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Subject: {ASSM} RP: "The Curiosity Shop" (MF Cons) Sven the Elder
From: Sven <sven@brass-neck.demon.co.uk>
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Date: Sun, 12 Dec 1999 18:10:01 -0500
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===========================================
This story contains words of a sexual nature and should not
be read by juveniles. If this means you, go away and read
something else; you shouldn't be here anyway. This is a
work of fiction and in no way portrays real life - if you
can't hack that, go lie down in a dark room; the bad feelings
will go away.
===========================================
The Curiosity Shop
© Sven the Elder
It was an old shop in a new part of town. An anachronism, a dim
and musty place of knick-knacks and old things. I loved the
place, I liked the atmosphere, I loved browsing it's shelves and
old artifacts. I also liked teasing and flirting with the
owner's wife. Her husband was as old and fusty as the shop it's
self; his wife was, well unexpected. For a start she was from
the Continent, Dutch, if the accent was anything to go by. He
was in his sixties if not seventies, she was much younger,
perhaps late forties. No matter, she dressed old style - it
fitted better with the tourists the shop 'fleeced'.
Oh boy did they fleece the tourists! This was a tourist town -
the Castle, a part-time seat of the Monarchy was only just up the
road and everything about this small town was about parting the
Tourists - the "grockles" in local parlance, from their money.
Trouble is they were good at it, extracting the money that is,
very good. As a local, well from the next town anyway, I had to
bargain pretty hard to get the odds and ends that I wanted at a
sensible price. It helped to speak in a local accent to be sure,
but even then you needed to be quite persuasive.
I visited the shop for the second time in a matter of a few days,
I had spotted a rather nice rose-quartz Budda and I had come
back for it, that and another chance to tease Jo. We had been on
first name terms for some months, a fact that left her husband
less than pleased. He just called me 'Mr', a term, that in this
country, borders on close to being insulting in some eyes. Me I
couldn't have cared less. If he only knew I would have put up
with a lot more than that, minor insult, to chat up the vivacious
Jo.
That wasn't really her name, more just the opening few syllables,
but the rest defeated my tongue, so Jo it had become. She, like
everyone else just called me Sven. I called her vivacious, she
was but in an older, more comfortable way. Her family had grown
up, I think she had a son and a daughter, and had left home. I
believe I had seen the daughter in the shop once. There is a
joke about inheriting Father's looks and mother's brains - she
certainly had her father's looks. If she had her mother's brains
she was lucky. Jo was sharp - by that I mean quick. Quick
witted, quick in business - she was the boss. But she was
clever, the old man thought he was in charge, and she was content
to let it be that way. She was also 'comfortable'. She didn't
worry about her figure, but neither was she unattractive, just
comfortable. Nicely in proportion, not thin, in fact
unremarkable.
But enough of the gossip, my purpose had been not so much to buy
the Bhudda, which I had in mind to do, but rather to see if
amongst the other detritus there was a second one. Mind you if I
did find it, Jo would know the greater value of the pair and
she'd have a damn good go at fleecing me.
So I was enjoying myself, completely oblivious to time, the
weather (it had been damp and drizzly, with a little fog or mist
off the river when I had come in earlier) and the gathering dark.
I was at the back of the shop, well away from the front and to
be truthful, part of my mind was still taken up with the sight I
had been presented with about half an hour earlier. Jo had been
behind a display case when I had asked about an item that was
close to my edge. She had leaned over on tip-toe to get a better
look and I had been gifted with the most wonderful close up of a
chest that stretched to breakfast time. She was wearing a loose
blouse and, as I now knew, no bra. Nothing! Zilch! As she
leaned forward the most beautiful pair of breasts were there,
exposed to my gaze, nipples a little firm from the attention of
the blouse, but totally magnificent.
She had noticed that I simply stopped speaking and was stood with
my jaw dropped. I mean, flirting was one thing, but this, well,
hells teeth we were both married, my wife was two doors down,
talking to her boss, hers was - well, he wasn't here! Jo looked
at me and burst out laughing - "You men, you're all the same - a
flash of tits and your mind is a blank." I'm afraid all I could
do was splutter at the same time as going all colours at the red
end of the spectrum. She stayed, toying with my mind for several
seconds more and then moved back to a rather more decorous
position. I had totally lost the plot and gave up, I have to say
rather embarrassed and moved off to the back of the shop. Jo was
still giggling some time later.
Humming to myself, I turned round and ended up, off-balance, in
Jo's arms. She had come up behind me and I had failed to hear
her while I was far away and still mesmerised by those gorgeous
charms. Now I was pressed against them. Panicking I moved
backwards, caught my heel on something low down and fell flat on
my back clutching at Jo as I did so. Fortunately I failed to
make contact with her and just ended up in an untidy heap. Any
thoughts of flirting, appearing, suave, debonair or whatever lost
in the stars I could see as I hit my head a hell of a whack on
some unseen object behind me. Great, really great - here I was
hoping to have a little fun and I ended up looking a complete
prat - just my luck.
As my head cleared, I became aware of Jo, very concerned,
kneeling beside me in the semi-darkness that now pervaded the
back end of the shop. "Sven - are you all right?" She said
softly.
"Of course I'm all right Jo" - I replied, thinking you dickhead
what a cack-handed way to appear, just when you were trying to
impress.
I sat up and ended up nose-to-chest with the cause of my
downfall. Jo put her arms gently round my head and quietly
pulled my head to her breast. "Easy," she said, "you've just
banged your head quite hard - don't move for a moment."
Jo I thought, if this place caught fire I would happily end my
days with my nose in your cleavage. Out loud, I just sighed a
little, my nose about two and a half inches from the nipples that
were close to heaven. She continued to hold me to her, even as I
moved my head slightly to one side. I felt her nipple stiffen
and grow as my cheek rubbed against it. Turning slightly I put
my lips against it, through the material of her blouse, and
suckled gently. She moaned lightly, and pulled my face tighter
to her breast. I put my hand up and cupped it slightly as she
shivered gently at my touch. She moved a little as I moved my
other hand down across her stomach, softly rubbing a circle as I
went. Rising on her knees a little she pushed forward against my
hand as, through her skirt, I now rubbed her very centre.
She gave another little sigh and moved one hand from my head down
across my front, brushing the crotch of my jeans, now bearing
witness to the effect the closeness to her breasts was having to
me. "Sven", she said, with a little note of outrage in her
voice, that was quickly lost in a groan as I rubbed her breast a
little more firmly. She let go my head and moving back a little
from me, opened the front of her top and then moved my head back
towards her. I licked and teased her nipples, first one then the
other and marvelled as they grew hard and firm. She gasped in
pleasure as I nibbled them gently, so gently.
I moved now to a kneeling position and kissed her full on the
mouth, nibbling her bottom lip as we kissed passionately lost in
the moment. I felt her hands back on my jeans, undoing my belt
and then the snap and zipper, allowing her hands access to the
rigid evidence of my, by now, intense arousal. Now it was my
turn to gasp a little as she ran her finger nails down the shaft
and across my thigh.
Taking her lead I ran my hand under her skirt and up the front of
her thigh. I was totally taken aback to run into, not panties,
but a very damp mass of pubic hair covering the open mound at the
top of her legs. My fingers slipped inside easily and she moaned
more loudly and squirmed as I found her sensitive spots. I
slipped my fingers back out and brought them to my lips and sucked
that beautiful nectar from them.
She pushed me gently back onto to the floor, leaned forward and
took me in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head.
Realising the sensation was almost more than I could bear she
gathered her skirt and, holding it out of the way, hunkered
forward either side of my legs. She gently lowered herself into
place and I nearly lost everything as her hot lips swallowed me
in. She leaned forward and dangled a breast to my lips and I
nipped it gently. She contracted on my penis as I did so and I
thrust up into her. She met me eagerly and we consummated our
lust quickly without finesse both jerking to orgasm, lost in each
others passion. She fell forward still holding my shoulders and
we breathed deeply, trying to regain control of our respective
heartbeats.
First to recover I said "Jo, what if.......".
She stopped me with a finger to my lips and said "I shut the shop
before I came back, That was what I was coming to tell you - That
I was closing up."
I tried to get up and help her off, but she giggled that lovely
giggle again and contracted her muscles on me. As she felt me
move inside she said, "Oh good - I can never get Frank to manage
more than once, - You'll have to come again."
And do you know what my friends - I did, and have done once or
twice more since that rainy afternoon.
The End
(c) Sven the Elder December 97
--
If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments
are their only payment. Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is
copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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