A Bookstore Fantasy

She delighted in the sharp indrawn breaths, the stares, the feeble attempts at striking up a conversation. Just for fun, she’d stopped by the bookstore, because she had some time to kill before meeting her best friend at a bar to play their favorite game. That game was “Tease the Boys,” and she was hoping to rack up some extra points by starting early. Early, and with a crowd that might be deemed less susceptible than a bunch of drunk guys at a club. These were literary guys!

She was dressed in short skirt that just barely covered her thigh highs and garter. Her blouse was sheer, and her thin bra hid little. She had browsed the bestsellers for a bit, bending to see something on the bottom shelf when a particularly stuffy, or middle-aged guy was standing near. She soon grew bored of that. Too many wives and girlfriends, huffing and puffing with indignation, pulling their men to safety. She overheard, as she was intended to, a snide comment. In response, she placed her stiletto-heeled foot on the third shelf of the rack, and adjusted her stocking, laughing as Ms. Offended dragged her leering boyfriend off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She wandered upstairs to the Sexuality section. She sighed. Not much going on there. She was bored now, but still had some time to kill. She decided she’d grab a magazine and have a cappuccino in the coffee shop. As she turned, a young man appeared at the end of the aisle, as if he were a vision she conjured. He was tall, and lean, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was dressed casually in a plaid cotton button down shirt, and a pair of jeans. She looked up at him and smiled. He didn’t respond, until she waved her hand in front of her chest, and motioned, palm up, that he should lift his gaze. She was absolutely delighted when she saw a deep flush spread over his cheeks.

“Oh, yummy,” she thought. He was shy, too!  She turned sideways and reached up toward the top shelf, making sure her skirt rose high on her thighs. Failing to reach the top shelf, as she’d known and planned, she turned back to face him.

“You’re so tall,” she purred. “Do you think you could reach that book on the top shelf for me?”

“Oh, sure, of course,” he said, dragging his eyes away from her. “Which one?”

“That one there, babe. How to please a man.” He blushed again, but reached up and grabbed the book in question. He didn’t seem to know where to look as he handed it to her. “Thank you,” she said. She flipped the book open and pretended to read, but just made it up as she went along.

“According to this book,” she said, “a man is very pleased when a woman kneels in front of him and reaches for his belt.” She paused and licked her lips, glancing up to see how he was doing. He was rooted to the floor. Good. She looked back at the pages and continued. “He likes it if she unbuckles the belt, then unbuttons his jeans, and pulls down the zipper.”

Again, she looked up, meeting his eyes. “Is that true? Does that sound right?” she asked. “You’re a man, so you must know.”

He stared at her for a minute. “Poor baby,” she thought.

“Next, it says I should inch your jeans down over your hips…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He continued to stare. She slammed the book closed. He jumped. “Obviously none of this is right!”

“No,” he said, finally finding his voice, “it all sounds about right.

She turned her back to him, and bent from the waist, knowing her stockings and garter, and a generous glimpse of her ass would be visible to him. She pretended to look at the books on the bottom shelf. She knew he had moved closer when she felt the heat from his body behind her. She straightened and stepped backwards. Her body grazed his, and she could feel his breath on neck. She moved her hips suggestively against him. His arms slipped around her waist, and he pulled her tight against him. She could feel he was hard through his jeans.

“I could teach you how to please a man, if you want,” he said softly in her ear.

She shivered with delight when his hands reached up and caressed her breasts through her flimsy attire. She rubbed her ass against him, and heard a low, deep sigh escape his lips. She reached up and took one of his hands – only one, because she liked the feel of his hands on her tits, and slowly guided it down. Over her stomach, lower still, until his hand was right between her thighs. As sexy as this was, they would have to find somewhere at least a little more private. She moaned softly, then grasped both his hands firmly and turned in his embrace.

“Kiss me,” she said.

He readily obliged. Her arms snaked up around his broad shoulders, as he leaned into her. She heard a small sound of pleasure escape from her throat when his lips met hers. His kiss was hot and soft. It felt like a small fire burning, just a prelude to the flames that would soon envelop her. He grabbed her ass and pulled her tight against him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The kiss continued, as the intensity of their passion grew. She was trying to think where they could go – maybe the bathroom? Maybe her car? Maybe she would just take him home! He was so perfect, and she wanted to enjoy him. When her phone beeped, he stopped kissing her. He pulled away.

“Shit,” she said, reaching into her purse for her phone. “See you there in 20 minutes,” the text from her friend read.

“Damn. Look, baby, I’ve got somewhere I have to be.”

He looked so disappointed. So was she!

A thought occurred to her. “You know what? I’m just meeting a friend for drinks. Why don’t you come with me? We can get to know each other a little better,” she said, and winked at him. She reached out and ran a hand over the front of jeans.

“Oh,” he said, suddenly shy again.  “I don’t know…”

“Babe. Life is only an adventure if you make it one,” she said. “I’ll let you drive my sexy sports car.” She pulled her keys out of her purse and dangled them in front of him. “And remember what we were just reading about…”

Share:

One thought on “A Bookstore Fantasy”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *