When I Read Those Books

My Mother Made Me Curious

My mother read a lot of books when I was growing up. I remember times we would go to thrift stores to rummage through the bookshelves for those hidden gems. Of course, I also read a lot. Sometimes, though, my Mother would hide certain books from me. It drove my curiosity absolutely crazy. Naturally, I just had to know why. As I got older, of course, I figured out what kind of books they were. When I finally started reading those books, I was instantly addicted. The very first book was called “He Gave Me Riding Lessons,” and it was incredibly erotic. When I read those books, or even short stories, I turn into a naughty and slutty housewife.

Reading is a hobby that can provide so much fulfillment in so many ways. Erotica can take you to the deepest, most intimate parts of yourself that might not have ever known existed if not for that one book. When I read those books, it’s different every time. The way the words paint the complete scene and the feelings they invoke throughout your body as you place yourself there. My favorite thing to do is grab an intense book, draw a bath, dim the lights, and travel. The bubbles make my skin as soft as butter. My fingers glide through my hair as I throw it on top of my head and submerge. I open the book and begin my journey.

When I Read Those Books

As I read about the firefighter running his fingers along her arm, caressing her neck with his breath, my own fingers do the same on my silky skin. Turning pages with one hand and enjoying every word with the other, I become completely immersed. When I read those books, I know each character so well that I can become each one. I can feel his lips on my inner thighs. My fingers were every part of his body. Breath increasing and libido building, the words become life. Eventually, the scene is set, my eyes close, and I make it my own. I can feel his lips slowly glide down my chin. When he reaches my neck, he lingers and licks. While he’s breathing me in, his decline down my body is so gradual it almost aches. He teases me slowly. The character I was reading about would do exactly that.

He would build the explosion with such passionate, tender care, but also wanted to hear you beg to have him inside you. The type of guy who wants you to give him those moans of pleasure. He swells and grows, and just when you can’t take it anymore, he will enter you with intention. When I read those books, everything is stronger and so overwhelmingly intense. My fingers trace every part of my body before I plunge them deep into my love hole. The explosion that “he” causes makes the water even softer. I can still feel his dominance as my body shudders and contracts. The rumbles slow as he releases pressure off my neck.

Reading In A Cab

I don’t do all of my reading in the bathtub. Sometimes I like to torture myself to build that pressure. Edging is painful, but the force of the orgasm makes it all worth it. I love to edge with my erotica books. Remember, when I read these books, I do become fully immersed. So another thing I will do to build myself is order a cab to do some reading. I’ll budget nicely for these because I want the ride to be at least an hour. If not a cab, then a crowded dinner cruise is always fun and torturous as well. As long as at least one stranger is around, then my game of one can be fun. I buckle myself in, pull out my book, and begin the journey.

Of course, I prefer to wear a short, flowy summer dress without panties underneath it. As I read, my fingers will start to caress my inner thigh a little too high. I spread my legs and look in the rearview mirror to catch his eyes. He sees my body begin to twist as I return my eyes to the pages of the book. After reading the driver well enough, sometimes I will rub my clit right there in the car as I turn the pages. Complete and open masturbation in front of a stranger is so erotic and always makes me reach my climax extremely fast after a good build.

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