If The Apocalypse Comes, Fuck Me

During August, the store where I am employed is shut to visitors. In the latter part of the day, I go about adjusting the shelves of vintage books. On a particular occasion, while occupied with brushing off a treasured edition, a noise at the partially open shutter grabs my attention. I approach and unlatch the door, finding a young woman with slender legs and a stern yet lovely face. "Can I be of assistance?" I inquire. She expresses her quest for an antiquated version of the Book of Revelation. "Currently, shelves are being reorganized; perhaps, you could return in September," I suggest. Disappointed, she discloses her imminent departure following the end of her vacation. "Please, step inside." Taking off her sunhat and unveiling a striking face surrounded by shoulder-length black wavy hair, she poses an unveiling gaze with her intense black eyes. Her features, naturally defined, showcase a straight nose and bare lips exuding beauty without artificial enhancement. As she settles onto the aged gold damask sofa, legs crossed, her lean physique emanates a tenseness apparent to me. "I beg your pardon for barging in; I find myself utterly drained," she admits, swaying her short skirt informally, seemingly aiming to absorb the room's coolness. To my astonishment, a gap emerges as she spreads her legs, revealing a lack of undergarments. Amid this intimate view, a shaved genital area lies bare, strikingly pink against her creamy skin, with a tantalizing clitoris beckoning silently. Tongue touching that tender flesh, sensations escalate, eliciting faint moans evoking ecstasy from the mysterious lady, cascading like a forbidden verse that only heaven favors. With profound relief spilling into her demeanor, she points out, "Now, we may turn our attention to locating the Book of Revelation."