I pushed open the door to a used bookshop, stepping in off the cobblestone street, and heard the *ding* of a bell overhead. Flecks of dust sparkled in the rays of afternoon sunshine peeking through the storefront windows.
It was quiet in the shop — no music — just the low hum of the fans as they swiveled and gently swept air among the stacks of books. I could smell a slight mustiness from the old books, and I took a deep breath, delighting in the coziness of this bookshop.
As I wound my way slowly through the maze of bookshelves, my gaze slid over the spines of the books. I paused here and there to touch the pages of a particularly old book, or one with an enticing title.
Finally standing at the back of the bookstore, I set my purse on the floor and started fingering through the book I’d plucked — mesmerized by the surprisingly explicit and erotic drawings from a bygone era that I found within.
A creak of the floorboards pulled my attention out of the book and to the man who appeared out of the dust on my left.
I kept my eyes glued to the pages, while observing his approach in my peripheral vision. I was hoping he would pass by without noticing the images. I subtly adjusted the angle of the book in my hands.
Yet, he stopped. I glanced up to see his eyes softly looking upon the book in my hands, and then up to my face. I tried to act cool.
“How do you like it?” he asked.
I could feel heat rise in my face, and I hoped it didn’t show. His eyes were locked upon my face, taking me in.
“Interesting”, I replied vaguely, still hoping he was just checking in to see if I was finding everything to my satisfaction. Hoping he didn’t notice the specific section with the gaping hole of where the book in my hands had been. Perhaps he might think I had a book from the poetry section above.
“It is indeed.” He paused – I stood staring into his eyes, searching for his meaning, and searching for what to say next. I gently closed the book on my finger to hold the page.
“However, I find this one” — as he spoke, he reached past me and took a book from the shelf — “…much more… stimulating” — he finished, handing it to me.
I was definitely blushing now — there was a burning sensation in my face… and below. I looked intently at the book he’d placed in my hands, nervous to look up. He was so close to me now. I detected a fresh scent, distinct from the old books surrounding us.
“Looks like quite a, um, rousing tale” I mustered, feigning confidence now that my indulgence was no longer a secret. I tilted my head a tiny bit and looked up.
…
(To be continued)
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/k8fvc5/booklovers_part_1