The Bookshop Pt. 01

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This is the first part of a longer series. I hope you don’t mind the slower pace, it should all add to the story in the long run!


Running a small bookshop on the edge of town was never my chosen career path. Leaving school nine months ago, I didn’t have much planned, but aimed to find something that drew on my passion for electronics and gadgets and stuff. Life, or more accurately a death in the family, intervened within weeks of graduation to change everything. Uncle Mike, my mum’s brother, was probably the most entrepreneurial member of our clan with at least three businesses on the go, and his life had seemed pretty sweet until he died suddenly with a heart attack, leaving his wife Sue to cope alone.

If I am totally honest, it was not just a sense of family duty that made me offer my services to help run Aunt Sue’s Bookshop. I have had a crush on her since as long as I could remember, and I would probably have done pretty much anything she asked, anytime, anyplace. I really enjoyed her company, and I had found her beautiful since the day I had first taken notice of a woman’s body.

It was about ten days after the funeral and I found myself once more visiting Aunt Sue in the small community Bookshop that was her pride and joy. She had run ‘Black & White books’ now for a few years. It was a childhood dream to run this shop- even the name was chosen before she was 12. Mike was always fully supportive, and let her run it however she wanted, although he often teased her at family events by claiming he loved the bookshop as it kept her distracted and didn’t try telling him how to run his fashion business! Of course, that felt quite ironic now, as she had both to contend with.

We had been meeting up in the bookshop to chat about life for a few years and this day was no different- except it seemed more important that I spent time there and gave emotional support. As usual, I was leaning on the counter with a coffee in hand and Sue sat on the tall chair behind. Suddenly, in the middle of saying something quite inconsequential about book ordering, she started to crumple and sob.

‘what will I do Jack?’ she sobbed, ‘how am I ever going to cope? Mike loved his fashion business as much as I love this place, but the factory and showroom has most of our money tied up in it. I cannot be in three places at once, and I’m so tired…’

Without a moment’s thought, I offered to help run the Bookshop so she could spend time across town running the factory. She stared at me through her tears for a while and, without saying a word, got up slowly, came around the counter and gave me the tightest hug I had ever had.

‘Oh Jack you are such a good man’ she half whispered, with her face tucked into my neck. ‘What would I do without you eh?’ She was still sniffing a bit, but there was no more sobbing, and that felt good.

In fact it felt wonderful to hold her so tightly, and to be honest I was enjoying myself far too much. With a dawning horror came the realisation that my dick was responding totally inappropriately to this hug, and was already stiff, upright and pushing against her body. I guess she must have noticed it pretty much at the same time as me as she stepped back suddenly with a blank and slightly shocked look on her face. I thought I was going to die of embarrassment. A perfect moment of closeness, ruined. I was therefore left speechless when her stare turned into a cheeky grin, and with a small twinkle in her eyes said ‘you better put that away before you poke someone with it!’, reached out, and gave my dick a solid squeeze. She then turned tail without a word and walked back round the counter and through the door towards her flat above the shop. I was rooted to the spot, unable to think, but vaguely aware that she was still smiling to herself as she headed off through the little door.

After a few moments, and some rapid readjustment down below, I shut up shop (it was already dark, and we don’t get many customers after 4pm), and I nervously walked upstairs. Apart from a slight smirk when I first popped my head round the door, she said nothing about that moment, and rather she went on to talk in much more detail about what I’d so easily offered – and what it would mean, with much more energy and enthusiasm that I had seen from her for many days.

And so the plan was hatched. I agreed to ride over every day to start learning the ropes from the very next morning. As I said, I would have probably agreed to anything she asked.

About two weeks passed without incident after that day, each following an easy rhythm; cycling the ten minutes over from my folks house then spending all day learning what I needed to know, occasionally staying over for a quick supper in the flat. There was nothing remotely special about these days, except that I enjoyed çankaya escort myself immensely. I was constantly working alongside and physically close to Aunt Sue, and we developed an easy comfort in each other’s presence. To my slight shame, I found myself deeply breathing in the air around her. With no real encouragement on her part, I was developing an all embracing obsession, and my night-time thoughts were full of improbable encounters that occasionally made the next day a little awkward for me, until reality kicked in and we settled back into our easy pattern.

I soon got to grips with tills, ordering and so on, and began to enjoy the thought of doing this job properly. Maybe a bookseller’s life was for me after all… ‘I think you are probably safe to fly solo next week’ Sue declared one Friday evening, and I genuinely looked forward to giving it a go- dealing with all a business demands.

That night, a slightly tearful and seemingly inebriated Aunt Sue called me on the mobile.

‘Jack… I hate to ask, but can you stay longer tomorrow? I’m trying to be brave and start to sort out some of Mike’s stuff in the flat… I want to move some of my stuff to the big house but, well… it’s not easy alone… I keep… I keep…’

…she went silent for a while.

‘See you in ten’ I said, and jumped on the bike before she could argue.

The ‘big house’ she referred to was called ‘Fairmile’ and was a lovely 4 bedded place they had had built near to Mike’s factory, about 15 mins drive away across town. It still wasn’t quite finished- but Mike had already set up a home office and they had already been talking about when they might move over full time and rent out the flat.

Arriving at the flat, I let myself in and made my way upstairs. I called out as I walked into the lounge but no response, and there was nothing from the kitchen or spare room either, so I presumed she must be in the bedroom ‘sorting out stuff’ as she put it, or perhaps she had already fallen asleep with too much wine. I tapped on the bedroom door and heard a quiet response so went in. As it turns out, she had not fallen asleep but was sat cross legged on the bed, lost in her own thoughts and staring at a pile of papers around her…

…I didn’t really take in the papers or wonder what she was thinking, however. I was completely transfixed by what she was wearing. She had on a sheer silk teddy that, whilst fractionally decent sat as she was, was going to be positively revealing if she stood, presuming there was anything below. My mind began to reel.

‘Jack! You didn’t need to come over straight away … you’ve been here all day lovely boy… you’re too good…’ Despite these words, this she immediately shoved half the papers across the bed and patted the space created next to her, so I knew I had made the right decision to come over directly, she wanted me here. I hopped up onto the bed and she leant her head onto my chest and wrapped her arms around my midrif. She didn’t say anything, just sat there in a tight embrace. I rested one arm over her shoulder. To my shame I also found myself pretty instantly staring downwards, transfixed, as the twisted hug had shifted her top and gave me an uninterrupted view straight down to a naked breast. I couldn’t breathe. A solid nipple stood proud in the shadows and I stared as if I could somehow burn every tiny detail of this sight into my memory. It was … perfect, and I sat in silence- still trying not to breathe or break the moment.

Suddenly she seemed to wake up and sat up straight. ‘Look at me, moping about here when you’ve come over to help.’ As she sat up, she hitched her teddy into a less revealing position, a movement I saw in the reflection of the large wall mirror. With a sinking feeling I realized that she might well have sat up because she spotted me staring so obviously down her top, but if she had, she gave no hint, beyond perhaps trying adopting a more business-like tone. This didn’t really work and was more than a little amusing when combined with her slightly drunken slur:

So, Jhack’ she began again. ‘I am jhust about able to work through some of these papers, but I can’t face the whardrobes or the drahws. (I will spare you the phonetics, but you get the idea) ‘I want to get this room tidy. Its time I really watched over the factory and showroom, so I’m gonna live over at Fairmont. I’ve worked it all out, I go for a bit, and you can stay here rent free without your parents cramping your style and no need to bike all over the place. I don’t see why you shouldn’t have a pad like this as a perk of the job… ‘

‘but…’ she was silent again for a while… ‘I’m finding sorting all the clothes hard. There are lots of bin bags and some clothes recycling bags here ready to fill, but I just can’t bring myself escort çankaya to do any of it. So …’ she took a deep breath. ‘Unless you find a stash of hidden money, just get rid of everything… everything… empty the wardrobe and the chest of drawers’ at this point she slowly stood up ‘and I’m off to have another glass of something and finish off sorting the spare room…’

She raised the empty glass that had been left sat on the bedside table. ‘Cheers, and thanks for coming Jake, it really, really helps’

I managed to croak out a quiet ‘Cheers…’ in return but was basically staring, without reserve, at the sight she presented. Have not in the least bit recovered from seeing her naked breast, she now stood with one arm raised holding an empty glass in hand, and with her teddy stretched across her breasts and hitched well up above her navel. Nipples stood proud behind the silk, and beneath, her delicate pants were fully exposed in all their glory. Lace trim, with thin edges sat high on her hips. In the middle they dropped slightly to a small bow, beneath which one could just make out the darker shadow of her bush. She was stood still for just a small fraction of time, and then turned and wandered out (with a lovely, longer view of her backside to follow). My cock was raging impotently in my pants, and I felt a twitch as if I was about to cum without warning at the sight. I was in heaven.

‘I saw you staring!’ she called back in a friendly tone, ‘ now get on with your work!’

My ecstasy faded slightly. Did she mean just then, on when I stared down her top earlier?? ‘Dammit’ I thought, I’ve got to get a grip or she will push me away as a complete letch. ‘All over it Auntie’ I called back, but whether she heard me or not I don’t know.

‘Shit, right, focus.’ I said to myself, and turned to the walk in wardrobe to start my work. The first door did me no favours, as it was hers and filled with a whole range of outfits and the unmistakable scent of her. Mike’s factory (or I should say ‘Sue’s now) was high-end fashion working with boutique outlets and private clients, one of the few not sending production to the Far East. Sue was never short of the latest designs. ‘It’ll be hard to stay out of this cupboard if I sleep in here,’ I thought to myself, but firmly slid the door shut and opened the other side.

This was Uncle Mike alright. For a man working in fashion, he was never one to experiment with his own clothes. A long row of smart cords, a range of jackets and two dozen shirts, all basically lumberjack style. I bundled them into a bag, and then scooped up a dozen pair of shoes and a pile of unopened brand new shirts from the wardrobe floor. These probable needed to be sent somewhere else. One job done, I turned to the drawers. I took care not to even open Sue’s underwear draws by ‘accident; that would be way too much for me to cope with tonight (but the lingering thought of future nights spent in this room still made my friend twitch).

I wasn’t so keen on sorting out Mike’s boxers and socks to be honest, but could see how hard this would be for Sue. No wonder she was so topped up with wine. I decided to pull the draws out and simply tip them into open bags on the bed. There was nothing unusual in the first draw, except a few old Valentine’s cards, and I took Sue at her word and threw everything out. In the bottom draw there were T-shirts, and these went into the charity bag, but beneath them were a pile of old notebooks. I was not sure quite what to do with these, but before I called out to Sue to ask for advice, I noticed that one had a date on the front, and it intrigued me. I opened it to check and, yep, it was a journal. The day I was open on was headed “Vegas”, which I think was a frequent destination, and the few words I read quickly told me that Mike wrote a lot more down about his life than I ever dared. I shut it as if burned, but the knowledge that these books might contain so much about Sue, including, as I now knew, long and clear descriptions of sex, was too much for me to throw away or indeed, to my shame, to pass to Sue straight away. I slipped them into a bag then tucked them under the bottom draw for ‘safe keeping’.

As I did this, I noticed something was already there- a small, open envelope, which upon inspection contained an ankle bracelet and a data stick. This might be something Sue needed to see, but then again, it might also be something she might never want or need to know about- like stuff from a former girlfriend, so these I popped in my rucksack.

I was just about done tidying, and Sue came wandering back in, a little unsteady but not looking too sad. I told her what was where, and that I would shift the bags on Monday. She wasn’t really taking much in.

‘There are some brand new shirts here, still çankaya escort bayan wrapped, which I guess should go to a proper charity shop rather than the charity clothes bank ‘ I said.

‘That’s a good idea Jack… she paused.. ‘but if they’re something you like the look of, why don’t you keep them?’

‘That’s cool’, I said, as I wasn’t averse to the odd lumberjack shirt myself…

‘Almost all of Mike’s stuff is pretty immaculate actually, he was clearly a tidy man…’

‘Oh he was, he was’, she said, still sounding a bit vague ‘always tidy and organised and recorded everything… everything (my mind wandered to the journals) That’s half the problem at the factory really, he’s left me so much information, he always writes everything in way too much detail (my dick twitched). But … the factory manager is not really helping as much as I thought she would… Jack, just keep any clothes you like if they fit… unless it feels weird to you…’

‘No, no, not too weird … I’m always up for some half decent hand-me-downs!’, I said glibly.

Turning to Sue I saw she was lost again, and I moved to give her a hug, ignoring her state of dress as best I could.

‘I ‘spose that’s all I am really now’ she mumbled, ‘a half decent old hand-me-down’ …and began to sob…

I instinctively held her more tightly and stroked her hair gently. ‘Don’t be daft… I said, ‘your not a half decent old hand me down, your a completely perfect and beautiful old hand me down’…trying to break her sadness with a bit of cheek.

‘You say all the right things’ she said, turning her watery eyes up to me and she stood taller, still held in my arms. Without warning she put her hands on either side of my head pulled my face down to hers and gave me a long, hard, kiss on the lips. I was not too rigid to respond, but I didn’t dare do anything but hold still and kiss back, holding her body tight. Her lips were hot and she tasted of wine and cherries and … dreams. She then sat back down on the bed.

‘Oh Jack, I’m so tired… sometimes I think none of this is real…’

‘So get into bed and I’ll see you in the morning’, I said, with mock stern voice.

‘Good idea’ she mumbled and was already tumbling over, and she pulled herself weakly up towards the pillow.

‘I think you need a bit of help there… let’s get you under the covers’. I only got a grunt of agreement, but I rolled the covers back a little on my side and gently rolled her towards me and then back over so she could slip under the covers properly. I had done this for my big brother on any number of occasions after he had been on a heavy night out, but this casual contact with Aunt Sue was something totally different. Strangely, though I was physically touching and moving her with next to nothing on, I felt less aroused but more intimate…

‘Nighty night’ I gently said, turning to go.

‘I always sleep … with my pants off…’ she mumbled back.

I stood, once more struck dumb, but it didn’t take me very long to decide to take this as an instruction and boy would I follow it!

‘OK, OK, so I have to do everything…’ I softly joked and pushed back the covers. My thoughts of gentle intimacy were gone and I was back to being an oversexed young man about to remove the underwear of a lady I had slept with a hundred times in my dreams.

‘U-hu’ was the only response I got to my joke, and a little wiggle of the hips. Before I could think too long about what I was doing, I reached out and hooked my fingers under the top elastic and started to pull gently down. She wiggled a little more, and I used my other hand to reach as close under her bottom as I could and catch the other side. Slowly, with as much gratuitous touching of flesh as I dared, I pulled her pants down, my face unnecessarily close to her body. My hands could feel the warmth of her soft skin, fingers brushed her backside and down to her thighs. At this slow pace she needed to wiggle several times to release the fabric as it caught between her legs, but eventually they pulled down and I could move them beyond her feet. I was pretty dizzy at this point, having been within inches of her pussy as the pants had slipped off, seeing her lips in the shadows and with a hot musky smell overwhelming my mind.

‘Night night.’ she said dreamily, but I was too far gone to respond, and I think she was probably too far gone to really hear me whatever I might say. What do you say after that, after being asked to undress your aunt? I sat on the edge of the bed- probably for a good few minutes, simply staring at her naked backside. Finally, in auto pilot, I threw her pants into a washing basket and reluctantly made sure she was covered and tucked in.

I still had to cycle home, but I was not going to be able to ride straight, so went into the bathroom to sort myself out. My cock was rock stiff, and pre-cum had already pretty much trashed my boxers, so I quickly released all my tension over the sink. A quick tidy up and I was in a better place, I packed up my backpack and cycled home.

How would things be tomorrow, I wondered…

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