bookshop-erotica
EROTIC COUPLINGS

Bookshop Erotica

Bookshop Erotica

by pussrider
7 min read
4.55 (6000 views)
adultfiction
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My name's Michael, and I own a bookshop in a small university town. It's far from those brightly lit book warehouses you see these days, my place is quite small, a bit quirky, and I specialise in books you're less likely to find in the big stores. I don't have what you might call a roaring trade, but I get by on some regular clients and online sales.

One of my semi-regular visitors was a female student. I can't really call her a customer as she never actually bought anything, but I consider it bad business practice to chase browsers away. She never said a word to me, just took the stairs to the upper floor, stayed perhaps half an hour then left. I noticed her because of her quite striking looks. I don't think many objective observers would call her pretty: I estimated she was about 20 years old, five-feet-five or so and chubby, with shoulder length brown hair, thick eyebrows, a wide nose, fleshy lips, and an unfortunate purple rash on one side of her face, from forehead to throat. She was busty though, and appeared to have shapely legs under the black skirt and woollen tights she habitually wore. Not that I'm any glamour model -- I'm 48, tall and spare with receding salt and pepper hair and glasses.

By about her third visit, always on a Friday afternoon, I wondered what she was doing upstairs. I have discreet cameras up there, to detect pilfering, and I had a look. I found the girl in the Victorian section, perched in a window nook. There among the Wilkie Collins, George Gissings and so on there's a small collection of vintage erotica -- nothing pornographic, mostly of the bodice ripper variety. What I saw amazed me -- the young woman was engrossed in a slim volume, with one hand down the waistband of her skirt, her fingers clearly moving rapidly.

My first thought was to storm up there and kick her out, but...well, the sight was quite arousing. I've been divorced for five years and I haven't had the pleasure of intimate female company since. As I watched her, I realised that the palm of one of my hands had started stroking my rapidly stiffening cock through my trousers. After a minute or so the girl suddenly gasped, dropped the book and began wildly thrashing her head around, as the hand inside her skirt went into overdrive and her other hand roughly gripped one of her boobs. I found myself breathing heavily too. After a short recovery, she tidied her clothing, hand brushed her hair then, her face still flushed, descended the stairs and left the shop without a glance in my direction.

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On the girl's next visit I watched her on camera from the moment she climbed the stairs. She made straight for the erotica section, ran a finger along a few books then selected one -- I found later it was A Maid Seduced -- and proceeded to pleasure herself again as she read it. This turned out to be her regular routine, and three or four times I watched her, each time guiltily telling myself I should stop her, or tell her about the cameras.

Then there came a Friday when I'd had a bad day. It pissed with rain all day, I didn't have a single paying customer, and I discovered a leak in my back room which had doused several books in dirty water. All I wanted to do was close up, get home and have a stiff drink; but my self-indulging student was still upstairs. Harrumphing I locked the shop door, then stomped up the stairs to give her fair warning I was coming. I called out to her "It's closing time, you'll have to leave now."

I rounded the corner to the Victorian section and it seemed the girl hadn't heard me. Sitting in the window nook she froze at the sight of me, eyes and mouth wide, her hand still down her skirt. Irritated, and frustrated, I told her "You really need to get laid, young lady."

She continued to stare at me for a moment then, withdrawing her pleasuring hand, mumbled "Chance would be a fine thing." I don't know what it was that triggered me -- perhaps those words, perhaps the way she was looking at me, the tip of her tongue running across her lips, moistening them. Whatever it was, as if in a dream I took two paces to stand inches from her. Feeling as if I was in some kind of dream I reached out and took her hand -- that hand -- lifted it to my nose and sniffed. On two of her fingers I smelt the aroma of her arousal, and I put them into my mouth and sucked them.

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The girl was staring at me with eyes the size of dinner plates, but she hadn't pushed me away, or told me to fuck off. My heart hammering, I took one further forward step, my legs touching hers. She removed her hand from my mouth and snaked it around my neck, pulling me towards her. Leaning into her, I pressed my lips to hers, and thrust my tongue into her open mouth. She didn't seem to have much experience at this so I rimmed her mouth with my tongue, tasting artificial sweetness, and prodded hers to respond. Of their own volition my hands closed on her large breasts and began to rhythmically squeeze. The arm she'd had around my neck dropped and I felt her fiddling with my trouser belt, undoing it, and pushing the garment down towards my thighs. Then, outside my underpants, she ran her fingers down my stiff cock.

Breaking the kiss I pulled the girl to her feet and dropped to my knees. She watched me in silence as I reached up under her skirt and slipped my hands into the top of her pants, pulling them and her tights down to her ankles. Still in a state of disbelief, I dipped my head between her meaty thighs and licked her prominent clitoris. Her belly slightly overhung her thin covering of dark pubes, which didn't extend to her labia. She gasped and fell back onto the window seat, enabling me to push her thighs wide and bury my face in her. It was like dipping into a stewpot, piping hot, very wet and aromatic. I sensed she'd never experience this before; she clasped her hands to the back of my head and I reached around her and grasped her buttocks, pulling her more firmly onto my probing tongue. She squealed and moaned as I licked and nibbled at her, and her hips bucked at me several times as I felt new wetness gushing into her hole.

I was just beginning to think we'd fuck on the floor when she pulled my head away from her, turned onto her belly, pushing her big white arse at me. Ripping off my trousers and pants I stepped to her, running my aching cock the length of her cheeks. I think she misunderstood my intention: she gasped "No", and reached back to try to redirect me. I needed no encouragement, I thrust my cock deep into her pussy, causing her to emit a screaming gasp. Within seconds her labia tightened around me and she roared into the seat cushion, hammering it with her fists. I was far from finished, and to get a better angle I lifted her legs, to my hips, a bit like a wheelbarrow. I teased her sometimes pulling almost entirely out of her, sometimes using quick short thrusts, and then pushing hard and deep into her, causing her each time to give a long guttural groan.

I'm sure she came several more times before I finally shot my load into her. By then we were both gasping and sweaty. I slumped down next to her on the window seat and we kissed, less passionately, for a few minutes while my fingers stirred our mixed juices around inside her, giving her another climax. Then, still naked from the wait down, I carried my trousers and pants down the stairs to give her a chance to tidy up.

Still almost in a state of disbelief, I started to feel guilty about taking advantage -- as I saw it -- of a girl younger than my own daughter. As I let her out of the shop door I told her "That was great, wonderful, but it can't happen again. Don't come back here."

The following Friday afternoon the girl entered my shop again. Glancing at me for a few seconds, she made her way up the stairs. My mouth dry with anticipation, I closed up an hour early and followed her.

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