Reflexively, she criss-crossed her hands in front of her pubis, blocking my view.  Her modesty amused me.  Maybe it was part of her game.
I decided to play along with her.  "Are you shy, Laurie?"

     "Yes," she half-whispered.

     "We're both girls, you needn't be.  Didn't I let you look between my legs earlier?"

     Her face reddened, remembering.  "But you were wearing panties.  I'm naked there now.  And I hardly know you.  I'm scared." read the rest now...

     I leaned forward even more, putting my left hand behind her back for support, while I moved my right hand beneath the hem of her skirt, and then
upward, forcing the front of her skirt to rise in the crook of my arm as I planted my fingers in the crotch of her pantyhose.  I could feel the warmth
of her breath on the side of my neck.      "OH!" she cried, bringing her thighs close together to capture my hand between them as soon as she felt my hand reach the "V' of her hot crotch.  Yes, the crotch was hot.  Not warm.  Hot!  Moisture had already seeped from her sex through her panties and hose.  I pressed upward into the meaty tissues, then urged my middle finger into the divide of the soft lips, just at the outside her vaginal entrance.  She moaned passionately as I pressed inward with my finger, forcing her panty crotch slightly into her vagina.

     I grabbed a handful of her sex and squeezed it tightly with my hand, read the rest now...

     My heart was pounding a mile a minute the night I met Laurie.  Or I guess you could say the night I "bought" Laurie.  I had heard about the slave auctions at one of the famous S&M clubs in downtown New York City on a Friday night.  I went there not knowing what to expect.  There were an
awful lot of weird characters there and I really felt out of place.   I mean, a girl really shouldn't be in a place like that.  The men made passes at me; the women looked at me like I was competition for them.

There were three girls available for auction that night.  After seeing the first two, who looked like they had been worked over by a steam shovel, my anticipation dwindled.  But when Laurie came up to the stage, my heart leaped out!  There she was, the girl of my dreams--petite, blonde, blue-eyed, pug-nosed.  Innately shy.  Not a day over 20.  She never raised her head, not once, while the auctioneer rattled off the cadence of numbers.

At $250 there were three bidders left.  At $325 just two.  I ended up buying her for $400, only after convincing the auctioneer to raise her skirt up,
showing us a dainty pair of white panties beneath her tan-colored pantyhose, and then to open her blouse half-way, exposing a lacy, white bra and what appeared to be a pair of very well-formed breasts.  

She blushed profusely as she was led to me from the dais, her head still lowered.  I wondered what kind of girl would allow herself to be sold as a slave to a perfect stranger, to another girl.  "I live in Jersey," I half-whispered, my heart racing.  "My car is outside."  "You have to promise me one thing," she said in an obviously nervous manner.

     "What's that?" read the rest now...