Bookstore Seduction

In an upscale lavishly appointed independent bookstore, Colleen is browsing. She feels rather bored, and is not pressed for time. She passes me then turning to glance over her shoulder at me. Intriguing thought wanders in as I look her over then smile at her. She is wearing a light colored sundress. She browses and selects a book. It is interesting, and so she sits at a secluded corner table, with her back against the book sheleves, with a book resting on the table.

Several minutes pass when she notices me browsing in the same aisle. I’m broad shouldered. My demeanor is also unrushed and casual. As I slowly search through the books along the aisle, I’m moving gradually in her direction. I move closer, selecting a book now and then. She glances briefly in my direction. My hair is salt and pepper, a bit longer in the back. Day-old, well trimmed stubble. Inside she feels a tingle of chemical attraction to this complete stranger.

Every few minutes I move closer. Soon I’m next to her, browsing and reading. With me so close, she notices my pleasant scent. The hairs on the back of her neck seem to stiffen. I seem completely comfortable, so she finds herrself also at ease. She wonders if I find her alluring, or, just pausing nearby to examine an interesting book? I’m so close. Just a few inches away. Nothing is said. She hears me sigh softly. She looks down to see how much of her cleavage is visible to me… she leans forward so I can see a bit more.

I shift my weight on my leg and takes in a sudden breath. She hears me whisper something — she is not sure what it was… Was I reading to myself? What did I whisper? Did it sound something like “oh my… lovely breasts.” Or, was I reading to myself? She is not sure; is her imagination playing tricks? Then I reach for a book, one very close to her behind her in the stacks. My hand gently brushes against her shoulder as I removes it. The slight touch felt like a bit of electricity passed between us. Was it intentional, or accidental?

I stand nearby and read for awhile, then I sit down next her at the end of aisle. She notices my muscular legs, but she tries keep herr eyes on the print before her, and, every so often, she turns a page. Minutes pass by slowly, silently. But the silence is full of anticipation. I glance at herr legs every so often from under my sun visor as I turn a page. More minutes pass. Silence. Other people come and go.

I quietly sighs. She sighs. She turns a page. I turn a page. The minutes tick. Anticipation grows, then ebbs. And grows again. She glances at me, but my eyes are hidden below my visor. Is he admiring your legs? She decides to slowly and seductively caress the skin of her leg with a slow, light finger touch. Does he react? I do. I notice. She hears me take in a slow, deep breath, and she sees that I shift uncomfortably. She slightly rocks her leg. I slightly rock mine.