A Bookshop with a Difference

The forecast was for sunshine and no rain, but disappointingly, the reality was no sunshine and plenty of rain. In fact, it was now raining cats and dogs. So to avoid getting soaked to the skin I was sheltering in a narrow covered alleyway. I was going to wait there until the weather got better.

Then something caught my attention. A few yards away from where I was standing there was a door in the alleyway. Out of curiosity, I went over to it. On it was a brass plate. In black letters were the following words.

'Henderson, Hargreaves & Hobs

(Classical Literature and First Editions)'

So it was a bookshop, but was it open? There was only one way to find out. The handle turned easily but when I pushed against the heavy door it didn't move. I was about to walk away, but I decided to try again, to see if it opened outwards. It did.

It was like stepping into an Aladdin's cave. In the room there were shelves and tables everywhere, all of them stacked high with books and bundles of papers. And there was the faint sweet smell of old books. For me, a collector, it was heaven. This was a place that I could spend hours in. It was only a couple of miles from where I lived, so why hadn't I discovered it before?

Then, from a side door, an old man appeared. He was smartly dressed, but in clothes that a Victorian gentleman might have worn.

In a voice that was extremely posh, he greeted me with, "Can I help you sir?"

"Thanks, but I'm just looking."

"Take your time, and if I can be of any assistance to you, then don't hesitate to let me know."

I thanked him again, and then I started exploring. It didn't take me long to realize that I'd found a gold mine. In my trembling hand was a Dickens first edition, and It was in good condition. I quickly put it back down before I dropped it. In any other bookshop it would have been in a locked cabinet. Here it was just on a shelf, for anybody to touch.

I'd just picked up another book when the old man came over to me.

"I noticed you examining 'A Tale of Two Cities', did it not meet your expectations?"

I wanted to laugh, but somehow I managed to hold it in. It hadn't just met my expectations, it had exceeded them. I was a very wealthy business man, but I'd put it down because if I was to buy such a book on impulse, then even for me, it would put a significant dent in my bank balance.

"Did you look at the last page?"

I shook my head. After picking the book up he showed me what was on that page. Dickens had written a few lines to a woman called Anne, and then he'd signed it.

"I've done some research but I've been unable to discover who she was."

That was interesting, but I was now glad that I hadn't asked the price. It was indeed a rare book, a first edition with the author's signature. It would be very expensive.

He then said something, and I almost wished that he hadn't. He told me the price of it, and surprisingly, I could just about afford it. For what it was, the price was a bargain, so I had to have it. But it was still a lot of money to spend on just one book!

A week later I was back again, but this time I was more prudent. After spending nearly two hours in the shop, I bought three more books, but they were cheap compared to the Dickens. By the end of my third visit I was friends with the old man.

He was Albert, but preferred to be called Bertie. He was the owner of the bookshop, and by his own admission, was extremely wealthy. For him, selling precious books to passionate collectors was more of a hobby than a business. And he'd demonstrated that by selling me 'A Tale of Two Cities' for the price that he'd paid for it.

As well as him telling me about himself, I'd talked about myself.

I'm Jeb, married to Mary. Both of us are fifty years old. We have one child, Jessica, and she's our pride and joy. My business is cars, very expensive ones. I buy and sell them at two locations. I manage one site and Jessica manages the other one. She's only twenty three, but she already knows everything about the business. That's not surprising, because she's had a good teacher. Me!

It was two weeks before I was back at the bookshop. My business was doing well, in fact, in the last week I'd made three big sales. So I was in a good mood, eager to spend some of that profit in his shop.

When I opened the door, I was surprised to see that there were two other customers in the bookshop. For all the other times that I'd been here, I'd been the only one, so I'd started to think of it as just for me. That was silly.

One of them came over to me. I introduced myself.

While smiling, and offering him my hand, I said, "Hi, I'm Jeb."

Without returning my smile, or shaking my hand, his response was a terse, "You need to leave."

Then the other man spoke.

"Charles didn't mean to be rude. But you do need to leave. Bertie is closing the shop."

I didn't like them telling me what to do. They didn't own the bookshop, Bertie did. And where was he? There was something going on, but what? Then I understood, and now my pulse was racing.

It was a heist. These two weren't customers, they were criminals that were robbing the bookshop. That's why Bertie wasn't here, he would be tied up in one of the backrooms. I should be frightened, but I wasn't, instead I was excited. It was my opportunity to be a hero.

Without any consideration of the consequences of what I was about to do, I said, "Give yourselves up, the place is surrounded."

That got their attention, but not in the way that I'd expected. They didn't look anxious, they were confused.

Then a door at the back of the bookshop opened. I was worried. Myself against two of them had been optimistic, but to defeat three, was impossible. You have to pick your battles, and this was one that I was never going to win.

As he entered the room I put my hands up.

"I surrender, don't hurt me."

"Hello Jeb."

It was Bertie, and, as always, he was immaculately dressed. But more importantly, he wasn't tied up.

While looking at the two men, he said, "Are you playing games with my friend?"

Charles, the surly one, answered him, "The silly sod thinks we're robbing you."

That got a chuckle from Bertie.

"They are two dubious characters, but they are also my friends. Charles and Edward."

That's when I put my hands down. I felt such a fool.

"Sorry, when I was told that the shop was closing, and you weren't here, I..."

Bertie cut me off with, "Don't worry, it was an easy mistake to make."

"It is when you're a moron. He should leave."

That was from Charles. Was he always this rude?

After moving close to him, so that he was almost in his face, Bertie said, "I think it's you that should leave, and don't come back until your manners have improved."

It was now a contest between Bertie, who was calm, and Charles, who was angry, to see who would blink first.

When my friend won I wanted to cheer, but that would also be bad manners, so I kept my mouth shut.

"I'm going, and I won't be coming back."

On his way out, I got a look from him that told me that he blamed me for him having to leave, and then his final act was to slam the door, so hard, that it almost came off its hinges.

I was about to say sorry to Bertie, because if I hadn't jumped to the wrong conclusion, then his friend would still be here, but before I could, he spoke.

"It's not your fault. However, we have a problem. But with your help, it's one that is easily solved."

Both of them were now looking at me, and they were smiling. Then Bertie said, "Jeb, would you like to take Charles's place?"

I was confused. What was I supposed to do? He then said more.

"Let me explain."

He then did. When he'd finished I shook my head.

"This has to be a wind-up."

Bertie looked offended. Then Edward jumped in with, "It's not. Everything he's just said is true."

It was hard to believe, but I was starting to realize something. What had sounded like fantasy was really fact.

I'd been invited to a party. Apparently, on the second floor of the bookshop, there was a room that was specifically for entertaining. On the first Monday of each month, Bertie, and his two invited guests, go there to eat gourmet food and consume vintage wine. So what's unusual about that?

Nothing, but there was more to it than just food and drink!

Three women would be with us, and they were there to look after all our needs. Bertie had been very candid about what was required from them.

"They will do anything you ask, and because I've chosen them carefully, they will enjoy doing it."

I'd been invited, but should I accept? I was no angel, but it had been a long time since I'd been unfaithful to Mary. Did I really want to start being a bad boy again? In order to decide I needed some more information.

"Tell me about the women."

"Their ages are between twenty one and twenty five."

Then Edward joined in, "And they have to be beautiful with an amazing body."

It was a no-brainer. I was going to the party!

When I entered the room, it was like no other room that I'd ever seen before. It could have been an exhibition in a Victorian museum. It even had gas lighting. It was like stepping back in time to a bygone era. I didn't recognize any of the paintings that were hanging on the walls, but I just knew that they would be original and expensive. And Bertie wasn't just a collector of books and fine art, the room was an antique dealer's heaven. It was full of impressive artefacts.

"I'm pleased that you like it."

Bertie hadn't needed to ask for my opinion, my wide opened eyes and silly grin had already told him.

"But there's something missing."

He was now looking concerned. This room was supposed to be perfect, but I'd just said that it wasn't.

"Please tell me what it is?"

"There are no women!"

Edward found that funny but our host didn't.

With irritation in his voice, he said, "They are for later. A gentleman is always in control of his passions. First, we must enjoy some good food and fine wine."

I would prefer not to be a gentleman. If it was up to me then I'd go straight to the main event. Mary was a fabulous cook, and I had a well-stocked wine cellar, so I could get good food and fine wine at home. But what I couldn't get there, was a young woman with firm breasts and a tight pussy!

However, when we started eating I changed my mind about wanting to skip the meal. It was food from the gods. The best that I have ever had. And the wine was a revelation. I've had vintage wine before, but that was plonk compared to what Bertie was serving.

When we'd finished eating and drinking, my stomach was full and I was tipsy. If it was to end, without the women joining us, I wouldn't be too disappointed.

Edward was now looking anxiously at Bertie, so something was about to happen. Very soon the women would be joining us.

"Jeb, let me tell you what we do now."

Bertie then did that, and it wasn't what I'd expected. The women didn't come to us, we were to go to them. And it wasn't as simple as just going to a room to meet them.

At the back of the room that we were in, was a door to a corridor. In that corridor were three more doors, numbered one, two and three. Behind each of those doors was a separate room, and inside it was a woman. We were going to draw lots to determine which room we would go to. And to make the encounter as interesting as possible, each of those rooms had a different theme.

Number one was a Massage Parlour. The second was a Sauna. Number three was just referred to as GH. I had no idea what that was, but I was too embarrassed to ask. But very soon I would know, because that's the number that I got!

As I opened door three, I was excited, but when I walked into the room, that changed to confusion.

It was empty. There wasn't even a carpet, just bare floorboards. Was this Bertie's idea of a joke? I'd turned to leave, when somebody spoke. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It had come from the other side of the wall.

"Are you trapped? I might be able to knock down part of the wall so that you can get out."

For some reason, that I was struggling to understand, that made her laugh.

When she'd finished, she said, "Is this your first time here?"

I nodded, and then I realized that I needed to speak.

"Yes."

"And I'm assuming that you don't know what a Glory Hole is?"

I now knew what GH stood for, but Glory Hole meant nothing to me.

"That's right."

"How old are you?"

"Fifty."

She laughed again, and this time I understood why. Glory Hole must be an expression that every adult should know, but somehow I'd managed to get to an advanced age without learning what it was.

"Did you notice the panels on the wall?"

Before I could answer her she said more.

"When I open them, the top two holes are for my tits and the bottom one is for you to put your cock in."

I hadn't noticed them, but I wasn't going to tell her that. So that was how we were supposed to have sex. Wouldn't it just be easier for both of us to be in the same room?

When I told her that, I heard her sigh, and then she said, "This is anonymous sex, done in a sleazy way, it's exciting."

It would be more exciting if I could see her face. Edward had said that all the women were beautiful, and that for me, was a big turn-on.

"So are we going to fuck, or are you going to fuck off?"

That was a silly question, of course I was going to stay!

And before starting we should introduce ourselves. Since this was supposed to be anonymous sex, I should use a false name.

"I'm Rocky, what shall I call you?"

That got a chuckle from her.

"That's a good name to use. My working name is Vixen."

As soon as the top two panels were open, her large breasts were in the holes. She was a busty woman. I liked that, but what I liked even more were her nipples. They were a thing of beauty. Impressively long, and the thickest that I'd ever seen. Just looking at them was making my mouth water.

I put my hands underneath them so that I could feel their weight, they were heavy. Then I gently caressed them, making sure to keep away from her impressive nipples. I was saving them for later. Her skin was silky smooth, and her large mounds were firm. These were tits of the highest order. They reminded me of Mary's when she was in her early twenties, but Vixen's were better. They were at least a cup size bigger, and her nipples were plumper.

I'd resisted for as long as I was able to. It was now time to feast on those nipples. I touched the right one, just a gentle flick of it with a single finger. That made her moan. Good, she had responsive nipples. The next touch was firmer and for longer. She purred.

When Vixen had told me what a Glory Hole was, I regarded it as just a novelty, and that it could never be as good as being with your lover in the same room. Now I was starting to understand its appeal.

The barrier between us was slowing us down, giving me more time to savour her body. If we were together, then my fingers would already be in her pussy. And because I couldn't see her, my imagination could run wild. She could be anybody I wanted her to be. Lexi, who worked for me, had big tits. Given the opportunity, I'd happily fuck her. That was unlikely to happen, but it would be easy to pretend that it was her on the other side of the wall.

My mouth was now on her swollen nipple, sucking it long and hard. It was driving her crazy. And it wasn't just her that was excited. My cock was doing its best to burst out of my trousers. I was fifty years old, and I'll admit that occasionally I have a problem getting it up. But not tonight. It was already rock-hard, and it would stay like that until I'd emptied my balls into her young pussy.

"You're going to have to stop playing with my tits, they're getting too sensitive. After I've closed the top panels I'll open the bottom one."

That often happens with Mary, but Vixen had given me longer than I normally get with her. I'd had at least ten minutes on her ripe nipples, and during that time I'd been rough. Both nipples had been sucked hard, and the one that hadn't been in my mouth had got the eager attention of my fingers.

When she removed her tits, I tried to look through one of the holes, but she was too quick for me. The panels were closed before I could see anything.

While I was waiting for the bottom hole to open up, I took my trousers off. When I lowered my underwear my cock sprang out. It was at its best, and eager to be inside her pussy.

She was having trouble opening the bottom panel, and hearing her cursing made me smile. When it was eventually open, she gave a deep sigh.

"That was hard work. Put your hand through the hole, I like to be fingered before I'm fucked."

She didn't need to ask me twice. I thrust my hand in, and then I blindly moved it around. That made her laugh.

"Wait until I get near to you."

Her hand then grabbed mine, and she placed it on her thigh. As soon as she released it, I started moving it towards her pussy.

I loved the firmness of her leg, and then there was softness. I'd reached my destination and my fingers were all over it. She had large labia, and I was parting them so that I could get to her opening. When I found it she uttered a low moan. I then pushed a single finger deep into her honeypot. That got another moan from her, and this time it was a lot louder. I was now grinning, and it was so wide that it was cracking my face. That single digit, that was in her up to the knuckles, had told me everything about her pussy.

It was gloriously wet, deliciously hot, and wonderfully tight!

When I gave her a second finger she gasped. My cock was now twitching, eager to get into her very tight pussy.

"Please be gentle with me."

I thought she was trying to be funny, but then I realized that she was being serious. When I started moving my fingers I did it slowly, to give her time to get used to them.

"Not that gentle."

She then laughed. That irritated me. I was trying my best to get it right, so laughing at me because I wasn't succeeding wasn't going to help.

I speeded up, only stopping when she started moaning. I now knew how she liked to be fingered. It was time to find out how she liked her clit playing with.

Putting my other hand into the hole in the wall as well was a tight squeeze, but eventually I managed it. The fingers from that hand were burrowing into her meaty folds. Somewhere, down there, was her precious jewel. It was well-hidden, but I knew when I'd found it because of her reaction. She'd gasped, and then her body had briefly gone rigid.

"Rub it as fast as you can, I like to come quickly," then she said something else, and it made my heart race.

"As soon as my climax has finished we can fuck."

I now had an incentive to make her come, and it was a big one. Just thinking about pushing my cock deep into her juicy pussy was exciting me more than I thought was possible. Actually fucking her might be too much for me. Hopefully, I wasn't going to have a heart attack, but if I did, while my cock was inside her, then what a way to die!

The lady had asked for it to be fast, and it was. The finger on her clit was a blur, and, as an added bonus for her, she was also being fingered fast, and at times, even furiously.

I knew that was a winning combination, and that very soon she would reach it. However, when she did come, it still took me by surprise, because it was so sudden. There was no warning, she was fully in it in the blink of an eye.

I could hear her, but I wished that I could see her, especially her face. It would be contorted as her orgasm surged through her body.

I waited until she was silent before removing my fingers from her pussy. Then I took my hands out of the hole. I couldn't resist smelling and tasting my sticky fingers. To me, the smell was better than any expensive perfume, and the taste was a match for even the finest gourmet food.