him. “Thank you so much,” she murmured, “for saving me from that creep.”
“How about some coffee?” he asked. “The auction will be going for a while yet.”
Coffee was being served in the food area. While walking toward it, Dacey found her hand in Brad’s. Just being held in his hand felt so good! The two got cups and then sat on a picnic bench with their backs to the table of which the bench was a part.
“What now?” Dacey asked. “Do you know what the schedule is?”
Brad snapped his fingers and then went off to the registration table. While he was picking up a schedule, Trudy Morrison said softly, “Congratulations, Brad. Connie and I were hoping it would be you. Candace Kane is utterly gorgeous and a real class act. I think you two are going to have a really great time together.”
Returning to Dacey, he mused at the comment. It appeared as if the whole damned company was out to get Dacey and him together. Well, I’m in favor of that, too, he thought.
The schedule proved to be quite elaborate. The pairings were done in a combination of names and numbers. The names were those of married couples and those with dates; the numbers were those of the girls being auctioned off. They learned that their sequence was the three-legged race followed by nine holes of golf, then horseshoes and finally tennis.
“Do we ever get to eat?” Dacey asked with a grin. “I’m so damned scrawny already, I don’t have any spare pounds to give away.”
“Scrawny? Hah!” Brad commented. “But on the other hand, you’re sure not carrying any extra weight, either. Dacey Kane, you have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen.”
She ignored the comment. What was strange to her was that after finishing their coffee, the two had shifted on the bench so they were somewhat facing each other. Again they were holding hands, but this time both hands, yet neither was aware of it. For some unknown reason, each told the other his or her life story.
“I served with the Rangers in Vietnam,” Brad finally blurted.
“I’m sorry it ended the way it did,” Dacey said sympathetically. “You guys did everything ever asked of you, but we bailed out anyway.”
“What did you say?” Brad responded incredulously. Every girl he had met previously had recoiled in horror at the idea that he had fought in Vietnam.
“Look,” Dacey explained, “when all the ruckus was going on on campus, I was usually in an engineering lab. But I wasn’t dead. You were absolutely right. At the time I thought we were doing the right thing. After seeing what happened afterward in Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam, it should be obvious to everyone we were doing the right thing.” She looked into Brad’s blue eyes and felt her heart roll over as she added, “The mission of the army is to kill people and break things. I hope you did a good job of it.”
“I came out of it with a little hardware,” Brad admitted.
“Like what?” she persisted.
“The DSC, Silver Star and Purple Heart,” he murmured.
“Distinguished Service Cross?” she asked.
He just nodded his head.
“My God!” she murmured, “I have a date with a certified hero!” Then with her eyes wide she added, “Bradley Kramer, I’m so damned proud of you right now, I can’t stand it!” With that she moved across the few inches separating them and kissed him gently full on the lips.
It was just a quick little kiss, but it rocked her to her shoes. And it did the same to Brad.
Not knowing what to do about it, they did nothing. Instead they slowly strolled hand in hand to retrieve their sports equipment from their respective cars. He insisted on carrying both golf bags while she giggled and carried the two tennis rackets, making a big thing of the weight she was carrying.
Neither noticed that they continued to hold hands as they went toward the site of the three-legged race. “I guess that’s one advantage we might have,” she commented. “A lot of my height is in my legs, so maybe I’ll be able to keep up with you okay.”
“And a truly lovely pair of legs they are, too,” he responded.
A short time later, the first group of racers assembled. It turned out that there was a little more to it than the schedule had indicated. They were in the first flight, but there were fourteen flights. What the schedule didn’t show was that the winner of each flight met later in the day in a head-to-head final race.
In the event, it was no contest. Although Brad’s legs were longer, the difference between them wasn’t very great. With her right leg tied to his left with bandanas at the thigh and ankle, they just strode off leaving the competition behind.
Moving on to the golf course, they found that it was set for a shotgun start. Two couples were positioned at each of the nine tees and everyone started together. The format was a scramble in which both players hit every shot. However, after each shot — including putts — they selected the best-positioned ball and both played their next shot from that position. For Brad and Dacey, it couldn’t have been better. He was much longer, but she was more accurate. As a result, they found themselves always playing from his tee shot, and occasionally his second, but playing off her shots close in. It turned out that she had an incredible putting eye.
This, she thought, resulted from playing almost all of my rounds on a par-3 course close to the apartment.
Brad realized that Dacey’s touch was near-perfect close in, so he always took the first putt. To Dace’s cheers, he even sank one long one. Far more often, though, she would be crouched low well behind his ball as he took their first putt. Regardless of the length, in every case except one she made the necessary correction when she took her turn and sank hers.
For his part, Brad found he loved to watch Dacey swing a golf club. She said her body was scrawny, but it was anything but. She was a slender girl, and yet he realized that she had astonishing muscle development. Her golf swing was straight from an instructional video: very smooth, very controlled, and very powerful. Her power was concentrated at the point of her club’s impact with the ball. His applause for her shot was always returned with a quick but very happy grin.
The result was an 8-under-par 28 for their nine holes. Brad felt that they had iced the golf competition.
After the golf, they found a spot of shade and just lay down to continue the process of getting to know one another. They learned that they both were Los Angeles Rams and Dodger fans. Brad was astonished to learn that Dace routinely spent her Sunday afternoons during football season watching the Rams. He had met girls in the past who professed to watch pro football, but Dacey was the first girl who really did. He knew she really did when he discovered her encyclopedic knowledge of Rams players, both present and past, along with their relevant statistics.
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