· 6 min read
Passion Among the Bookshelves - part 1
‘You promise not to tell anyone?’ you ask. ‘No one needs to know, and afterwards, if you want to go and slut around, that’s fine, but at least the first time will be the right way.’
‘YN, I—’ Justin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. ‘I can’t do this with you. I appreciate it, but … we’re best friends. I don’t want to—’
You interrupt him by starting to unbutton your dress.
‘What are you doing?’ Justin asks.
‘I’m going to help you stop thinking of me as a friend,’ you reply.
You reach the last button just above your waist and open the dress to reveal you’re not wearing a bra.
‘Holy shit,’ he whispers at the sight of your bare breasts.
You’re not big on top, but your breasts are perky, perfectly round, and your pink nipples are erect and less than a foot from their face.
You let the dress drop to the floor.
Justin’s jaw falls with it.
You’re now standing in front of him in just a red thong.
Basically just some red string and a patch of lace between your thighs.
Speechless, his eyes roam up and down your body.
You’re breathing fast, your small breasts rising and falling with each breath.
Your stomach is smooth and flat, and your hips flare out just enough to give your slender figure a nice shape. Justin looks at your soft inner thighs and you can see the bulge of his cock grow in his pants.
‘Do you like them?’ you ask, cupping your breasts.
‘I—’
‘I know they’re not that big,’ you say, your thumbs caressing your nipples. ‘But they’re all yours.’
‘They’re …’ Justin swallows nervously. ‘They’re beautiful.’ Looking up at you, he says, ‘You’re beautiful.’
‘Really?’ To your surprise, you blush. ‘You think so?’
‘Yes.’ his fingers trembling, he reaches out and places his hands on your hips. ‘Damn, you look good.’
You wake up alone in your bedroom, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin and recalling the previous night’s events with Peter. The setting is intimate and cozy, with soft light filtering through the windows. As you stretch, you can’t help but smile at the memory of his touch and the passionate embrace that followed.
Peter enters your room carrying a tray of breakfast items, smiling at you as you sit up in bed. ‘Good morning, Evelyn,’ he says softly, setting the tray down on your nightstand.
‘Morning, Peter,’ you reply, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. The memory of last night is still fresh in your mind, and you can’t help but feel a mixture of guilt and excitement.
He hands you a cup of tea, his fingers brushing against yours. ‘How did you sleep?’ he asks, his voice low and soothing.
‘Well,’ you say, taking a sip of the hot liquid. ‘Although I must admit, my dreams were quite … vivid.’ You can’t help but smile as you remember the passionate encounter with Peter among the bookshelves.
Peter chuckles softly and takes a seat on the edge of your bed. ‘I must say, mine were as well,’ he admits, his eyes meeting yours. ‘I couldn’t stop thinking about … what happened between us.’
You feel your heart race at his admission, and you’re grateful for the warmth of the tea in your hands to hide your trembling fingers. ‘Neither could I,’ you confess, looking down at your lap.
There’s a moment of silence as you both grapple with your feelings. Finally, Peter speaks up. ‘Evelyn, I need to tell you something.’ His voice is hesitant, and you can see the worry in his eyes.
‘What is it?’ you ask, concerned.
He takes a deep breath before continuing. ‘I never meant for this to happen. I know my place, and I would never intentionally cross the line. But … when we were together last night, it felt so right. I couldn’t help myself.’
You reach out and take his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. ‘Peter, I feel the same way. I know what we did was wrong, but … I can’t deny the way I feel about you.’
He looks at you with a mixture of relief and fear. ‘But Evelyn, if we’re caught … we could both lose everything. My job, your reputation—’
‘I know,’ you interrupt him gently. ‘But we can be careful. We’ll make sure no one finds out.’ You squeeze his hand again, trying to reassure him.
Peter nods, but you can see the doubt in his eyes. He stands up and begins to gather the empty breakfast dishes from your tray. ‘I should go,’ he says quietly. ‘I’ll … see you later.’
As he leaves your room, you feel a pang of sadness in your chest. You know that your love for Peter is forbidden, but you can’t help but hope that somehow, things will work out between you.
Later that day, as the sun begins to set, you make your way to the garden gazebo, just as you and Peter had agreed earlier. The air is warm and fragrant with the scent of flowers, and the soft rustle of leaves provides a soothing soundtrack.
Peter is already there, waiting for you. He stands up as you approach, his eyes filled with longing and desire. ‘Evelyn,’ he says, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘You look beautiful.’
‘Thank you,’ you reply, blushing at the compliment. You take a seat on the bench next to him, and for a moment, you simply sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company.
Finally, Peter speaks up. ‘I’ve been thinking about what we discussed earlier.’ He pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing. ‘I want this, Evelyn. I want to be with you, no matter the consequences.’
You feel your heart soar at his words. ‘I want that too,’ you say, reaching out to take his hand in yours. ‘We’ll find a way to make it work.’
He smiles at you, his eyes filled with love and determination. ‘Together, we can face anything.’
As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the garden, you sit there holding hands, knowing that your love is forbidden but refusing to let it be extinguished.