I've deliberately chosen not to use names in this story as I think it makes it easier for the reader to put themselves into the story, be the character. I may be wrong, but that's why there are no names.
Also, the story ignores safe-sex practice for the sake of the narrative, that's fantasy for you!
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As he entered the bookshop he noticed her, standing by the science fiction books where he was headed. Well, what he saw first was a shining head of fair hair forming a long wave, curving on top of a head just visible above the shelving making its owner three inches taller. It could have belonged to a young girl or an old lady for all he knew. Then he turned into the section and involuntarily slowed his pace. He saw the face of a stunningly attractive woman gazing into the pages of a book held up near her chest. He estimated she was about thirty years old.
Random strands of her hair tumbled down the side of her face, a delicately shaped ear peeked between them. Balanced on her nose was a pair of spectacles focusing her gaze onto the print in front of her. The glasses somehow added to her allure, drawing attention to the fine features of her face.
He observed this within a single step of his slowed pace. He neared her by another step.
She browsed the book in front of a spotlight highlighting the shelf. The white pages of the book reflected the light back onto her, graphically illuminating the top half of her breasts, squeezed together, up and outward by her bra, encased in a "V" shaped top. Two curved mounds of brownish-pink flesh, lined up one behind the other, demanding his observation, gleaming in the light from the pages, rising and ebbing as she breathed. His breath deepened.
She glanced up from considering her purchase to see a man approaching her, a handsome man in his late thirties-early forties she guessed. It crossed her mind that she was glad she wore her new bra today, she was proud to present her fleshy mounds to the world in this way; although always proud of them she'd been apprehensive to share them so openly.
Last month, was her thirtieth birthday. Late that day, as she lay on her sofa after masturbating reading a sexy novel she'd been given by a female friend, she realised how her libido had grown more intense during the past few years and how more often she felt the need to relieve her desires by masturbating. She'd also become more poised in the company of others, particularly men, no longer the timid girl scared of the world; sex in particular; growing into a mature woman any man would desire. Whether it was the Champagne or mother nature, she vowed she would no longer be the shy but nice girl she was and decided it was time she overcame her reticence and began to fully enjoy being a woman, a woman with needs she wanted to fulfil.
She found her courage and the next day, to her surprise, her resolve was still with her. Her mind was made up, she was intent. Gradually her manner changed as did her clothes. Her most pleasing decision was to display her firm and buoyant breasts to anyone who wanted to admire them. She felt bold and confident.
She smiled warmly at the approaching man then looked down again at her soon to be purchased book, but her concentration was now to her side and the effect she hoped the allure of her rolling breasts had.
Her display, but more so her smile, conspired to create a twitch making itself felt in the organ hanging loose between his thighs. He was glad his trousers were baggy, they would help hide any stiffness he might have. He couldn't appear confident with a large bulge between him and the woman he was about to converse with. The silk boxer shorts would not help; damn it.
As he arrived alongside her he looked away from her and studied the shelf. After briefly assessing the titles, he took hold of the book he'd come for. Not wanting to risk her moving away, he thought of something to say.
"Nice breasts"? NO!!!! that was the first thing that sprang to his thoughts. Nice, very nice, tho' her breasts were, for some reason convention doesn't allow their praise, not between strangers anyway, even those wanting not to be strangers. They both knew they were "very nice" but no, not acceptable.
He looked sideways, glancing an urgent look at her breasts, seeming even more arousing this close; his resolve firmed. His eyes continued upwards and looked at her hair.
"I love the way you wear your hair" he said.
Delighted he'd made an opening, she replied...
"Oh!, its a bit of a mess..." she said, brushing a hand across it, making the loose wisps float, adding to her allure,
"...but thank you kind sir!" she added in a lilting voice, smiling her warm smile, warming up his cock.
"What's that your reading?" he added "are you into sci-fi?"
Their conversation continued, building confidence between them. A common interest discussed. They slowly walked to the checkout carrying a book each, chatting all the way.
Then came his next hurdle. They were at the door and he had to get her to continue their encounter somehow.
"I'm going for a coffee" she said "will you join me?"
"Err.. yes I'd love to" he replied, pleasantly surprised.
His organ reacted to her invitation with an inflow of blood, announcing its readiness to him. Her invitation was a clear announcement of the possibility of intimacy and his cock knew it. Unless she was only a tease; his experience told him not, so did the blushing skin of her chest. She was as excited as he was.
They found a cafe, he sat down, and watched as she did the same, her breasts bouncing high then dipping low before her bra regained its grip. She smiled her special smile at his expression.
"I see you're a breast man" she said teasing him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare"
"Yes you did!" she retorted, with a smile.
"Yes, I did!" he agreed, also smiling. They both laughed.
"I'm discovering the enjoyment showing off my cleavage brings, I was rather shy until recently, I'm glad I've finally found some courage!"
He too decided to be bold.