Books are sexy, readers are sexier
“Between the covers of a book lies a world of exploration and climax.”
That’s enough to get your imagination ticking over, right? Just how sexy are readers and books? I’m talking about reading in general, not specifically romance or erotica books. Perhaps like intimacy, reading is a meeting of minds. A communing of desires. Sometimes done clandestinely, other times done in broad daylight with wild abandon.
Consider the act of reading.
You step through a door and ease it closed behind you. There they are. Books. They are all shapes and sizes. Some bold and brutal. Others flowery with promise.
With a smile of anticipation, you take a step closer.
There. On impulse, you gently touch a book that, for some unfathomable reason, attracts you. You gently pull it closer and shyly caress the cover. It feels good and with your thumb, you flick through its pages while inhaling its perfume. It calls to you.
A seat beside the fire beckons. Sitting, you spread the covers of the book across your knee, eager to expose its secrets. You tease it into a comfortable spot, dragging your fingers lightly down the page.
Your eyes widen as you begin to read. In heartbeats, you are lost in the adventure of it.
Words spin through your mind. You moisten your lips. The tempo increases and you fumble quickly to the next page, craving the rush. Excitement builds with every breath.
The moment stretches, carrying you ever closer to the crest. Desperate for it to finish, praying it won’t; you reach the final page. The world is you and the page. Nothing exists beyond that bond.
You reach the final line. The culmination of your journey. The peak. It is glorious, but is it the end? There is more. Heart hammering, you smile and turn the page.
Chapter 2 lies open before you.
If you haven’t read a book in a while, you are in for a treat.