Page 101 of Devious Corruption
“You’re mine, now. All mine.”
I swallow.
I think I’ve flown too close to the sun.
It’s going to be one helluva burn.
It’s as hot as the devil’s dick in here.
With every chair occupied and more customers standing along the edge of the area Maxine put together for tonight’s event, the body heat is overwhelming.
Dante Woods, an older man with short white hair, has been reading for the past five minutes. Maxine has dedicated the first ten minutes of the program for his reading, and then a short question and answer portion before she’ll usher him behind the table and the signing can begin.
From the look of the crowd, he’ll be working for a while to get through the line. The stack of pre-ordered books was already a solid sign the event was going to be asuccess. Now, seeing all these people stuffed into this small store, it’s even more evident that Maxine has talent for this sort of business.
Other than the fact that the woman has her nose in a book or pressed against the reading app on her phone, whenever she gets the chance. She has a strong head for business.
It wasn’t an exaggeration when I told her she’d doubled the profits of this place in the last year she’d been working here. And not simply by getting the word out into the community that this place even existed. She’s reached out to reading groups, libraries, and on-line communities to put this little store on their radar.
Book Nook didn’t even have a social media presence until Max created accounts across all platforms.
Right now she stands near the podium, watching the audience for their reactions. If they start to look bored, she’ll cut him off and move quickly to the next portion of the event.
I take her in, watching from my corner of the shop where I’m not blocking anyone’s view of the author while I can keep my attention focused where I want it. On her.
She’s styled her short hair halfway up for the evening, braiding the two sides until they meet in the back and joining them into one short braid. She’s placed pins with jeweled butterflies on the ends in an organized pattern along each shorter braid. The dress she picked for the evening is black, as is much of her clothing, and reaches the tops of her knees.
When she twists to check on the audience sitting to the far side of the podium, the hem rides up enough to see the curve of her thigh. That curve, which lesser men would consider too thick, leads up higher to her juicy ass. Just thinking of it, of the little squeal she gives when I squeeze her ass, makes my cock lengthen in my pants.
The neckline of the dress is modest, barely dipping deep enough to show off how generous her breasts really are. Which works fine for me at this moment, because if I have to start gouging out men’s eyes for wandering where they shouldn’t, it will ruin her event.
And she’s put in too much work for anyone to ruin it.
Even me.
Still. As much as that dress accentuates her gorgeous body, I’d rather she not be wearing anything at all. What I’d rather be doing is tying her to my bedposts. Arms over her head and her legs locked into a spreader bar. Laying her out and open for me and me alone.
Sharing her with all these people is annoying. I’m a greedy bastard, and when it comes to her it’s no different.
Except it is.
Not only do I not want to share her with any of these people, but I’m also so damn proud of the work she’s done, and of how happy she looks when she’s smiling out at the crowd. I almost don’t mind not getting my way.
At least for the moment.
The moment I can get her away from this place, I’m ripping off her panties and stuffing my cock in her. I’ll make her ride me all theway home.
If she’s lucky, I’ll make her come by the time we’re parked in the garage. Then I’ll make her give me three more orgasms when we get upstairs.
Punishment for making me wait so long to get her pussy around me.
“Excuse me.” A woman shuffles in front of me, holding her purse against her chest as she moves past.
I’ve been so lost in my fantasy I missed the rest of the reading and the questions. Were there any? I check my watch and realize twenty minutes have passed since I last looked. The audience is lining up in order to claim their autographed book.
Serafina, the owner’s niece, helps get them organized and in line while Maxine works behind the table with the author’s team to get the books ready.
“That was exciting. I’ve never heard an author read from their own book before.” Elana grins as she approaches. Megan stands behind her.
