“You get your jollies making me play with myself until I orgasm or put clothespins on my clit and seeing me squirm,” I reminded him while painting...a picture of me in tender pain trying to hide my pleasure.“Yes, but that is because I like giving pleasure. It turns me on to see you turned on. I like what you are doing, but I can’t help but wonder, do you want to have sex with me?” he asked.That question made me less than horny. Yes, I was trying to make him think he could fuck me. He wasn’t. Even of that two percent, many were copyists who knew not what they were copying, but treated words as if they were pictures to be replicated.If Esala had 50,000 inhabitants, which could easily be high, then maybe a thousand people could read. If half were copyists, then only 500 would dare to approach a book. Yet this shop had near 100 books! Who had the money and the wherewithal to purchase such luxuries?The merchant gave him a once over, determining his ability to purchase based on his. More

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