She was roaming the half-priced book store with a basket in her elbow. We had been venturing to this store more often, as the library was a bit of a distance and we usually only went if we wanted to make a day out of it. It didn't matter much to her; a room full of books was a room that kept her happy. I wasn't exactly sure why she loved the beaten up, cheap novels so much. She had hinted once that she wasn't too keen on me spending so much money on her, and at the rate she flew through books she must have felt like her avid reading was starting to put a dent in my wallet. I tried my best to assure her that I was more than financially stable without sounding arrogant, especially because she didn't really know how much money I had. She knew I was rich enough to keep up a large estate and she knew I was somewhat of a businessman, but because we rarely discussed expenses, she had no clue that I was close to coming up on a million net.
I pretended to be looking through records at the front of the store, occasionally chatting with an older man who wanted me to know all about the sixties. The lighting was yellow, the store was massive and yet insanely cluttered, and the smell of coffee was almost overpowering. Everyone in the store appeared to either be an intellectual, trendy millennial around my age, or of an earthier, border-line hippie variety. The window I was standing in front of had beds of pale pink flowers planted in its sill, the sunlight warming my back through my black and white baseball tee. It was late May, marking the two month anniversary of the day I met Juliet, and I was spending it in the most perfect way I could imagine.
She hated the idea of it, but once I was inspired she knew how hard it was to get me off track. So there she stood, trying to flip through a novel in the historical fiction area of the store, desperately distracted by the vibrator in her pussy. I was casually clicking the remote in the pocket of my khaki shorts as if it were a pen as I spoke to the man.
"Nina Simone- Now that woman could sing."
I nodded in agreement.
"This one right here," He showed me the cover of "I Put a Spell on You". "Some of her best known work. Now, what's a popular one you might know...? Have you ever heard 'Feeling Good'?"
"I was only raised on that song."
"You were raised by cool parents."
"More like a radically liberal older brother who wanted me to grow up and be just like him."
The man glanced around to see the tall wooden bookshelves, scratching his coarse silver beard.
"Who's that girl you keep peerin' at?"
"Sorry?"
"That girl," He waved towards her. "In the little denim dress. Do you know her or are you just staring?"
"That's Juliet," I said, trying to ignore the way my face heated.
"She your girl?"
I nodded.
"Cute," He observed.
He was right, she did look cute. Her dark, long hair was tied back with a grey ribbon that matched that grey of her sneakers. She looked ready for summer in her sleeveless sundress, pale freckles lightly dotting her shoulders from sun exposure. Her over-sized sunglasses topped her hair, causing her to fit in with some of the more fashionable people in the room. Of course, it was easy to get caught up in how effortlessly beautiful she was. God knows I did it all the time. However, I was currently more focused on the way she was squirming a bit as she read, her smooth legs twisting slightly and her heel digging into the ground. As I held the button down for a particularly long amount of time, I could barely see a blush traveling down her cheeks. With her shy streak, she was already socially awkward. Adding a vibrator to the mix just made her outing more...entertaining, for me, at least.
It was silent but a fair size, filling her pussy, though only enough to tease her, and latching onto her clit with a suctioning attachment. Tight, innocent panties kept the vibrator in place, but I knew they must have been soaked through. It always made her feel sluttier when I made her soak her pretty pastel underwear.
Saying goodbye to the stranger, I made my way to her, wrapping my arm around her waist as I approached, my other hand in my pocket pressing down on the button.
"Hey, what're you looking at?" I asked, feigning innocent curiosity.
She pouted up at me, putting the basket on the floor.
"Ah, baby," I sympathized. "I'm sorry."
She hugged me, and I held her in my arms for a little bit. She was trembling slightly, but was still upset with me. Especially because I was holding down the button the entire time.
"Are you having fun?"
Her gaze could pierce glass.
"I am." I said honestly. "I think I'm going to up the intensity."
Her eyes widened.
"What?" I asked innocently. "Don't you want to come?"
She glanced around, making sure no one could hear us.
"Not here."
"That's a shame." I pressed my lips together. "I wasn't sure if I was feeling like sex later. You could always just get yourself off at home, though."
"You're funny." She deadpanned.
I laughed, still unused to her speaking somewhat more freely with me.
"I think I'll turn it up anyways." I decided. "Just because I can. It'll be okay, it's not like anyone's going to hear it. And since you don't want to come, you're not allowed to."
I turned the somewhat comedic red dial on the remote in my pocket before holding down the button once more. She buried her face in my chest, humiliated and frustrated.
