The Reading Room Solo

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Looking about the Reading Room, Miss Vicki smiled and nodded in approval. Classics from various eras sat on the shelves that lined the walls. Even the single window that faced toward the front of the old house had books surrounding it. Various authors like Dickens, Poe, Shakespeare, Chaucer, and many others stood waiting their turn to be the favorite for the Reading Room Club that met weekly.

“This is good!” Miss Vicki said with a satisfied tone. “Tonight, I’ll read to myself, then tell the others about it on Saturday when they arrive.”

Walking to the opposite wall from the window view, she let her eyes stroll down the third shelf from the top. One book awaited her perusal, one that she had always found rather erotic although she supposed Du Maurier had never intended such a result. It was indeed a potion of fantasy that allowed the drinker to go back in time to another world of love, enchantment, and of course, ultimate tragedy.

“Ah! There you are!” she said with an air of discovery. “The House on the Strand!”

Pulling it from the shelf, she glanced at its cover, and then held it to her breast as she walked to a corner where an empty lounge chair awaited. She sat, lifted her feet to rest on the extension, and positioned herself to read what she considered to be a fine work. What would happen later would be a fantasy, one she’d always longed for and received each time she opened and read the story. To go back in time to a world where the present faded into that which had not yet occurred, was rather erotic in and of itself.

It was doubtful that anyone else would ever venture such a fantasy as hers, but then again, she didn’t care. This was her evening, a unique experience, a solo performance as the deceased authors around her watched. Opening to the first chapter on her journey back in time as one of Du Maurier’s characters, she was led away to another world. She would stay there, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, until her dreams and desires faded into the present reality of the all knowing Reading Room.

Miss Vicki read many pages before she noticed that nightfall was invading the room. Turning the switch on the lamp to her right, she settled back into the place where the character drank his first measure of potion. As he traveled back to previous years, she did also. Not necessarily to his destination, but to a deeper more familiar place she’d gone thousands of times before. There, she experienced a kind of peace, a calm of reassurance that in a matter of time, her dreams would end in fulfillment.

Closing her eyes and then opening them, she found herself walking along the path of an old English garden view. To her left, blooms of colorful flowers casino oyna opened broadly to discover the sunlight that so warmed and impassioned them. To her right, she noticed the leafy Caladiums that lined the wall of the old cottage which provided the needed shade for their flourishing. Cheerful colors on the left that contrasted with the serious faces of elephant ears on the right somehow put her at ease. If life consisted of a unique mixture of both, she certainly had reached her destination while strolling along the dividing walkway.

Allowing her eyes to gaze upon the natural beauty of such floral paintings calmed, and yet brought a subtle sense of passionate longing in Vicki’s soul. Walking with carefree steps, she found herself stopping to admire a bench fitly posed in the garden next to the cottage. It was hers, yet she really didn’t know its owner. He or she would not mind her resting there, for she’d made the journey many times in the past.

“I belong here,” she softly said then seated herself on the bench.

Since it stood in the middle of the beauty of flowers and foliage, she pondered her role among its inhabitants. She was also beautiful like a flower, yet she possessed a serious heart, too. After moments of thought, she dismissed the futile effort, knowing that what she had to offer the garden had yet to bloom. Her eye gates filled with wonder as she let them stroll down her own path of beauty.

Naked to the world from which she came, yet natural to the garden’s apparel, she sat admiring her female charms. Her firm thighs, her soft skin, and her flat belly, which provided the pedestal for two very full breasts. Indeed, they were treasures she much admired. She alone understood their prowess, their ability to enchant men to insanity, yet to her, they represented a special part of her womanhood that made her proud.

Like roses yet to open in bloom, her pink buds stood in contrast to her soft, white pillows. Touching them lightly, she soon felt the gentle stimulation from deep within her own garden. There, among her dark, strewn pallet lie a secret destination of passionate desire that many longed for, but few would ever know. Desire flooded slowly as the secret chamber spread its warmth throughout her body. Slowly, she opened her thighs to feel the cool breeze caress her garden’s secrets and when she did, she felt a wave of passion like the sunlight that had warmed the flowers.

“Make my flower bloom!” she whispered to the sun-drenched breeze.

Then she lifted her slightly trembling leg over her pedestal and lay on her bare back. Sunlight warmed her womanhood while the Caladiums watched in a jealous stare. But Vicki knew their hearts and how they would extinguish her desires if offered even canlı casino a chance. Lightly, she let her fingers walk from her face, down her neck, to her chest. Tingling sensations enchanted her, leading her ever onward toward her own fulfillment.

Lingering between her garden melons, fingertips danced in cheerful play. With the sunlight’s warmth, they offered stimulating experiences to call her from her cares, lead her away to seek her desires, and ultimately lift her to satisfaction only she alone could experience. While fingers played and danced about, she surrendered herself to their movements. Over her breasts and pink rosebud charms, they cheerfully strolled until, sadly, some moved downward to explore the regions beyond. Her belly jumped in playful response, her button captivated fully by their presence brought a mingling of passion, warmth, and desire.

When fingers finally reached the wonder of her garden’s floor, she slid them gently inside. The thick lawn of fur made joyous way for their entrance. Suddenly, she experienced the feeling of dew, her womanly flow which made her flower bloom. Resting there, she opened her eyes to view the blue sky above her. This was her time to fall prey to her own desires, those passionate longings that would indeed make her one with the cottage’s garden.

Then closing her eyes gently, she sighed. Stimulating her hard buds, she opened her mouth to release the subtle sounds of love, but as she did, her fingers slid down her dewy mat to part on either side of her secret friend. There, she rested them for only a moment. Then, rubbing them softly along the outer portions of her clitoral swelling, she felt the most incredible enchantment ever known in the cottage garden.

So intense was the discovery that her labial petals began to open submissively like the sunlight had personally warmed them to obedience. This made her push onward to thrill in the wetness of her flower. Droplets of dew followed their labial paths and when her fingers interrupted their flow, she soon moaned as the new path of wetness now coated her gently rubbing digits.

There, they lingered and enjoyed the beauty of her flower’s bloom. Seconds later, the aroma of female perfume mingled with the scent of the cottage garden. And she knew the familiar essence, a scent so unique that she alone possessed it. Inhaling it, she once again found herself surrendering to the garden’s enchantment. She wanted it to last forever, but she knew her secret destination called her to linger no more.

Gently sliding her fingers back to rest along side her most intimate dwelling, Vicki rubbed softly to enjoy the pleasure. Over and over waves of tantalizing pleasure crawled up and down her. What begun as light pinches soon kaçak casino turned into purposeful prodding that overwhelmed her breasts. The rubbing her clitoral stamen mixed with fondling her melons brought her quickly to the point where she knew she could not disobey. Babbling words of delight issued forth from her lips like leaves jostled by a forest breeze.

Then, she gently slid her middle finger inside her most secret chamber while continuing to touch her swollen clitoris with her thumb. Immediately, a wave of immense proportions overwhelmed her. Fully surrendered to her pleasures, she screamed out her passionate song, verse by verse till the final measure of fulfillment denuded in panting, spent, release.

And there Vicki lingered. Once again, she met her fulfillment secretly, alone, and without any measure of regret. When she finally sat upright on the garden bench, she wondered if the owner of the cottage had caught her solo performance or maybe heard its finale. Indeed, she wouldn’t have minded if he or she had, for she was one with the garden like the Caladiums and flowers. Their owner always watched them for enjoyment and fulfillment.

But Vicki stood for an encore. Touching her breasts in one final gesture, she once again slid her middle finger inside her most intimate of chambers. Her flower of warmth and dew pleased, like it was intended, leaving her satisfied that it was time to leave. Pulling the dew coated digit from her opening, she lifted it to drag its wet flow across one of her pink rosebud nipples.

Then she performed what she deemed to be the ultimate goodbye to the cottage garden. She lifted her melon breast and licked her womanly dew off its coated bud. It was sweet, unique, and hers to enjoy. Then letting it rest on its own pedestal, she walked leisurely away down the path to leave the old cottage, its garden, and its place in time.

Glancing back once more, her eyes filled with the awesome stare of the leafy ears, those Caladiums in the shade that brought serious thoughts and feelings. They were, in every respect, a needed part of love, of pleasure, and of fulfillment. They too would be her parting from the cottage garden.

Miss Vicki suddenly jumped up in the lounge from the sound of something hitting the floor. With a startled yelp, she shook her head, glanced to either side, then relaxed as she realized that her book had fallen to the floor. Picking it up, she noticed that the page was bent open to the fourth chapter. For a moment, she felt a little confused but soon lay back in the realization that she had only fallen asleep.

“Did I travel back in time again?” Miss Vicki pondered as she lay the book aside.

She felt totally relaxed, happy, and peaceful. For a moment, she slowly looked about her, wondering if the authors she so admired had watched her close her eyes. Then she realized that she was wet between her legs.

“Ah, Du Maurier! You did it again!”

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