Chapter 3 BOOK BOYFRIENDS TAKE HER FOR A WILD RIDE 1
I’ve always been crazy about books. Ever since I was a kid, I’d spend hours in the library, running my fingers over the covers, breathing in that old paper smell. It’s like the stories were part of me. My name is Eliza, and I run this small library in a quiet town. No one comes here much, which is fine by me. It gives me time to be alone with my books. But my love for them has turned into something more. I have this secret fetish. I dream about the characters jumping out of the pages and touching me, holding me, doing things to me that make my body heat up. It’s embarrassing to admit, but just thinking about it gets me excited. My heart beats fast, and I feel a wetness between my legs that I can’t ignore.
One gray afternoon, it was pouring rain outside. The library was dead empty. No one to bother me. I locked the front door early and turned the sign to closed. My hands were sweaty as I picked out my four favorite books from the back shelf. There was the pirate story with Captain Thorne, a tough guy who sails the seas and takes what he wants. Then the vampire book with Lord Draven, all dark and mysterious, with eyes that pull you in. Next, the cowboy tale with Buck, rough and ready from the wild west. And finally, the barbarian adventure with Garrick, a big brute who fights with his hands and conquers everything. Each book had men who made me blush when I read their scenes. Strong arms, deep voices, bodies that promised trouble.
I wiped the dust off the big wooden reading table in the middle of the room. It was old oak, solid and wide, with scratches from years of use. Perfect for what I had in mind. I set up four candles, one for each book, lighting them with a match. The flames flickered soft in the dim light. I placed the books open on the table, pages spread wide. In my pocket, I had the spell from that ancient book I found last month. It talked about making words real. I whispered the words slowly, my voice shaking a bit. The air felt heavy, like before a storm. A strange buzz ran up my arms, making my skin tingle. My chest got tight, nipples poking against my thin blouse. Down below, my pussy started to ache, a warm drip soaking into my plain cotton panties. Was this really happening? I hoped it was. I wanted it so bad.
The pages started to move on their own, flipping like a breeze was blowing through. But the windows were shut tight. A cool wind picked up anyway, messing my brown hair and chilling my neck. I stepped back, my breath coming quick. From the pirate book, a swirl of gray smoke rose up, thick and salty-smelling.
Then Captain Thorne stepped out. He was taller than I pictured, with a black hat tilted on his head, a white shirt half-open to show his hairy chest and strong muscles. His pants were tight, hugging his legs and bulging right at the front where his dick was. His eyes were black, staring right at me like I was treasure.
‘Lassie,’ he said in a rough voice, like rocks grinding, ‘ye called me out for some fun, eh? Time to raid ye proper.’
I couldn’t speak. My mouth went dry. Before I could try, the vampire book glowed a soft red. Smoke curled out, cold and misty.
Lord Draven appeared, his skin white as milk, long black hair falling over his shoulders. He had a fancy cape over a tight black shirt and pants that showed off his slim but strong build. Fangs peeked from his smile, and his eyes were blood red, locking on my throat. He sniffed the air slow, like a wolf.
‘I smell your heat, little one,’ he said soft, his voice smooth as silk. ‘Ye brought us here to taste ye, to drink deep.’
The cowboy book shook next, pages tearing a bit as Buck jumped out. Dust puffed around his boots, like he brought the desert with him. He wore a brown hat, a red shirt with sleeves rolled up to show tanned arms full of muscle, and jeans that stuck to his thick legs.
A belt with a buckle and a rope hung low on his hips. He grinned wide, teeth white, eyes blue and playful. ‘Howdy, miss,’ he drawled slow, tipping his hat. ‘Looks like you need some tamin’. I’m just the man to rope ya in.’
Last one was the barbarian book. It burst open with a bang, green smoke billowing thick. Garrick stepped through, huge like a tree, no shirt on, just scars crossing his wide chest and flat belly. His arms were thick as my thighs, legs covered in fur boots.
A small cloth wrapped around his waist, but it hid nothing—his dick made a big lump there, heavy and ready.
His hair was long and tangled, beard full and wild. He let out a low growl, flexing his fists. ‘The summoner woman,’ he boomed, voice deep like thunder. ‘Ye wake the warrior. Now ye get claimed, filled by the tribe.’
My knees went weak. I backed up until my butt hit the table edge. These men, straight from my dirty dreams, stood there in a circle around me. Their eyes burned with want, bodies tense like they’d pounce any second. My pussy throbbed hard now, juices running down my thighs inside my skirt. My bra felt too tight, breasts heavy and sensitive.
‘I... I did this,’ I stammered, voice small and breathy. ‘I wanted you. All of you. To... to take me.’
Captain Thorne moved fast, like a wave crashing. His big hands grabbed my waist, rough calluses scraping my skin through my blouse. He yanked me close, my body pressing into his hard chest. He smelled of sea and smoke, beard tickling as he smashed his lips on mine. His tongue pushed in rough, tasting my mouth, swirling deep. I moaned loud, hands grabbing his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin. The kiss was hungry, teeth nipping my lip.
The others came closer, closing the gap. Lord Draven’s cold fingers worked the buttons of my blouse, one by one, slow and teasing. The fabric fell open, showing my white bra. He didn’t bother with it gentle— he pulled the cups down hard, my breasts spilling out. They were full, C-cups with pink nipples standing stiff in the cool air. Draven’s mouth latched on one, fangs scraping light as he sucked hard. The chill from his lips made me gasp, but his tongue flicked fast, sending sparks down to my core.
‘Such warm blood under soft skin,’ he whispered against my flesh, switching to the other nipple, biting just enough to make me whimper.
Buck got behind me, his warm body pressing my back. His hands slid up my skirt, bunching the fabric high on my thighs.
‘Darn, you’re smooth as fresh cream,’ he said low, squeezing my ass cheeks through the panties. He gave one a firm slap, the sting making me jump and yelp into Thorne’s mouth. The sound echoed in the quiet room.
Then his fingers hooked the panty edges, pulling them down slow. They stuck a bit from my wetness, then slid off, leaving my pussy bare. I keep it shaved clean, lips puffy and pink, clit peeking out swollen. Cool air hit it, making me shiver, more juice leaking out.
Garrick stood to the side, watching with those wild eyes, his cloth tenting way out. He grabbed my right hand rough, pressing it to his crotch.
‘Feel the fire ye lit,’ he grunted. The thing under there was hot, thick as my wrist, jumping at my touch. I squeezed soft, feeling the veins pulse, the head flaring big.
They didn’t waste time. Thorne and Buck lifted me easy onto the table, like I was light as a book. The wood was cool and hard under my bare ass, skirt still hiked up, blouse open and bra pushed down. My legs dangled, but they grabbed my ankles, spreading them wide. I was open for them, pussy glistening, hole twitching. ‘Yes,’ I begged, voice breaking. ‘Please, do it. Use me.’
Thorne laughed deep, fingers fumbling his belt. His pants dropped to his boots, cock bouncing free. It was long, maybe eight inches, veiny with a curve up, head fat and dark purple, a drop of pre-cum shining at the tip. He gripped it, stroking once, eyes on my slit.
‘Captain claims the harbor first,’ he said, stepping between my legs. He rubbed the head up and down my folds, coating it in my slick. It felt so good, teasing my entrance. Then he shoved in, one hard push, burying deep.
I screamed, head falling back, back arching off the table. He filled me full, stretching my walls tight around him. It hurt a touch at first, but the ache turned to bliss quick. He pulled out slow, then slammed back, balls smacking my ass loud.
‘Ye’re tight like a locked chest,’ he groaned, setting a steady rhythm, hips snapping forward. Each thrust hit deep, rubbing spots inside that made stars burst in my eyes.