I left an hour early for the 10:00 A.M. meeting and cruised her house a half dozen times before she left. She made three false starts, returning home each time to change her clothes. After I was confident that she was in route, I cut through some sides streets to reach the bookstore in advance of her arrival. I parked back in against a high wall on one end of the B & N store.

She parked in the middle of the lot, locked her car and chain smoked three Marlboro's before entering B & N. In her mid thirties V was blond, 5'4" with a lean swimmer's build. Her skin was porcelain, almost translucent with brown eyes. She wore a Bean fleece, dark blue with grey tweed slacks and Ecco ties. No make up ( I prefer the natural look) and no jewelry. She gave the appearance of a W.H. soccer mom (I have no desire to Top Goth girls) and was to me quite attractive.

I entered directly behind her stopping to browse at the current fiction release. B & N as you know dear readers, typically is large store with a coffee bar and racks of magazines with the majority of the books grouped by category. She wandered searching for the erotica section but spent just as much time appraising the men in the store-hoping to perhaps identify me before locating the right section.

"Screw the Roses-Give me the Thorns" is an oversized book and maintained on the top shelf. She struggled to reach it as I walked up behind her. "A wise choice to begin your exploration with V. Wait I can reach it for you." She froze in place and with one hand the middle of her back, I reached up, secured the book and handed it to her. Up close she was even more attractive than from a distance. Her face was devoid of expression and took not only the book but both of my hands with a strong grip. She stared at me, saying nothing. We were face to face-inches apart both silent-staring into each other's eyes.

I long ago learned the value of silence. She squeezed harder and finally said: "I can't believe you're here."

"Disappointed V?"

"Goodness no. Why would you think that?"

"Just checking."

With the silence broken, we spent the next twenty minutes looking at books. V kept hold of at least one of my hands during the entire time I selected three books for her reading. Molly Devon of course, Laura Antoniou (essays) and a Pat Califia collection of short stories. I bought two coffees (both black) and a double chocolate brownie for V. I later learned dear reader that V subsisted on black coffee, chocolate frosted chocolate donuts and little else in large part due to financial limitations(she was on Medicare disability for her bi-polarism and her ex kept her in financial bondage-routinely failing to pay her court order alimony-I changed all that but I am getting ahead of myself) and collected bottles for cigarettes, gas, coffee and donuts.

We eventually retreated to the front seat of her Pontiac. For the most part she was silent and clung to me-refusing to let go. I stroked the back of her neck, at times with enough strength to make anyone wince. She however pushed into my ministrations, sighing at times in pleasure and fixated on some point outside the car. My hands roamed across her shoulders and could find no bra straps. She finally stripped herself of the fleece revealing a purple Henley and erect nipples. Free of the fleece, she devoured the brownie.

I told her to release the seat back into the horizontal and place her arms over the seat and grasp the head restraint. She gasp, knowing I believe what was coming. By then, the day had grown dark gray and rainy and despite the busy parking lot we had total privacy.

I ranged under her Henley-my fingers playing with either side of her chest-lightly-as soft as a gentle summer breeze-at other times barely brushing her nipples. She trembled, goose bumps appearing everywhere and shuddered and moaned from my soft touch. I went below the waist line of her slacks-stopping just at the start of her pubic line-gentle slow and with a purposeful avoidance of any direct contact to either her nipples or her labia. The smell of her sex was pervasive. At times she mewed, arching her back she sought more direct contact. I frustrated her attempts and after nearly forty minutes with drew my hands recognizing she was close to climax.

"Enough for now V."

"No" she screamed, "you can't leave."

"We'll meet again-we've only just begun."

"When?"

"Saturday night at seven. I'll pick you up at your house, I'll take you to a club on the B Turnpike called L.C. It's a BDSM club. We can watch the people and after you've read these books and watched and you've learned, if you want, we can do a scene."

"Ok" said so reluctantly she looked liked she was on her way to her execution, "you promise?"

"Yes" as I exited the car.

I stood in the freezing rain and watched her drive off-never asking me how I knew where to pick her up.