Nina lingered among the bookshelves, admiring the unexpected treasures on display. About half the books in the shop were new and half were second hand. Most of the second hand ones were cheap rubbish, paperback romances and thrillers from the eighties.
One shelf, though, was of older, more valuable volumes. A hardback Alice in Wonderland from 1936 with beautiful illustrations. Some not quite first edition Hemmingway. She wasn't sure she was really in the market for them but it was a thrill just to be around them.
She was aware that the young man at the counter was pretending to read but kept on looking over at her. Reason told her he was just making sure she wasn't stealing or messing up the precious merchandise. But she couldn't help feeling like he was checking her out.
That was clearly just her vanity talking. There was a time when men used to look at her but she was forty four now. The guy couldn't have been older than twenty five. She was surprised to discover she was still so vain.
She had her back to him as she leafed through the Alice, looking at the psychedelic pictures. She could feel his eyes on her round bottom, or she thought she could.
Nina had always been very self-conscious about her bottom. Her ex husband hadn't helped with cruel comments about her fat arse. But still, she'd read somewhere that young men found bigger bottoms sexy these days, but she wasn't sure she could quite bring herself to believe it.
Not that any such thoughts were on her mind as she had got dressed that morning. She wasn't expecting to see anyone and had picked out the clingy black jogging bottoms for no reason other than comfort.
But now she was here with a hot young man, and he definitely was hot, checking out her curves, she couldn't help feeling how tight and revealing her clothes were.
She stared at the picture of the fat caterpillar smoking what looked suspiciously like a dope but didn't really see it. She was thinking about the young man, imagining his hands running over her body.
It made her feel hot and uncomfortable, but in a way she didn't entirely dislike.
She closed the book and put it back on the shelf. She glanced over at the man, whose eyes were firmly down in his book. Perhaps he hadn't been looking at her at all, not even to stop her shoplifting.
The door jangled with one of those old fashioned bells as she opened it to leave. She started guiltily, it had been so quiet in the shop, just the two of them. She looked over at the man.
For the first time since she'd come in, she caught his eye. He smiled back at her with real warmth.
"Have a great day," he said.
"You too," she mumbled back awkwardly and walked out on the street.
The cottage she was renting was only a five minute walk away and she was glad to be alone behind closed doors.
The little encounter in the bookshop had been brief but intense, even if it was all in her own imagination. It had left her flustered.
She ran upstairs to her room. She closed the curtains, shutting out the view over the sea that she'd so admired when she arrived yesterday. She wanted complete privacy.
There was a full length mirror in the corner of the room. She checked herself out in it, how had she never noticed how much her outfit showed off her arse? She guessed she'd got past caring.
Had he been looking at her? She kept telling herself she was being stupid but she couldn't help thinking he had been.
How long since she had last felt wanted? Was she really so desperate that she was getting wet over the mere thought that a younger man might find her attractive.
She slipped her hand under her jogging bottoms to touch herself. Yes, apparently he had got her extremely wet.
With a sudden impulse she stripped herself naked and looked back at her reflection. It was hard to like what she saw, she saw a fat old woman looking back at her.
But was that just her husband talking? She tried to tell herself so. She wasn't really fat, just curvy, thats just the way she was built. Her waist came in pleasingly enough but she had round hips, a round butt, thick thighs and big round tits. Didn't men like curves though?
And she kept herself in shape. Since the divorce, she'd taken up running and yoga. Why couldn't she see a beautiful, sexy woman looking back at her?
God, that boy had got her so flustered. She thought she was over this. But it was a shock, feeling desired again, even if it was all just in her imagination.
She suddenly felt so fucking horny. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this horny.
Almost without thinking her hands were rubbing between her legs. She glanced up against the mirror, to see a naked, curvy woman touching herself.
She almost thought she looked hot but shame and embarrassment soon took over. She turned and flicked the light switch, throwing the room into deep gloom, and slid under waiting bed sheets, fingering herself until she found some release.
She lay in bed for a good while afterwards. She had come hard and it had felt good. But a deeper, unsatisfied yearning remained. It was still daylight outside and even with the curtains drawn, a dim yellowish light filled the room.
Eventually, she pulled back the covers and got dressed in the half light. She hesitated over what to wear, feeling suddenly self conscious about her jogging bottoms, but decided to put them on anyway.
She left the cottage and walked down to the beach. It was about six o'clock now and at this time of year she had maybe an hour of sunlight left.
The weather was still warm but thin streaks of cloud strafed the sky. A light wind blew in off the sea. The holiday season was over and this late in the day, the beach was deserted.
It felt good, just to walk along the beach alone as the light slowly failed. It was such a beautiful spot and she felt the bigness of nature all around her. She looked up at the slowly darkening sky. The stars would be bright tonight.
She walked until all the heat and light had leached out of the day and she was glad to make her way back to her warm and cosy cottage for the night.
The next day, the weather outside was hot. It still felt like summer. This must be one of the last warm days of the year.
She took a shower and then laid her clothes out on the bed, wondering what to wear. She kept thinking about the young man in the bookshop.
Eventually, feeling daring, she decided to put on a fairly skimpy blue dress with white polka dots. It covered her arse well but showed plenty of cleavage.
She was more comfortable that way round. She'd always wished she could be skinny but she liked having big tits. She didn't generally feel like showing them off but today she felt daring.
Besides it would be much easier to tell if she was being checked out if the man was looking at her front.
She walked through the village. She didn't go into the bookshop straightaway but couldn't help looking in through the window as she walked out past. The same young man was sat at the counter, still reading a book, alone.
The village was very small and soon gave out. There was a little pub at the end though, where she stopped and had her lunch.
The barman, a bluff red faced man in his fifties, kept looking down her top as he took her order. It made her uncomfortable but at least it was some attention.
Then another long walk along the beach until almost the entire day had gone. There were a few other people around. A labrador ran through the surf. But the tide was out and she had plenty of time alone with her thoughts.
The young man was still there when she looked through the bookshop window on her way back. She realised she'd been thinking about him all day.
It was ridiculous, really, a woman her age getting so flustered about some boy she'd barely spoken to, like a schoolgirl crush.
Back in the cottage, she combed her long black hair and fixed her make up, almost like for a date. She had a moment of doubt about the dress, she really was showing a lot of boob, but she decided to go with it.
She opened the door of the cottage, crossed the street and entered the bookshop.
The door jangled again as she opened it. The young man looked up with a bored look on his face, but it broadened into a genuine smile when he recognised her.
Nina was very gratified to notice that his gaze kept flicking down to her chest.
"Hello again," he said, in an open and friendly way.
"Hello," she said. Just standing in the doorway looking at him. Now that she was here, she didn't really know what to say.
"Can I help you with anything?" he asked.
"Oh, err, umm, no."
She suddenly felt foolish, dressed up as if she were at a party in the South of France and she was a much prettier and younger woman, not a middle aged divorcee in a local bookshop in Devon.
"Just browsing," she finished lamely.
"Well, take as long as you like," he said reassuringly. "And don't feel the need to buy anything. This place is just a retirement project for my Dad. He doesn't need the money."
"Right, Ok," she said and turned to look at the books. She was sure she could feel his eyes on her body again. That might just be her imagination. But he had definitely been checking out her tits just now, so maybe not.
It was very hard to concentrate on the actual books.
"I saw you looking at our rarer volumes yesterday."
The young man had left the counter and was standing next to her now. She could almost feel the heat of his body through her thin dress.
"Yes, they are very impressive."
The young man laughed, "You know, Dad hates actually selling any of those ones. There's a copy of the Decameron somewhere and I think he'd have a fit if anyone actually bought it, he loves it so much."
"The Decameron?"
