B

Pushing open the heavy glass door, a bell announced my presence. But only you cared. The salesclerk chirps a greeting as she flits by, off to hunt down an item in plain sight for a customer that is too lazy or dense to look.

This place looks right but does not smell of the libraries of my youth nor of the antiquarian shops of my adulthood. You are here, so it is a small thing in the face of what I will gain.

–

Find me, read the text, glowing like a firefly in the dusk of a long summer’s day. You would not make it easy, you seldom do.

I know you saw me, as you could not help but wait until you saw me approach. Rushing, rushing to you, tripping over myself to be in the path of your smile.

Part of me wants to drag it out but that part cannot compete with the thrumming between my thighs. Faster than lightening, I streaked through the store. Books are a blur, music washes over me unheard. I am honing in to your heartbeat, skipping like a stone thrown from my hand when I played hopscotch at age six.

I feel your eyes skim me, as I turn a corner and you duck away. Spinning, I double back and find you laughing quietly in the foreign language instruction section. Framed by Berlitz and Pimselur, you catch my breath as it pauses in my alveolar sacs.

Holding a hand out to me, I fall into your grace. Tucking my nose into the folds of your coat, I can only think of you naked and pliable, bending in my hands like taffy at pull.

–

With that same smile and a kiss, you told me to get what I wish but be quick. Hurry, you emphasized, as your fingers brush against my cleavage.

I fly at your nod and fill my arms. Ravenous, gluttony, lusty. I have broken three of the Deadly Sins in three minutes or less. I see you, standing at the register by the south door, something purchased in a bag. You waggled your eyebrows at me, as I come crashing up, losing a few copies along the way.

My reward for finding you is not all the books I have. Just part of bounty price you set.

I was aching, longing to be right on top of you, watching you give in to the pull and clasp of me.

Then we were done and it was time to leave.

It increased in the car, when I kept licking your earlobe, then the palm of your hand. Tracing my tongue along the fine creases of your wrist, I saw your desire reaching out for me, struggling but failing to rip the fabric that separated me from you.

Mouthing naughty things into the tender flesh of your palms, delicately licking your long fingers, I started a bonfire that rivaled the ones of Savonarola. Your ears are flushed and the temples of your fine silky hair are damp. I have raised your temperature with my words and mouth alone.

Once you parked, I pushed your head back against the seat and sucked your tongue until it hurt you.

–

As we left your car to go inside, you directed me to leave my books but you grabbed your bag. We only need this one. Come.

Standing in front of the door, I became as chaste as a innocent schoolgirl. Only because you like it.

–

And because you like it, I shed my clothes on the other side of that door. You followed suit and we stood there, connected by our tongues, the tangle of clothes at our feet, the slim volume clutched in your left hand.

Your mouth was as wet as my cunt, which was so slick that I wondered if it would fall to the floor. How could anything so slippery stay attached to my body?

You pulled me then to the bed. Ever open to your suggestions, I obeyed.

–

We are close. So close that I can count the lashes of your glazed eyes, see the roots of your thick dark hair.

Your tongue travels from my mouth to my hardened nipples and to that spot at my right ankle, then back up, priming me. But only you can complete the circuit with your cock.

Please, I whispered.

Please.

–

Then you told me to spread my legs and right against my clit, you rubbed the spine of that book. The one you picked for me.  I gasped and you pressed it a bit harder, sliding it up and down my cleft.

I begged you to not make me lost control, not this way.

Yes, now. Yes. Yes.

That was your wish. A simple command, uttered under the right conditions.

I fell under the spell and I did. You took the book and put the damp spine to my lips and told me to lick it.

You dipped your head and your tongue finished, did what the book could not.  All the while, my lips were on that book, smelling and tasting where my desire for you had penetrated the fabric covering.

All of a sudden, you completed the circuit. You peeled me open the same way  I have unwrapped so many textbooks.

–

That is when I thought I would flip inside out.

Due to such variables as direction, speed and pressure, I reached even further into that place called orgasm.

Come, you said.

Here, here , I am here.

Did you understand what I was saying in the jumble of sounds that broke free of my mouth?

And you soon joined me. Right here.

I could not tell if the pulsing I felt was yours or mine.

The wetness was ours.

–

Your glasses slipped off during those climatic moments. In the incoherence that meant we were both drained, they became foggy from our heat.

Turning my head, I saw them and wondered how we looked through those lenses.

–

Settling me upon the big fluffy pillows you gave me that book. It was a blank journal, covered in a crushed silk of the sweetest blue.

The question on my face was answered when you handed me a pen and simply said write for me a description of what just happened.

My startled laughter bounced off you, as you flopped over on your back and threw one arm over your eyes, one arm across my stomach.