Page 2 of Mr. July

An old country jam played in the background as the auctioneer started the auction. What the hell was I supposed to do? Stand there looking like a fool?

“I’m feeling frisky here, much like I imagine Mr. July is. Let’s start the bidding high, shall we?”

“One hundred.” A woman in the front row held up her auction number.

The auctioneer did his standard Can I get a hundred and a quarter spiel, trying to increase the bids, and much to my surprise, women were actually bidding on me. I made eye contact with one woman who was with a group of other women, and I winked.

Her paddle flew into the air. “Two twenty-five.”

I laughed. I loosened my shoulders and rotated my hips, getting into the groove of the music. The crowd loved it. Women were yelling at me to do more, but shit, there wasn’t much more I could do. I was already half-naked, and it wasn’t like I had the Magic Mike touch.

“Five hundred fifty dollars.”

My eyes searched the new bid. Five hundred fifty? I didn’t think I would pay that much to hang out with myself. I scanned the now semiquiet crowd, looking for the bidder.

The auctioneer droned on, asking for more bids. Finally, it was like the sea parted, and she walked out. Her chocolate locks floated around her face and down beyond her chest. Expectedly, she was wearing a white tank top and denim shorts, where one pocket had red and white stripes and the other had white stars on a blue background, both of which were hanging out past the short shorts.

She was breathtaking.

“Sold! For five hundred fifty dollars, young lady. Mr. July is all yours.”

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