The old bookstore was one I had never been to before. Their website stated they housed a collection of rare first edition novels and even autographed books. Of course, I couldn’t afford anything inside, but I wanted to be with them for a little while. Just to look. It had just started to rain as I ducked under the awing and through the doorway. The musty smell of old paper tickled my nose, and I inhaled deeply.
My flirty little skirt sprinkled raindrops on the carpet, making me smile shyly at the older man behind the counter. He chuckled and shrugged, suggesting I not worry about it. It was just water, after all, he said.
Finding The Edition
Drifting down the aisles of books, my fingertips trickled over the handcrafted spines. Some made of leather, others of canvas, most hardbound, and all very old. Near the back of the store is where I found him. In a dim corner, lit only by a floor lamp near an overstuffed chair. He was reading, or so it appeared. I could tell he was watching me.
I could feel him eyeing the seam in the back of my stockings and I could feel the heat of his gaze as it flowed upward to inspect my thin waist and how my breasts filled out my top. When I looked at him, his eyes dropped back to his pages, but I knew he was still observing me.
I swallowed tightly. His salt and pepper hair told me he was older. The relaxed way he wore his suit suggested he was used to being in it. The book in his hand was thick, with wrinkled edges…expensive. He seemed expensive. Just the kind of man who would be able to give me the books I wanted but couldn’t afford.
My index finger plucked the tip of a book’s spine. It tumbled to the carpeted floor with a soft thud that caught the eye of my admirer. Without glancing back, I turned enough so that when I bent to pick up the book, my skirt would lift enough to expose the lace tops of my stockings. Impossible for him to miss. Hearing him shift in the chair behind me was a good sign. Finally, someone was getting an eyeful.
Securing The Edition
As I straightened, I felt him behind me. So close that I could feel the heat of him against my back. His arms came around me, and he stroked the front cover of the book I was holding. He tracked the twenty-two karat gold accent and spoke near my ear. “Pygmalion. First edition.” He made a humming sound and then, “Pricey.”
My head turned enough to feel his breath on my cheek. “Way out of my budget.”
“Shame.” He turned the book over in my hands, and we both looked at the price tag. Almost three hundred dollars. “Maybe, I could help.” I grinned up at him and started walking him backwards toward that chair where Id first noticed him.
He sat, and I straddled him. The expensive first edition between us. His fingers slipped up my thighs, toying with the tops of the stockings. I opened the book, dividing the pages, and he tilted to fetch his wallet from his pants. He pulled out three crisp one hundred dollar bills and placed them like a bookmark in the middle.
Our eyes met as I closed the book and set it on the side table. I pulled the cord to the floor lamp, plunging us in darkness. “Is that all you want?” He asked while squeezing my thighs. I shook my head then he spanked my ass playfully. “Show me what else you want.”
Pleasure in the Pages
I scurried off his lap and knew exactly what I wanted. I walked quickly, knowing he was watching, to the autographed section. Grabbing the signed, hardcover copy of the first book I ever fell in love with and then climbed back in his lap. “Show me.” He cooed hands back on my upper thighs.
I smiled. “It’s a naughty book.”
“Naughty?” He took the book from me and turned it over in his hands. Then, watching my face, he slid the book under my skirt. My hands gripped his shoulder while he drew the corner of the cover softly over my panties. Right, where my throbbing clit was pulsing. “You sure this is the one you want?”
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