Bethany loves it when two things come together, either by accident or design. The first is when she is traveling on the London Underground and finishes the book she is reading before her stop and she sighs with delight as she closes the back cover.
The second is that she can leave the book on the seat for someone else to read, and in this case Bethany hopes it will be the very attractive black man sitting opposite, his brown eyes behind tortoiseshell glasses gazing at her thighs exposed by the indecently short denim skirt she is wearing. As she reaches down for her rucksack on the floor between her feet, she deliberately opens her legs to make sure he sees the pink handle of a wi-fi controlled vibrator protruding from the lips of her shaven pussy, her clit standing proud at the apex of her labia as the vibrator sends blissful pulses deep into her cunt.
The train's loudspeaker announces her stop and Bethany quickly gets to her feet, noticing with pleasure that her wanton display has given the black guy a very noticeable erection. But, because she is buxom, curvy and petite, she has to fight to get off the train or be trapped by the tide of oncoming passengers.
Aware she has only minutes to get to the design consultancy where she is doing work experience as a trainee graphic designer before her boss sends her an annoyed/impatient text, Bethany runs into a Starbucks and orders a cappuccino and then shoots out the door, barreling straight into the muscled chest of the guy from the train.
"Oh god, I'm sorry," the guy says in an American accent which sends a thrill of arousal deep into Bethany's pussy.
"That's okay," she says with a smile, wondering if their second meeting is just a coincidence or if the guy has followed her deliberately. "It's like in my favorite movie where Hugh Grant spills orange juice all over Julia Roberts' breasts..."
"'Notting Hill' is your favorite movie? Mine too," the guy says with a broad smile. Bethany smiles back and then turns away to cross the street to the offices of the company where she works.
"Listen, I'm sorry to follow you," the guy says quickly. "But you left your book on the train and I thought you might want it back?"
"Oh no," Bethany says, laughing. "If you look inside the front cover you'll see it's a BookCrossing donation."
"Sorry?" the guy says and Bethany puts her hand on his arm, concerned she might have offended him when he was only being helpful.
"The whole world becomes a library," she says. "It's a lovely idea, don't you think?"
The smartphone in her pocket buzzes but Bethany ignores it and takes a sip of her coffee. Then she explains.
"You leave a book in a public place like the Tube or a park bench, someone picks it up, reads it then passes it on. Of course, it only works if the book isn't garbage and that one definitely isn't so go on, read it with my compliments."
The American looks into Bethany's eyes and he smiles then glances downwards at the swell of her huge breasts, her pretty lace bra under her blouse overflowing with their weight. Bethany feels her nipples tingle and she decides her first stop when she reaches the office will be to the bathroom to relieve the tension of being so aroused she is in danger of climaxing outside a Starbucks just across the street from her office.
"Do you work round here?" the guy asks, and Bethany nods her head.
"Just there," she says, and grimaces as her smartphone buzzes again. "Why?"
"So I can leave a book you might like at the reception desk," he says to her surprise and delight.
"I
would
like that," she says and then she checks the traffic and crosses the road without looking back. She wants to, she really wants to, but she is savvy enough not to make a casual encounter into a happy-ever-after, however much she is attracted to her fellow booklover...
*
Five o'clock comes and goes which should mean Bethany can pack up and go home but she knows her boss expects her to make up the half hour she was late despite the lame excuse she gave him that someone jumped in front of her Tube train.
Bethany sighs, grits her teeth and decides to stay until six and then, whatever her boss thinks, head home for a glass of the Zinfandel she has in her refrigerator. She wonders whether to have sushi with that or Indian food which occupies her mind for the remaining time and then she downs tools, turns off the light above her drawing board, picks up her laptop bag and waves goodbye to her boss who, obviously having forgiven her for the outrageous lies and tardiness, waves back.
As Bethany walks through the reception area, she notices a package left on the desk. She sees the wrapping is from Hatchards, the Queen's booksellers, and she walks across to take a closer look.
There is a label attached with the words, 'The BookCrossing Girl'. She turns it over to see the message on the back: 'Hope you enjoy this. Glenn,' and underneath is a phone number. Smiling happily to herself, Bethany slips the book in her bag and decides she will have Indian food for dinner.
*
When she arrives at the house she shares with two trainee nurses who work nights, Bethany slips a plate into the oven to warm and pours herself a large glass of the Zinfandel. She cuts the label off the package and then tears off the wrapping.
The book is by a French woman author Bethany has never heard of translated into English. The title, 'The Girl Who Reads on the Métro', makes Bethany smile and she starts reading the moment she serves her meal, a fork in one hand and the book in the other. When she finishes eating she stretches out on the sofa, reading until she closes the cover with a satisfied sigh. Without thinking she reaches for her smartphone and dials Glenn's number. It is only as she lifts the phone to her ear that she sees it is 10.45pm and she wonders whether to cut the call but then hears Glenn say, "Hey, Bethany, how's things?"
"Glenn, I'm sorry it's so late," Bethany says, blushing with embarrassment. "I just wanted to thank you for the lovely book but I didn't see what time it is. Did I disturb you?"
"No, you didn't," Glenn says. "And you're very welcome."
His voice curls its way along Bethany's spine and sends little pleasure signals to her lady parts which is really nice.
"Okay, well, it was really nice of you so I'll go now," she says, reluctant to cut the call.
"Bethany, I wondered -" Glenn starts to say.
She jumps in, "Yes?" hoping he will invite her out.
"What are you doing Friday night, around 6.30pm?"
"I have nothing planned. Why?"
"My company published the book and the author is doing a book signing at Waterstone's Piccadilly. You could meet her if you like?"
"That would great," Bethany says. "Shall I meet you there?"
"Great," Glenn says, sounding pleased. "See you Friday night?"
"I'm looking forward to it," Bethany says and she smiles as she ends the call.
*
Bethany decides to go straight from work to the bookstore so she packs a makeup bag and a dark purple sweater dress with matching thigh-highs and shoes. She decides it never hurts to mix business with pleasure so she takes her design portfolio so she can ask Glenn if his company might use her services in a freelance capacity as a graphic designer.
As soon as the office clears for the night Bethany slips into the ladies to change. She folds her blouse and bra into her rucksack and pulls on the figure-hugging sweater dress and then smooths the stockings over her legs. She reaches into her handbag for her wi-fi controlled vibrator and slips the vibrator into her pussy, reaching for her phone to set it at a level that gives her sweet little pulses and keeps her creamy rather than, as it was on the Tube train when she first met Glenn, so fierce she found it difficult to breathe because she was climaxing so hard.
Then she rummages in her bag again and finds a black buttplug and a tube of lubricant. Applying one to the other, she reaches back to hold the cheeks of her ass open so she can apply gentle pressure to her anus until it relaxes and envelopes the widest part of the plug. Her breasts bouncing and jiggling beneath her sweater dress whenever she moves, her pussy wet with her cream, the sensitive nerve endings in her asshole stimulated by the slippery friction of the plug, Bethany smiles and freshens her makeup, extremely excited by the thought of being fucked silly but her first ever black lover.
*
Bethany arrives at Waterstone's and sees the signs directing guests to the signing. She looks for Glenn and waves at him, smiling as he excuses himself from talking to a woman sitting at a desk, a pile of books at her side, and walks across.
"You made it!" he says, obviously delighted.
"Of course," Bethany smiles, enjoying the way Glenn finds it impossible not to stare at her jiggling breasts, taking in their size and weight under her sweater dress, her nipples hard with her arousal.
"Come on and I'll introduce you," he says, leading the way.
Bethany is relieved that Catherine has no difficulty in understanding what she says in praise of 'The Girl on the Métro' and signs Bethany's book just as Glenn returns with three glasses of wine, hands one to Catherine and then leads Bethany into the space between two bookshelves, raising his glass in a toast.
"To the BookCrossing scheme which enabled me to meet you," he says.
Bethany is just about to respond when there is a flurry of noise behind them.
"Look, I'm sorry," Glenn says. "I need to help Catherine by translating any question she's asked."
"Of course, you go," Bethany says, sipping her wine.
"But..."
