Carol
“Let’s check out this bookstore, Donna,” she declares. She is an elegant woman in her mid-thirties, the same age as me, although I’m far from elegant. About as far as one can be. She carries herself with the presence of someone who expects every eye in the room on her. And she may be the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.
“Don’t you get enough of books at work, Carol?” the other woman asks, presumably rhetorically, since Carol is already looking at my books.
Donna is a fundamentally attractive woman trying much too hard to be beautiful. To me, it just makes her look tawdry. I’d guess she’s in her late twenties, but she wears so much make up, it’s hard to be sure. She’s carrying a bag from one of the expensive clothing boutiques up the street.
All my attention is on Carol. I usually watch my customers; it is my bookstore and I like to see what they notice and don’t notice. But I’m not watching today for market research, I’m ogling this amazing creature who’s in my store, only a dozen feet from me or so. Ogling her for my own prurient interests. I’m hoping I will dream about her. Tonight and many nights beyond.
She is way out of my league. Or would be if I even had a league. I’ve not had a sexual partner in years. I have no idea who she is, but I feel honored just to have her in my store.
She turns to me and smiles. I feel like I will melt in the glow of that smile. Except my nipples, which are now protruding almost painfully. And my pussy that is suddenly sopping wet. I put on a feeble smile and wave to her as best I can.
Donna spoils the moment, saying, “Can we go yet, Carol? I want to get home where we can have some fun.”
Carol winks at me and then turns back to Donna. “Yes, we can go. And I certainly hope to have fun with you.”
The store’s closing time is still two hours away. I have several more customers, but none distract me from obsessing about Carol. At five on the dot, I flip the sign to closed and lock the front door. I go back to grab my things, but decide that can wait. I need something now. I sit on the stool in the small backroom and give myself relief from my lustful thoughts about Carol. Or more exactly, using my lustful thoughts of Carol to help me find relief. It’s the first time I’ve masturbated at work in the eight years I’ve owned the store. It does nothing to quench the fire I feel for her.
A few days later, Carol comes back, alone this time. I’m helping another customer when she enters, so I cannot ogle her to my heart’s content. She wanders a bit. When the other customer leaves, she comes up to the desk.
“Is this your bookstore?”
I nod yes. I don’t think I can speak.
“I love it. Exactly what a bookstore should be. Are you Mel then? Melanie I guess really.”
I find my voice and say, “That’s right. I liked the androgynous name when I opened this eight years ago. Customers can make of that what they want. And you’re Carol, right? I think that’s what your friend called you.”
“Friend? Oh, Donna. She’s more of an indulgence of mine than a friend. The poor thing has never had an original thought in her life. But she can be fun, if you know what I mean. Somedays, I just need some mindless sex, so I take her out shopping and then she will entertain me for a few hours.”
I can guess what she means, but certainly not from any first hand experience. The Donna’s of the world pay no attention to me. Even if I could afford to take them shopping at fancy boutiques.
“Donna said you get enough books at work. May I ask what you do? You don’t strike me as a librarian and you certainly aren’t a clerk at a bookstore.”
“I’m an editor with a major publisher, dear. For some very high profile authors. I won’t name drop, but you have several of my books on prominent display. I’m going to browse a little more. I mostly just wanted to drop by when I wasn’t being dragged away.”
She does wander for a while. I ogle her every move the entire time. I’m sure she knows I’m watching her, but she seems to not care. After about ten minutes, she turns to me, smiles and waves goodbye. I wave back to her, barely able to breathe.
Not only is she gorgeous, she’s into books. And a lesbian. And she was nice to me. She likes my store. I feel like a little bit of her glamour has rubbed off onto my store. Onto me.
I don’t see Carol for an entire week, much to my disappointment. And when she does come in, she’s with a man. A man of a substantial upbringing. A good match for her. And they seem very familiar with each other. This is someone she has known well for years. I note that neither of them are wearing wedding rings. She convinces him to buy a current bestseller.
“Trust me Eric, you’ll love it. I know exactly what you want all the time. And this is what you need now.”
He seems convinced to buy the book, but whether he’s convinced that he will like it or that she won’t leave him alone otherwise, I can’t tell. He brings it up and hands me a credit card. I glance at the name.
Eric Singer
She makes eye contact with me in an encouraging way, but he barely even notices I exist. Just a void that accepts his credit card and gives it and the book back to him.
“Would you like a bag for this, sir?”
“No, I will carry it. That way Carol will see I actually did buy her danged book.”
He is looking at her the entire time he is speaking to me.
She’s back again the next Friday. This time alone. She glances at what’s getting top billing, then goes back to the literature section. I think she’s looking for something and does not seem to find it. She walks back to me, empty handed.
“Do you have a Lesbian Literature section? I didn’t notice one the other day when I was here.”
“It’s small, unfortunately, but it’s there. Let me show you where.”
She follows me over to one end of the general literature.
“These two shelves here are my entire Lesbian Literature section, I’m afraid. Sorry that I don’t have more.”
“Oh, I already see what I’m looking for. And I really have meant to read this one, too.”
She carries the two books as we walk back to the cash register together. I start more of a conversation.
“I’m sorry if I’m being too bold, but I got the impression from what you said the other day that you’re interested in women. Then you came in last time with the gentleman. And now you want these books. Are you bisexual?”
Carol laughs. “That gentleman was my brother. We’re very close. He’s probably my best friend. But before you wonder if there’s something odd going on there, neither of us is interested in the other’s gender. You are an observant little vixen aren’t you, with all the ogling you do of me.”
I turn bright red.
“It’s okay Mel — or do you prefer Melanie? — I enjoy the attention. Especially from you.”
She hands me the two books, Orlando and Carol. Both classics in the field in my mind. But I’m still processing her last comment. Why me? Surely I’m a nobody in her life.
“My copy of Orlando reached an unfortunate demise. I came in here looking to replace it. And I’ve always wanted to read my namesake book. Why not now?”
As I take her credit card, she brushes her hand against mine. I look at her eyes. That was no accident. She’s hitting on me. No one has ever hit on me. Ever in my life. And now Carol, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, is.
“Would you like a bag for these?”
I’m too flabbergasted to say anything clever. More engaging. I can’t even manage to add her name.
“It’s a little easier, especially with two books, so yes, please.”
“Oh, I meant to ask you. Was that your book you pushed your brother to buy last week?”
“Nothing slides by you, does it? Yes it was. That’s my most recent. I’ve done every one of her books.”
“I loved the writing, so I guess you must do a good job.”
“The best, Melanie. I’m the best. See you again, soon.”
I’m confused. How can Carol be interested in me. Little old bookworm me. She’s the most elegant and glamorous person I’ve ever talked to. And the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. How can she be interested in me?
But she was. This was not me fantasizing about her. This was real. Either that or everything is a hallucination and I’m in the hospital on some medication. As hard as it seems to believe, Carol being interested in me seems the most likely scenario. If this is a hallucination, don’t wake me up, please.
