It's in the Book Ch. 01byCollectable©
Timothy looked up from his 'Investors Business Daily' when the door opened. It only took a moment for his appraisal. Her figure was Top Ten: nice breasts, not too big and well supported, he suspected without a bra; nice waist, slender and firm under her cotton blouse; hips flaring just a little and a nice bottom. Her legs were apparently long and slender in her expensive slacks. She would obviously be welcome in any man's bed. Her light brown hair fell below her shoulders and was straight and glossy. Her blue eyes glistened under long lashes. And her makeup was subtle and perfect.
Then he remembered that her perfection had run out just south of her perky nose. She had more than enough teeth, and they all seemed to peek out through her lips. Something her parents might have had corrected. But she had more jaw than Jay Leno. No solution for that, short of a miracle. He resisted thinking she was a perfect candidate for a paper bag. She would never win a beauty contest, but she would never be lonely for male companionship.
She declined his offer of help and he went back to his paper, frowning. He had seen her in the market on a couple of Saturdays and he thought he remembered the sort of thing she shopped for. "There are a couple of new buys in space R-7 you might want to check out, Young Lady."
She looked over her shoulder and her imperfect smile was radiant nontheless. "Thanks." And she turned toward the back of the shop.
He was savoring the sight of that body when the door chime rang again. He turned to see a shriveled little man, age indeterminate, undernourished, tattered, grey skin. On his way down to 'out.' He hefted a box onto the counter and it sounded like the box weighed more than he did.
"Got some books," he panted.
Timothy's attention immediately focused on the box rather than the girl. Books were his business at the market. And his passion. Especially old books. "Want me to have a look at them?"
"That's what we're here for." The man was getting his breath. "Unless you want to buy them blind."
"Better not," Timothy smiled. He opened the top of the box and lifted out half a dozen dusty books. They were all old, most of them leather bound. The subjects weren't likely to attract much attention from the customers at the flea market. But he knew a couple of rare book sellers who might be interested. At the bottom of the box was what he thought might be an oversized cigar box. When he lifted it out he saw it was, indeed, a box, but not for cigars. It was a finely fashioned case designed as a container for a book. When he opened it he found two compartments. In one was a leather bound volume with no title. He lifted the book out and opened it carefully. The title page displayed the word "MAJIK" in large gothic letters. The index page had entries for "Potions," "Spells," "Incantations," "Receipts," "Defenses," "Cures and Remedies," and "Wonders."
He eagerly turned the page, to find a blank sheet. Another. Another. Every one of the apparently fragile pages seemed to be blank.
"It's beautiful," he said. 'But it must be an elaborate and expensive joke."
"What did you expect?"
"Some of the stuff the Table of Contents promises."
"Start at the back." The man's voice was growing stronger.
Timothy flipped the pages starting at the back. The last page was blank. The second page was a beautiful pencil sketch that featured a couple in a very intimate embrace. They were both completely naked. The next page pictured an artistic nude of a buxom and inviting blonde. As he flipped through the book it was like flipping through a catalog of 'Playboy' centerfolds. Combined with a westernized version of a Japanese 'Pillow Book.' Naked or half-dressed men and women in all the positions he'd ever imagined and several that had never occurred to him.
Timothy began leafing through the book from the front and was amazed that every page was blank again. He looked up at the man. "Are you some sort of hypnotist?"
"Not any more. It's in the book."
Timothy didn't pursue the subject. His attention was caught by the velvet pouch, which seemed to be squirming in the narrow compartment along the spine.
"See for yourself."
Timothy picked up the pouch and tipped the open end toward his hand. At first he thought the object was a large black feather, but it was too heavy for a feather. And too solid. And it seemed to be warm. "What is this?"
"It looks like a writing stone." The words didn't come from the man. Instead they came from the blonde who had brought two small carvings to the desk. "May I see it?" She held out her hand.
As he reached to give it to her, Timothy felt the stone move in his hand. And when she tried to take it, it seemed to be glued to his fingers.
"Sorry," he said. "There must be some glue on it." But he held up his hand so the girl could study the carving.
"It's exquisite. Is it for sale?"
"I'm still negotiating," Timothy said, quickly. "No idea what the price might be." He tried to smile, but he was still confused by the whole situation.
The girl dug in her purse. "Well, you know I collect carvings. I'm Joyce Tompkins. When you put it on the market, please give me right of first refusal." She handed him a business card and turned away to let another clerk ring up her purchases and she soon exited the shop.
Timothy realized the stone was no longer sticking to his fingers. He looked at the man.
"How does it work?"
"Just like a pencil," the man replied. "And like Harry Potter's magic wand...And it seems to have chosen you."
Timothy picked up a tablet and started to write. But the words that appeared on the sheet were much bolder than his tight script.
They spelled out, "Buy me," in large Gothic letters.
"Looks like you have no choice," the man said.
"What do you think?"
The stone moved in Timothy's hand and he found himself writing, "$500.14."
He couldn't believe it. He always brought $500.00 to the store in case he needed to pay cash for new merchandise. It was only a coincidence that he also had 14¢ in his pocket. "How did you do that?" he challenged the man.
"It's in the book," he smiled as he held out his hand. "Usually goes for all you got," he said enigmatically.
In another couple of minutes, the deal was done and the man was almost dancing out of the shop, muttering something about being "free at last." Timothy put the stone back in its pouch and slipped it into his shirt pocket. He repacked the box and carried it to the trunk of his car.
The rest of his shift went by quickly and he was conscious of the stone in his pocket as he helped several customers with their purchases. A couple of times he felt led by some sixth sense to pieces the customers found attractive enough to buy.
"Thanks for your help, Tim," the manager said as he was leaving. "You seemed to be at the top of your game, today."
"I was, wasn't I." And Timothy waved as he went out to his car.
He couldn't wait to get back to his apartment. It was small, but big enough for him, with a large, tidy bedroom and a Pullman kitchen. He put the box on the floor by his work table. It only took a few minutes to sort through the books, some for the shop, some for his bookseller contacts, (maybe worth enough to pay for the entire purchase, he thought). And the MAJIK book.
He opened the wooden box and lay the book on his table. He flipedd through several blank pages. They were thin as onion skin but not at all translucent. He wondered, again, whether he had been conned. But if it was a con, it was remarkable. As he flipped through the pages, he was suddenly conscious of the stone in his pocket, almost as if it were vibrating. He took it out of its velvet pouch and studied it. The detail was so fine he could actually count the veins of the feather. And the point looked sharp, as if it had never been used.
He touched the point of the feather to a blank page, wondering how to discover the secret of the book. He was almost startled when words began to appear on the sheet. Across the top of the sheet he read, 'A Spell of Attraction.' The first paragraph read, 'To attract a desirable companion to your orbit, repeat the following words three times and go to a favorite public place.'
Below that was a single line: 'Sripit of the book bnirg a levor to my obirt tadoy.' Gibberish. But he found himself struggling to pronounce the words. Once...twice...three times. And the words disappeared. Unbelievable. He turned to other pages and found them all blank. It took him a minute to reconstruct what had happened.
He turned to a fresh page and lifted the stone. When he touched it to the page, words appeared again. 'A Spell of Affluence.' And below it the paragraph read, 'Go into your workplace and write out what you desire in order to feel affluent. Then repeat the words, 'Sripit of the book bnirg me tihs adanbucne of watleh tadoy,' three times.'
When he lifted the stone, the words disappeared. But he quickly took his notebook and wrote out what he could remember of the spell. Then he felt almost foolish to realize he was beginning to believe in magic. He touched the stone to the book again and the words reappeared so he immediately checked to make sure he had copied the spell correctly.
He wasn't sure what to think of this strange book, but he knew it was worth pursuing. He turned to one of the pages at the back. It was blank...until he touched it with the stone. He was enchanted with the smile of the oriental girl who appeared on the page. And with the long, black hair that flowed over the fullness of her naked breasts. He was charmed by the beauty mark that nestled deep in the cleavage of her left breast. It was the diameter of a pencil eraser and as black as her perfect nipple. He knew his eyes were deceiving him when he thought he saw her smile at him.
Suddenly he was famished. He couldn't imagine why his hunger had hit him so suddenly, but he closed the book and tucked the stone into its sheath and into his pocket. He locked his room before walking to the small restaurant down the street.
The restaurant was housed in an old train depot, and modern diesel locomotives pulling long strings of cars still ran on the tracks outside the windows occasionally delighting the kids. He chose to sit at a table on the screened porch that faced the street. It was early and the place was almost deserted. And the sidewalks outside were deserted, too. But it didn't matter. The early weather fall was beautiful, the trees showing the first signs of color. And the smell of steaks cooking satisfied him well for the moment.
He ordered a bottle of wine and was studying the menu when he saw her walking down the sidewalk. Somehow familiar. Very pretty. Very oriental. And striking for her full bust and long black hair. He didn't see her turn into the restaurant, but gave his attention to the wine waiter.
He had just raised his glass when he heard a voice as melodious and dainty as a wind chime at his shoulder asking, "May I join you?"
Timmy looked around the almost empty room to be sure she was talking to him. Then he jumped to his feet and almost stammered, "I'd be delighted." The top of her head barely reached his chin and everything about her was petite, except for her full breasts beneath a sheer white blouse. He helped her with her chair and called the waiter for another wine glass.
"I hope you don't mind my inviting myself," she apologized with a timid smile, "but I hate to eat alone and when I saw you sitting here I felt as if I didn't have a choice."
"I'm glad you followed your instincts," he smiled. "I'm Timothy Tweeter. And he held out his hand."
Her hand was tiny in his and her smile was now radiant. Her delicate floral perfume almost intoxicated him. "I'm Toy...Toy Lee. I work at a shop down the block. It's nice to meet you Mister Timothy Tweeter."
"It's nice to meet you, too, Miss Toy Lee," he imitated her formality. And they both giggled.
As they studied their menus, Timothy suddenly realized where he had seen her. He would have sworn she was he girl in the book. And when she looked up and smiled at him, he was sure it was her. How could this be happening?
They seemed to find a lot to talk about, and agree on; his work, her interest in art and the unusual, the state of the nation. And when they were having their desserts, he twitched when he felt her hand on his thigh. "I have never felt such instant attraction for a complete stranger, Mr. Timothy Tweeter."
Timothy covered her hand with his. "And I feel the same way, Miss Toy Lee." He almost choked when she moved his hand to her own thigh and tugged the skirt back to let his fingers rest on warm bare flesh. "I would like to get better acquainted." The statement was simple, but her look was full of promise.
"Would you like to see how an amateur day trader lives?"
"I would like that very much." And they were soon walking hand in hand through the park to his apartment.
When he opened the door and ushered her in, Timothy was surprised to see that she had unbuttoned her silky white blouse.
"Please don't think I am too forward. I have never done something like this before. But I feel I have no choice." And she tugged the blouse out of her waistband and slipped it off her shoulders. He admired the way her lacy white bra held her breasts high and inviting. Then she was holding out her arms to put her hands behind his neck. "May I have a kiss, Mr. Timothy Tweeter?"
Her kiss was warm and enthusiastic and she stretched on tip toes to hold him close. She broke the kiss and almost dragged him to the couch. When he was seated she raised the hem of her skirt and straddled his legs and pressed her breasts against his chest. "You have such long legs this will be much more comfortable for you." The pressure of her firm stomach against his hard cock didn't make that seem likely. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it open. And her lips found his again. And her tongue darted out to lick his lips and invite his tongue out to play. Her hands caressed his neck and shoulders and arms and chest as they kissed, exploring each other's mouths.
And when Timothy returned her caresses in kind he delighted in the firmness of her breasts, the smoothness of her back and shoulders. "Do you need me to remove my bra, Darling?"
"I haven't had a lot of practice, my beautiful Toy, but I think I can manage."
And he did. And her bare breasts were even more delightful without the fabric cover. And there was the beauty mark. He squeezed and massaged her breasts enthusiastically and hugged her to his bare chest savoring the warmth of her against him, the delicacy of her fragrance.
"Pinch my nipples, Darling. It excites me."
And he soon discovered that she was telling the truth and the whole truth...and that sucking on her nipples that stood up like hard black jelly beans excited her even more...and that biting her nipples excited her even more.
"Oh, Tim, you're making me come," she moaned softly. "Oh, yes...yes...yes." And it was almost a scream as she shuddered and clutched his head to her breast.
"Oh, Timmy, I don't want to seem so easy, but I can't help myself. Can we go to bed now, please? I want to kiss you and hug you and lick you and suck you and feel you inside me. Please," she pleaded.
And he was too much a gentleman to refuse, so he led her to his bed. She helped him with his shirt and trousers, then let him remove her short skirt so she stood in front of him wearing only her silky black panties. Her tiny figure was perfect, her legs firm and slender, her hips graceful. And when he slipped his fingers into the band of her lacy silk panties and slipped them over her hips he was treated to the sight of a neatly trimmed triangle of pitch black curls pointing to the pouting lips of her girlish pussy. "Beautiful."
Then she was tugging at the snaps of his boxers and pulling them down to reveal his fully erect cock.
"Oh, Timmy, you are beautiful, too. And you look delicious," she smiled delightedly. And her tiny fingers caressed the length of his hardness and fondled the firm sack of his scrotum. "I love it...you are so big...so hard...so ready." Then her lips moved from his mouth to his chest to his stomach to the center of his passion. And she was pushing him back onto the bed. She kissed him from the tip of his cock to the base...and licked him...and pinched him with her lips. Then her lovely mouth was stretching open to circle the head of his ram. And he felt her hot tongue swirling around and around the tip of his cock.
In another minute she had hopped up on the bed, her knees pressed against his rib cage. Her kisses were almost out of control and he felt her hand creep down his stomach to find his hardness. He fondled her pendant breasts as she scooted back, holding him ready to spear her love...the head popped into her warmth...another inch...another. "Oh yes, my darling. Oh yes."
Another inch...and then she drove back engulfing his whole length in the hot wet sleeve of her steaming cunt. "Oh, my...oh, yes...so good...so full...I love it." And she withdrew slowly, letting him slip almost out of her grip...Then back to engulf him...Then out...in...out. "Cumming, Timmy, cumming...Yes...Oh God...yes." And her rocking, plunging hips gave and took, gave and took, faster and faster until she screamed her release and trembled against him while her puss throbbed around his cock.
"I've never cum like that before, my love. You were fantastic. Unbelievable. I'll never be the same," she purred when they were lying together in the afterglow. "Do you think we can make it that good another time?"
"We may have to practice and practice, My Toy, but I'm willing to give it a try," he chuckled.
"Didn't you cum?" she asked as her fingers found his still engorged rod.
"Not yet, Darling, but it was still wonderful," he assured her.
"Then we have to do something about that," she announced. "Would you like to take me from behind? Or on our sides? Or in the shower?" she giggled. Then she grew more serious and slid off the bed. She showed him her perfect bottom. "Do you think I have an attractive bottom, My Timmy?"
"You have the most beautiful bottom I've ever seen, My Toy."
"Would you like to fuck my beautiful bottom?" Her expression was hard to read, but he was sure she wouldn't be kidding."
"I wouldn't want to hurt you."
"I did it once, Darling, and it hurt a little at first, then I really got excited and it was great for me," she looked at him for approval. "Do you have some Vaseline or something."
It only took a minute for him to find the tube of K-Y Jelly and bring it to her.
"Hold out your hand," she instructed. When he did, she squeezed a large dollop of the jelly onto his fingers. "Now you have to put this in my bottom to get me ready."
It was unfamiliar territory, but Tim was caught up in the excitement. He caressed her little asshole with a slick finger then pressed the finger against the tightness of her sphincter.
"Uum," she moaned. "I think another finger, Timmy." And when he inserted another finger she groaned again. "Another." And he soon had all of three fingers twisting deep into her. "Now for you, Darling." She turned without releasing his fingers and laid a line of jelly on the length of his shaft. He almost came as she spread the liquid over the entire surface of his cock. Then she was leaning over the bed, both her hands holding her delicate ass cheeks wide. "Please be gentle, Timmy," she groaned.
And he was. Following her instructions and encouragement as he forced the head of his cock through the well lubricated opening. Holding her slender hips to force himself deeper. "That's it." Another inch. "Oh yes." Another. "Yes." And soon he was buried in that tight little furnace.