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From: "Mr. Variag" <ludmax11@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Bookstore Girl (MF)  (Varangian)
Date: Mon,  6 Jan 2003 16:10:11 -0500
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The Bookstore Girl
a Story by Varangian
Copyright (C) 2003, Varangian


The girl caught my eye while I stood next in line at Sowell's
bookstore to pay for a novel I had chosen.  The customer ahead had
a problem with her credit card, a situation that usually annoyed
me.  But this time I hoped the old woman would drop her purse,
have a snit, or do anything to keep me waiting, because the girl
behind the counter was such a pretty creature that I could gaze at
her all afternoon.  She darted an apologetic glance at me, as
though she were responsible for the delay.  I smiled in response.

Her softly graceful forearms caught my attention.  Entirely devoid
of hair, they possessed an alluring, sensuous quality, as did her
firm, slender upper arms.  A subdued green blouse concealed modest
breasts and offset her pale skin tone magnificently.  Her raven
hair, cut short with bangs, showcased a girlish, unadorned face
with delicate features.  I imagined her to be a very proper young
woman, and the well-enunciated words she used in conversation with
the person ahead confirmed that impression.  She was as tall as I.

The thought was inescapable:  I assumed that some guy -- at least
one -- had already explored the girl's young body and even
penetrated it if she were not still a virgin, an unlikely
possibility that intrigued me.  How did she respond to sex?  Was
she uninhibited and loud, or did she stifle her groans?  I could
not imagine she was unresponsive and cold, because her sparkling
eyes and smiling mouth belied that.  I fantasized about her, as I
had done numerous times with other young women who were equally
beyond my reach.  I was much older than she.

"Sorry about that," she said when it was my turn.

"It wasn't your fault," I responded, placing my purchase on the
counter.

"This is a great story," she remarked when picking up the book.

"Do you read a lot?"

"All the time, ever since I was a kid."

I grinned at her.  "All the time?  You must leave a lot of boys
fidgeting."

She blushed with teeth cutely pressed to lower lip, then gazed at
me directly.  "The books I enjoy are usually deeper than most boys
I've known."

I nodded in understanding and wished I were twenty years younger.
Other customers waited their turns behind me, so I said nothing
further after paying for the book.  I would not have known what to
say to her in any event, because I was the sort of guy who acted
his age.

Sowell's, a large store, had an attached coffee shop to which I
repaired for a cup of hot chocolate and a croissant.  The girl
entered perhaps five minutes after I sat at an unoccupied table.
She had lovely long legs, I noticed at once, her snug skirt
hugging slender thighs.  The sight of her standing at the counter
caused my throat to ache in yearning.  She turned with a cup of
coffee in hand, scanning the crowded room before her eyes caught
mine.  She approached with a dazzling smile on her pretty face.

"May I sit here?" she asked.

"Please," I responded, half rising.

"It's so crowded this afternoon," she apologized.

"Are you on break?"

"No.  My shift ended at four."

It was a coincidence that I found her powerfully attractive and
that she happened to sit at my table.  I was well dressed and
supposedly handsome, but the fact remained that I was old enough
to be her father.

"Do you attend the university?" I asked, nodding at the window,
beyond which spread an extensive campus.

"I'm a sophomore."

I had thought she was about nineteen or twenty.  She sipped and
peered at me over the cup's rim.  Her gray eyes twinkled.

"Are you a professor?" she asked after lowering the cup.

"I do medical research, although I have a part time teaching
appointment."

"You're a physician?"

I admitted to it.  We talked for perhaps twenty minutes,
discussing books we both enjoyed and her life at the university.
Her face became animated.  She spoke in a delightful, girlish
voice, although the substance of her words was definitely mature.
She appeared to be at ease with me, a situation that only added to
my distress.  She was the sort of girl with whom I could become
foolishly infatuated.  Eventually we exchanged names.  Hers was
Nancy.

"It's rather old fashioned," she remarked.

"The name suits you.  People usually call me Tony."

"For Anthony?"

"Yes, Anthony Grauer."

"Dr. Grauer!  I've heard of you.  You're famous.  Isn't your wife
a professor in the history department?"

"My ex-wife," I corrected her, "although her son still lives with
me."

We chatted some more, and after a few minutes she rose from the
table.  "I have to go now, Dr. Grauer.  Perhaps we'll meet again."

"I come here often," I said, also rising.

"Yes.  I've seen you before."

I watched as she walked to the outside door.  She had a perky
butt, but I ogled her waist, which had substance yet remained
slender.  I desired to place my hands on it but immediately
dismissed the torturing idea.  Act your age, Tony, I thought.


* * *


On Friday, two days later, I visited the coffee shop just before
four in the afternoon.  Nancy had mentioned she worked Monday,
Wednesday and Friday.  She waved upon entering the room as though
she expected to find me there, and she came to sit with me,
although there were many empty tables.  She wore a tight, maroon
blouse that clung to her body.

We talked as before about books and her studies without a hint of
flirtation.  She had a problem with her biology class.

"I'm just not very good with science," she said in frustration.

"Perhaps you need a tutor."

She shook her head.  "I can't afford that, and I don't have any
brainy friends."

She fell silent.  I assumed she would not ask me for assistance,
so I offered it.  "I'll help, if you like."

Her eyes lit in a smile.  "Would you, really?"

Then she became more sober.  "But it would look rather, ah,
unusual, if we went to the library together."

"There's a small lounge in the Med School that's never used after
five," I suggested.  "We could go there to study."

I must have held my breath awaiting her response because I exhaled
deeply when she agreed.  We scheduled a session for that evening,
and although it was an entirely innocent arrangement, we were both
nervous when she left the coffee shop.

I had no intention of doing anything foolish with the girl either
in word or deed, although I certainly fantasized about a physical
relationship in the hours before we met.  It was not uncommon for
an affair to develop between a student and an older instructor,
but I could not imagine it happening with us.  She was too fresh
and proper, and I too cowardly.


* * *


We entered the research building through a side door.  The
elevator took us to the third floor that had a narrow hallway
cluttered with equipment.  I was not surprised to hear voices from
a distant lab, because graduate students and research assistants
often worked very late.  We would enjoy complete privacy in the
lounge, however, because it was reserved for senior staff, all of
whom vacated the building at five.  I opened the door with a key.

"This is nice," Nancy commented, dropping her book bag on the
seminar table.

We sat side by side and set to work after a few words of chatter.
It was an intellectual endeavor, and I was effective in explaining
difficult concepts to her.  But her physical presence constantly
distracted me.  She was redolent of scented soap and shampoo.  My
eyes repeatedly focused on her pale upper arm that contrasted
alluringly with the maroon blouse.  As we poured over the textbook
our fingers occasionally touched innocently, yet each time I felt
an electric shock.  I wanted to stroke her arm, to kiss her.  When
my advice was not immediately required I rose and paced the room
just to be away from her.

She stopped reading and gazed at me after I returned from such an
exercise.  "You must find this very boring, Dr. Grauer."

"Actually, it's more difficult that I anticipated."

She grinned before turning again to the book, and I knew she
realized what the problem was.  I scolded myself for submitting to
such torture, but I returned again to sit beside the exquisite
girl when she called for my help.

She sighed after about an hour.  "I think we should quit now.  You
must have other things to do."

Yes, I thought: go home and masturbate.

After she gathered her things into the book bag and we rose from
the table, she stood very close to me.

"I really appreciate this," she said in a low voice, her eyes
staring into mine.

I could not resist the urge any longer.  I placed a hand on her
upper arm, relishing the touch.  She did not step back but
continued to look at me with lips slightly parted.

"This is very difficult," I murmured, fondling the young flesh.

"But it's not entirely wrong," she responded calmly.

"Not entirely?"

She moved so close her breasts touched my chest.  "We have to be
discrete."

The kiss followed naturally, requiring us to move our heads
forward hardly an inch.  It was not intense or passionate, just
the lingering touch of our lips with arms gently around each
other.  Nor was it a promise of sex, although that possibility had
become greatly enhanced.

"May I call you Tony?" she asked as she embraced me.

"Yes!  May I call you darling?"

"Not yet."

She pecked my cheek and stepped back.  "This place is not very
comfortable."

"I wish you could come home with me, but my step-son is there," I
said, drawing her to me again.

She moved willingly into my arms for a more determined kiss, our
tongues touching.


* * *

We sat together on one of the room's leather couches.  I felt
greater nervousness than she, perhaps, but my hands quavered more
in anticipation than apprehension.  The girl was so fresh and
lovely, and evidently willing to have sex with me.  I groped for
appropriate words but only stammered.  Nancy touched my lips with
a finger, then clarified the situation.

"I'm curious, Tony.  You're a very nice man, and I like you a lot.
But I'm just curious."

Yes, of course, I thought.  It would be foolish to think of
romance and love.

"I understand, and I'm flattered you've chosen me to be your first
guy."

She leaned her head against my shoulder and took hold of my hand.
"I'm not a virgin, not really.  But I've never done it for
pleasure."  She laughed and squeezed the hand.  "What I mean to
say is that I've only done it once before."

I placed an arm around her as she snuggled to me.  "Was it a bad
experience?"

"It hurt.  The boy was clumsy and we did it in the back seat of
his car.  It was over in less than a minute.  I ruined my skirt."

I palmed her cheek and we kissed with tongues engaged.  "I'll be
gentle.  May I call you darling now?"

"Yes."

"You are indeed my darling!"  I cupped a breast that almost filled
my hand.  We kissed intensely, and her eagerness dispelled any
lingering doubts.  I fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, which
she allowed me to remove despite evident shyness.

"I've never been naked with a guy," she explained.

"Should I close my eyes?"

She laughed briefly, then leaned forward to give me access to the
snaps of her bra.  The pale, firm breasts did not sag in the
least.  They were conical beauties with small areolas and hard,
brown nipples.  They, along with narrow shoulders and a flat
stomach, emphasized her striking youthfulness, yet she was mature
enough for what we intended.

I fondled and suckled each breast in turn, raising my head after a
moment to kiss her lips.
Her agitated expression betrayed both excitement and unease.  She
balked when I sought to undo her skirt.

"I feel embarrassed," she said.

"Have you changed your mind?"  I feared the possibility.

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed, taking my head in both hands and
peppering my face with brief kisses.  "Let me do the rest."

She looked at me anxiously as she fumbled with the skirt's zipper.
I rose to undress.  She paused in her efforts to watch, and it was
my turn feel embarrassment.

"Do you work out?" she asked when I stood before her clad just in
underpants with gut sucked in.

"I run and swim."

She nodded approval.  I watched as she removed the skirt and panty
hose.  Her long legs were stunning, shapely as a model's but not
too slender.  She leaned back on the couch with panties still on.

"You first," she said with a grin.

After a moment's hesitation I pushed down my shorts and shucked
them off.  She sat upright to gaze at my erection, which was
little more than average in size.  She did not move to touch it.

"I've never seen one before, not an adult one."

"Your first boy was a child?"

She laughed and leaned back again.  "It was too dark to see and he
was very quick.  We didn't play around much beforehand, you know."

I shook my head at the appalling idiocy of some boys.

"May I remove your panties?"

After she nodded assent, I knelt before her, kissing a sleek thigh
before grasping the hem of her garment.  She raised up slightly to
assist me. I ran both hands along her thighs, relishing their
softness, gazing at her curley, dark bush.

"May I lick on you?"

"Lick?"

"You know what I mean."

"You don't mind?"

"I would love to do it."

Without further comment she reclined on the couch leaving her legs
extended to the floor beside me.  I lifted the further one and
placed its foot flat on the cushion, which presented me a
delicious target.  The tip of her clitoral hood was visible, and I
kissed a path to it.  She responded immediately with uninhibited
groans that grew in intensity.  She wriggled against my face with
fingers in my hair, soon pulling it painfully and crying out.

I sat back on my heels to observe her aroused expression.  She
breathed heavily through flared nostrils.  I moved atop her into
arms that gripped me tightly and legs that entangled mine the
instant my knob penetrated. She went wild, thrusting erratically
until we established a rhythm.  She bit my lip, sucked on my neck
and scratched my shoulders.  I pounded her in long, rapid strokes,
and she seemed to want even more.  She cried loudly into my mouth,
then gasped a half scream.  I began to squirt just as she
approached another orgasm, and I managed to help her to it before
I went flaccid.


* * *


"I didn't expect that," she whispered into my ear after she
regained some composure.

She lay half atop me with thighs straddling one of mine that
became increasingly moist with her excretions.

"Have I satisfied your curiosity?" I asked.

She kissed me.  "I'm sorry, Tony.  It was more than curiosity.
I'm really fond of you, and I want to do this again and again."

"Next time I'll find a bed for us."

"I'd make love with you on a stony beach, Tony, and with me on the
bottom.  But no motel.  That's too tacky."

"How about a weekend in Chicago at a fine hotel?"

She rubbed my nose with hers.  "That sounds great!  I can dress up
to look older."

Her words were a painful reminder of our actual situation,
although I doubted she was being snide.

She pressed her full weight upon me. "I can't promise to be
faithful," she whispered.  "But I only have one other boy in
mind."

"Your first?  The clumsy one?"

"Yeah.  He's really sweet.  He's been after me since last week."

"Last week?  You were a virgin until then?"

Instead of explaining she sucked on my earlobe.

"Can we do it again?" she asked.


* * *


We met in the lounge each of the following three evenings.  She
was eager for it, although I worried about losing weight.  Nancy,
I learned, had a phenomenal appetite for orgasms.  We looked
forward to our Chicago trip, both of us longing for a spacious bed
and waking together in the morning.  Fortunately, I found myself
free that very week.

"I'll bring my tooth brush," she declared when I told her the good
news.

Those words were more a promise than a comment on hygiene.  She
had twice sucked me to erection when my flagging member refused to
rise for a third go, but she had refused so far to give me a
blowjob all the way.

"I'd deplete you," she reasoned.  "You only have two good shots a
night as it is."

"It's a sexist thing, darling," I countered.  "It would be a rush
to see my stuff dripping from your beautiful face."

Therefore, when we checked into a luxury hotel overlooking the
Chicago River I had genuine hopes of a new experience with her.
Eventually I intended to inveigle the girl to try anal
intercourse.  I had confidence in her curiosity.

It was a lovely, spacious room with a view of Lake Michigan in the
distance.  The bellman smirked at me after depositing our bags,
because Nancy, who had not accompanied me to the check-in, looked
like a schoolgirl, perhaps even younger than her nineteen years.

"That's such an inviting, large bed, Tony," she said, unbuttoning
her blouse.  "Let's try it out."

"Do you have a surprise for me?"

"Of course, darling.  Something special that a sexist like you
will enjoy."

We hurried to undress, and when we stood nude in the middle of the
room, I paused to marvel at her young loveliness.  We embraced to
kiss, my palms on her perky buttocks, a finger toying with her
anus.

"Please, Tony!" she protested playfully, pushing me back.  "I
don't know you that well."

"Not yet."

"We'll see."

We crawled onto the bed to kiss and snuggle in its spaciousness.
I ate her out three times in the course of an hour, until she was
temporarily sated.

"It's your turn now," she announced, grinning, pushing me onto my
back.

  I squirmed like a sovereign prince awaiting the attention of a
prized houri.

"I've never done it when you were already hard," she remarked,
kneeling above me.  "I like the feel of it growing in my mouth."

"This time it shall shrivel between your lip, darling."

She wrinkled her nose at me and set to.  As with everything sexual
Nancy performed with eagerness and gusto.  She required few
instructions, and before long I felt the telltale prickle of
approaching orgasm.

"Get ready!" I gasped.

I expected her to pull back to avoid the spurt, but she didn't.
She took my squirts in her mouth and indeed held steady until I
shriveled between her lips.  She then looked up and gave me a
gruesome smile.  Semen oozed to her chin and fell upon my stomach.
Strands stretched between her teeth.  She puckered and spat
playfully on my chest, then swallowed.

"Ow about a kiss, dearie," she asked in a faux Brit accent.

I declined but pulled her down for a tickle.

"That was absolutely disgusting!"  She laughed.  "I'm going to
brush my teeth."

She rose and dashed to the bathroom.  I relaxed on the bed in
serene contentment.  What a delight she was, I thought.  What a
delight!   I fell into a doze to be awakened sometime later by the
feel of her mouth on my member.

"Time to get up, Tony," she said after straightening to stand
beside the bed.

She was clad in a tasteful skirt and jacket with a frilly blouse
beneath.  Lip rouge was faintly evident and she had used other
cosmetics expertly.  She wore her glasses.  The girl appeared to
be a stunningly beautiful thirty-something.

"My god, Nancy!" I exclaimed, sitting up in bed.  "How did you
manage that?"

She did not explain.  Instead she announced, "You promised me a
night on the town, darling, so take a shower and get dressed."

I swung my feet to the floor.  "Of course.  But pretend we're on
our first date and let me seduce you all over again."

"You never seduced me, Tony, although I'll enjoy playing that game
with you tonight."


* * *


I returned from Chicago very conscious of my age -- and Nancy's.
She thought my exhaustion amusing, as if she understood the real
situation better than I.  After sweetly rejecting my offer of
marriage while we lay entwined on the hotel's luxurious bed, the
girl demonstrated her continuing devotion by suggesting another
go, which I only barely accomplished.  When we arrived home I
found her reluctance to revisit the lounge a welcome relief, at
least for the following two days, until I recovered and began to
lust for her once more.

"That place is too stark and uncomfortable," she objected when I
asked her to join me there.

She had previously ruled out motels, and off-hand I could think of
no alternative trysting spot.

"Are you implying we're finished with each other?"

"Oh, no, darling!  I want you forever."

"You mean until you graduate."

"Perhaps a little longer than that."

I wanted to hold her hand, but it would have been inappropriate in
the crowded coffee shop.

"So you think we'll last a while longer?" I asked.  "In that case
I should find an apartment for my step-son.  Then my house would
be available."

"I'd like to see where you live."

"But that doesn't help us for tonight."

She glanced around, then took my hand.  "I have a date, Tony.  Do
you mind?"

"Your first boy?"

She nodded.  "I have a lot to teach him, thanks to you."

"I'm flattered," I said, frowning.

"Oh, don't be so morose, Tony.  I still love you."

I smiled.  "I'm not yet fully recovered, Nancy.  Perhaps another
evening alone will help."

It was a lie.  I wanted to tear off her clothes and once more hear
her orgasmic cries.

She squeezed my hand.  "I'll go with you to the lounge tomorrow,
darling, but we really have to find a better place."

Later that day, when I mentioned the apartment idea, my step-son,
John, became quite agitated at the prospect.  He was an eighteen-
year-old freshman.

"I can have girls over!" he exclaimed.

"You've always been free to invite girls home," I told him, "but
you've never managed to trick one into it.  When will you be ready
to move out?"

"I need an apartment first."

"Why don't you go hunt for one?  I'll go as high as $350 a month."

"That's not much!"

"You only need an efficiency.  Perhaps we can move you out
tomorrow."

"You're trying to get rid of me, dad!"

"That's right.  I want to have girls over too."


* * *


I went to bed very early that evening and awoke at two in the
morning to take a piss.  God-awful music sounded from John's room.
When I opened my door to the bathroom I shared with him, I
glimpsed naked feminine legs straddling the toilet.  Judging by
the position of her arm it appeared that a girl was wiping
herself.

"Ooop!  Sorry!" I burst out, quickly closing the door.

I went into the hall and stepped to John's room to find his door
ajar.  I pushed it open, surprising the boy, who in a panic pulled
a pillow to his naked groin.

"There's a girl in the bathroom," I said firmly but without anger.

"You said I could have girls over!"

"Yeah, but you should tell me first.  I almost walked in on her.
Congratulation, by the way!"

Embarrassed, he concentrated on spreading the sheet over his body
and did not see the shock on my face when his bathroom door
opened.  Nancy stood there nude.  Her mouth formed a perfect "O"
in surprise at the sight of me, but before she closed the door I
could see her lips twist into a grin.

"Keep the noise down," I mumbled and hurried from the room.

For the next hour I lay on my bed in the dark with eyes staring at
nothing.  John had turned off the horrible music, but other sounds
were more disturbing: his headboard banging against the wall, for
one, and especially Nancy's cries of ecstasy.  They fucked
incessantly.  I attempted to gage by the timbre of her
exclamations whether he was better than I but came to no definite
conclusions.  Then it was quiet for long minutes, a silence more
annoying than the previous noises, because I imagined them in each
other's arms kissing and snuggling.  I gnashed my teeth in
frustration.

The sound of the shower running awoke me from a doze.  Moments
after it shut off the bathroom door opened and a dark figure
stumbled toward me.  It was Nancy, who climbed onto the bed and,
still damp, into my arms.  We kissed furiously.

"I didn't know he was your son!" she hissed into my hear.

"My step-son.  We have different last names."

"Whatever.  He's asleep now."

"You wore him out?"

She giggled.  "I want to wear you out too!"

At the moment I had no patience for foreplay or other preambles.
I took her in the missionary position, stifling her eventual
groans and cries with my mouth.  My own pleasure was unusually
intense.

"What are we going to do, Tony?" she asked after we calmed down
and lay in each other's arms.

"We'd better not tell him.  It'll be easier after he moves into
his own apartment."

"But what about later?  What if I marry him?"

"He's too young for that."

"So am I, but in four or five years . . ."

"Are you serious, Nancy?  You don't have to marry him just because
he was your first guy."

"He's a lovely, sweet person -- like you.  I don't want anyone
else.  But he wasn't my first guy, Tony.  You were.  He was just
the one who ripped me."

I brushed my cheek against the precious girl's fragrant hair.

"I believe you said it," I told her before our next kiss.  "We'll
have to be discrete."

END


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