Inspiration

DISCLAIMER:

Any and all breath play portrayed in MY stories should not be attempted by the inexperienced! EDUCATION is key concerning experimentation within the breath play fetish as is CAUTION and PRECAUTION and a TRUSTWORTHY PARTNER!

*****

"You never got his fucking number?" Stew asked in disbelief, "And you never gave him your fucking number?" He stood leaned against the bookstore checkout with a hand on his hip and dumbfounded look on his face.

Rosangela shook her head then grabbed a box of books. She numbly replied, "I don't wanna talk about it right now." She left the checkout.

Stew frowned, throughout the years he and Rosangela were friends and co-workers he never saw her in such a state.

He leaned with his elbow on the counter and rested his chin against his hand. He watched her sluggishly stroll away with the load of books. He huffed, knew immediately that his friend likely had fallen for the author in those short few days.

Stew's observation, Rosangela was desperate to deny to herself. She wanted to believe it was impossible to want more from something that wasn't meant to be more than just fucking. And that's how she tried to keep it.

Rosangela continued with her daily life and as it continued, she saw not one glimpse of the author Victor Hardway except on the back inside of his books still on her shelf and on the shelves in the bookstore.

Bit by bit, day by day she perked, became her old cocky self but no matter what, those three days remained always at the back of her mined.

Yet, though she perked up, something changed.

That last evening with Victor Hardway was the last time she experienced her secret fetish. She found no energy to pull the suitcase from under the bed. She seemed to lack the desire to bring herself into breathlessness because it seemed solo play no longer was part of her.

Yes, there were moments she found herself within the memories of those few days and couldn't resist stimulating herself into a mediocre orgasm which only frustrated her sexual side.

And, so, she went on with a pierced lip smile. Her friendship with Stew remained the same as did her job at the bookstore.

The days moved by and reached into months. Or course she thought about the author and at moments, she wondered if he thought about her.

Was he writing his book that 'starred' her? Had he finished his painting that was of her? Would her image join the wall with the other painted women? Would her photos be displayed somewhere in his loft apartment?

Or, perhaps, he had found a different muse that lacked the complications she gave him?

Then after nearly six months that particular erotic author and artist managed to creep into her life, again.

Rosangela arrived at the bookstore and helped open it up with Stew and their boss Al. It was delivery day and that meant new books would be displayed throughout the store.

The delivery man arrived with four boxes and Al signed for them as Rosangela and Stew prepped their registers.

Al thanked the delivery man after the boxes were stacked behind the check out. The middle aged man chimed, "About time!"

Rosangela smiled as she counted the cash in her till.

Al stated, "Make sure these are put in the display window, will ya?" He turned and headed for his office.

Stew shouted, "Yes, boss!" He stepped to the boxes and grabbed the inventory sheet. His eyes frowned at first then slowly widened. He stood silent as his eyes shifted and looked to Rosangela.

Rosangela has this odd feeling Stew was likely staring at her. Without looking at him she questioned, "What?"

He slowly swallowed then reluctantly announced, "We just received a shipment of the latest Victor Hardway novel."

She froze, felt her heart skip a beat as she held her breath. She shrugged then crammed the money into the till and said, "Okay."

He glanced at the inventory sheet, read the book title then stated, "Yeah, um, January."

"What about January?" she asked then glanced at him.

"Um," he mumbled then explained, "Yeah, that's the title. January."

Her eyes frowned with question then suddenly snatched the inventory sheet from Stew's hand. Her eyes darted and quickly read the title of Victory Hardway's new book. Her face twisted in all sorts of directions of emotions. She mumbled, "What the..."

He was confused and questioned, "I thought he was supposed to name it after you?"

She quickly ordered, "Open the box!"

He leaned back in response to her snippy demand then grimaced.

She slammed the inventory sheet on the counter then grumbled. She shook her head then snatched a box cutter from under the counter and stepped to the boxes. She slit the box cutter across the clear tape seal then pried open the box. The padding foam was jerked back and her eyes looked to the brand new books.

Her eyes frowned with confusion and question. She snatched up a book and eyed the cover. In deed the title was January but the image she saw was a depiction of her.

She stood there staring at the book as Stew leaned closer eyeing the book as well.

Stew nodded with approval as he saw his friend and co-worker in a very detailed kinky image. He commented, "Nice, he did you justice."

Her head darted and eyes narrowed the moment they were on Stew. She allowed the book to drop from her hand and thud atop the others.

His eyes shifted and saw the disapproving expression narrowed his direction. He spread his lips into a wide innocent grin.

She held her glare then stated, "Just for that, you're setting up the damned display." She watched his mouth gape then she pleasingly smiled.

The day went on and, yes, Stew had inventory duty with Victor Hardway's latest book. By himself, he set up the window display which included a ten times blown up image of the book cover and the latest black and white photo of the author.

Rosangela avoided the books as much as possible. But eventually customers entered to purchase their own personal copy and she had no choice but to come face to face with each and every purchased copy with her likeness on the cover.

She avoided eye contact with the customers as she rang up their purchases, those with the book. Yet, there was no avoiding comments such as, "She kinda looks like you." and questions such as "Is that you?" And each time, she denied their suspicions.

Nearing closing, Al came bouncing out of his office with a huge smile and approached his most valuable employees Stew and Rosangela. He announced, "Great news!" His smile beamed with pride.

The two employees looked to their employer with question and smiles.

Al cleared his throat and announced, "We have been given the honor of being the first bookstore to start off Victor Hardway's signing tour!" he clasped his hands together with excitement, "He'll be here both Friday and Saturday!"

Rosangela's face started to ache, forced her smile to remain though inside she cringed at the thought of being in the same bookstore with the author, the same bookstore it all began.

Al giddily laughed then turned and headed back to his office to prepare closing the store.

Rosangela's head slowly turned as her smile faded. Her eyes looked to Stew with desperation and she pleaded, "Work for me, please."

Stew shook his head and refused, "No."

She again pleaded with less finesse, "Work for me, dammit."

He continued to shake his head and refused, "No, you know I have plans with James."

She reached and snatched Stew's hand then with a firm squeeze, she again pleaded with lack of sweetness, "Dammit, Stew, work for me!"

He tugged then jerked his hand from her grip and again refused, "Dammit, no!" he reminded, "You damn well know James and I planned this for three weeks."

She grumbled then snipped, "Bitch."

He focused on closing out his till and commented, "Whore."

They both went silent as they worked on their tills.

Stew cleared his throat then inquired, "So, what are you gonna wear?"

Rosangela replied, "I'm thinking that black vinyl pencil skirt."

He paused and looked at her with a smile then agreed, "Yeah, that will be so hot." he then perked with excitement, "Oh, you should so do a little pin-uppy Victory Roll thingy with the hair." He nodded in agreement to his suggestion.

She nodded then agreed, "I think I will."

He smiled, "Awesome, you'll look super fuck-able."

She loudly laughed then her face lost all humor. She groaned, "Ah, shit."

He hummed, "Hmm?"

She again groaned, "Marcella."

He grimaced then remembered, "That's right, you're working Friday and Saturday with the Italian exchange student Marcella the Harlot." He shook his head in pity then chuckled, "And she's so gonna wanna fuck the old guy cause she's a slut and he's famous, kinda."

Her face drained of expression then she released a little whine. Was she more nervous about seeing the author again after several months or more so disliked the idea of her co-worker Marcella aiming her whore eyeballs at the author?

Stew made one final comment, "Maybe I'll swing by Saturday and see if you either murder Marcella or the old guy." he frowned then stated, "Hey he's like sixty now, he's older old."

Rosangela swung her arm and whacked Stew in the arm.

He grimaced with a pained groan as he rubbed his struck upper arm.

She was nervous as hell as she stepped across the snow lined street. Rosangela dreaded the moment she started her Friday shift at the bookstore. She was fearful of seeing the author again after those several months of pretending she moved on.

She stepped up onto the icy patched sidewalk, her eyes looked to the stunning image of the Victor Hardway in the display window beside the image of his book. Then her eyes shifted up and looked at Al's idea of promotion, a banner stretched above the entrance announcing that author would be signing for those two days.

She nervously grimaced, her hand clutched the collar of her mock fur trimmed winter Pea-coat. Her breaths were visible against the brightly lit morning air as she felt her heart pound inside her chest. Maybe she guessed that day would come but had hoped it would have at the end of the author's book tour which she hoped would give her more time to recover and forget.

Forward she pushed herself then entered the warmth of the bookstore, the door chimed her entrance.

The first person she saw was Marcella, a blonde haired foreign exchange student who was in deed from Italy with a matching Italian accent that all the nerds who came to the store melted for.

She forced a smile and greeted, "Good morning, Marcella." She started unbuttoning her coat as she moved for the check out counter.

Marcella, a naturally tanned beauty, smiled and looked to Rosangela and greeted with her accent, "Buongiorno, Rosangela." Her light brown eyes peered down at the Victor Hardway novel in her hands.

Rosangela stepped behind the counter and hung up her coat.

Marcella looked to Rosangela then back to the book and again back to Rosangela. She stepped up to her co-worker eyeing the similarities between the woman on the cover and Rosangela.

Al stepped around the corner and greeted with a smiled, "Morning, ladies!"

Marcella looked to Al then asked his opinion as she offered him the book, "Does she not look like Rosangela?"

Rosangela froze mid way pinning on her name tag.

Al glanced at the book then shrugged and commented, "Hmm, kinda."

Marcella drew the book back then gave her opinion, "Yes, kind of but the woman on the cover is truly more beautiful."

Rosangela's jaw dropped and her mind screamed, what a bitch!

Al again shrugged then smiled wide and nearly gave a pep talk, "Well, ladies, Mr. Hardway will be here at any moment and I'm expecting a packed house!" he beamed with dollar signs almost visible in his gleaming eyes, "We need to make sure the shelves are fully stocked with his books." He gave a little encouraging fist bump to the air then spun and disappeared.

Marcella giggled then returned to her register. She announced, "I so want him to sign my copy."

Rosangela hated the younger blonde Italian bimbo but held her composure as she simply hummed, "Hmm, hmm." She opened her register.

Marcella continued, "He is but so handsome and his books are so loved in Italy." she beamed with mischief as her eyes eyed the photo of the author, "I will be the envy in my town to have met him."

Rosangela's head bobbed as she again hummed with true lack of interest while her fingers quickly worked through the bills in the register. She just wished that woman would shut up. She wished Stew was there instead but more so wished she wasn't there. She had no idea what or if anything would transpire.

Over and over she thought how that day would go. So many different scenarios she worked through but not the one was definite. There was no way to predict how she would react upon seeing Victor Hardway again. Yet, she had one real desire, strangle the bitch to her right.

The door chimed.

Rosangela's didn't look up, fearful of looking up. Then she heard Marcella and she thought, was the slut having an orgasm?

"Good morning!" publishing agent Bob sang as he quickly spotted the blonde behind checkout, his chubby face beamed.

Marcella chimed, "Buongiorno." she leaned against the counter making her cleavage more visible, "May I help you?"

Bob grinned then stepped up to the checkout eagerly accepting the offered cleavage visual. He sang, "Why yes." he loved the accent, "I'm Bob, his publishing agent." He aimed his thumb behind him.

There she was, he immediately praised in thought, and she looked amazing. Victor Hardway's eyes peered from beneath the cast shadow of his signature navy blue suede fedora and focused on his previous inspirational muse who not once looked up. He had hoped she was still employed there, he might have known beforehand if he had pushed himself to visit. Yet, throughout those months he kept a good distance.

Rosangela turned, not even a glance, then left the checkout. She announced, "I'll get Al." Her heart thudded rapidly in her chest as she marched on her platform ankle boots towards Al's office. She felt as if all her blood had completely drained down into those gorgeous boots, her legs felt somewhat wobbly.

She retreated to Al's office door then knocked on the glass followed by stating, "They're here!"

Al swung the door open then rushed passed Rosangela in a hurry to greet the agent Bob and Victor Hardway.

She remained at the open office door as she listened to Al loudly greet the special guests.

Can she do it? Could she seriously continue throughout the day with him in the same building? Could she refrain herself from bitch slapping Marcella if the woman went too far and attempted to show more than her cleavage to the author? Why was she even thinking of harming another woman over him?

She took a deep breath, tried to ignore the ample butt kissing. She determined she would keep her distance, avoid looking at him at all costs. The less she saw of him in those two days, the better off she would be.

She took another breath then shifted on her boots, smoothed her slightly trembling hands down the sleek vinyl snug over her hips. Her eyes caught a quick glimpse of the author, her heart skipped a beat, and she made the decision to do the Friday inventory and keep herself hidden in the stock room.

Rosangela held herself together, when needed she returned to the checkout and quietly helped Marcella deal with customers but once a rush was over she returned to the stock room. Her ability to avoid the author was successful besides he was obviously being kept busy with all his female fans.

Inside the stock room she tried to be focused on the inventory but her mind would constantly trail with temptation. She found herself pausing, a thoughtful glaze would drift over her eyes as the idea of approaching the author would emerge. For a minute she'd stand with that thought but she managed to pull herself back then again attempt continuing with the inventory.

A voice came from the stock room doorway, "Rosangela."

Rosangela immediately knew the accent. With a forced smile she looked to Marcella and hummed, "Hmm?"

Marcella smiled wide with her pearly perfect teeth then requested, "Would you be kind enough to run the checkout." she batted her thick lashes, "I would like to have Signore Hardway sign my book copy."

Rosangela swallowed then nodded while her face again started to ache from the painful fake smile.

Marcella chimed, "Oh, thank you!" She girlishly giggled then hurried out of the doorway.

Rosangela's smile quickly disappeared and formed an annoyed sneer.

Victor sat at his signing post, more books he signed than the previous time at the bookstore, it was the first signing of the tour. He finished signing a simple sentiment then handed the book over to a middle aged giddy woman. "Thank you," he sang with a smile and watched the woman nearly bounce then listened to her giggle.

His eyes caught glimpse of the approaching checkout girl but from the corner of his eye he saw Rosangela head for the front of the store.

He had kept an eye out for Rosangela all those hours but rarely caught sight of her, only when she left wherever she was hiding. He knew she kept herself scarce because of him. Though his glimpses were spaced and short, he praised each one for she looked more inspirational than the last time he saw her. His eyes frowned, the last time he saw her, she retreated from his apartment and life.

A throat cleared.

He blinked then looked up at the obvious beautiful woman, glanced her name tag, Marcella. He smiled up at the blonde store clerk.

Marcella laid it all out, pulled out her charms with a thick layer of flirt. She greeted the author, "Ciao, Signore Hardway." Her accent typically won her huge points with most every man.

His brows lifted, heard the obvious flirt, then greeted in response, "Hello."

Marcella reached her copy of January to the author and sang, "Per fevore, would sign this for me?"

He sang back, "Of course." He took the book, set it on the table but his eyes took a moment to look at the most perfect of all his book covers. He flipped the cover open.

Marcella sang her name, "Marcella."

"Hmm," he hummed then wisp the tip of his pen against the blank page.

Marcella stood for a moment, uncertain if her charms were working on the author then broke the silence. "Signore," she said and watched as he didn't look up as expected, "Um, the cover."

"Yes?" he questioned as he finished signing his signature then closed the book. He looked up at the woman.

"Yes," Marcella spoke, somewhat flabbergasted that there seemed no effect on the author, "Yes, who is the woman on the cover?"

He asked, "Why?" He sensed that the woman in front of him saw what likely everyone saw, Rosangela.

Marcella felt slightly awkward for the author seemed to lack interest in her which was surprising to her. She smiled and commented, "The woman, she looks like, well, resembles my co-worker..."

He interrupted, "Yes she does look like Rosangela." his lips formed his typical slanted grin as he handed the book back to Marcella then stated, "Because she is Rosangela." He was amused, watched the woman's face drain into a shocked expression as she fumbled to retrieve the book.

He completely changed focus and looked to his agent. He shouted, "Bob, I need a break and coffee!"

Marcella was beyond shocked or stunned. She took an awkward step backwards then spun on her heels.

Bob rushed up to the table, gave Victor a thumbs up and stated, "Sure thing!" He turned and headed for the entrance.

Victor slightly leaned to the right, watched the dumbfounded Marcella return to the checkout which sent Rosangela away. His eyes followed Rosangela then watched her disappear into a hallway.