Remus Gets A Book

Remus Lupin loved books.

That much was no secret. Every Christmas he had a pile of new books from his friends. His living quarters were lined with shelves packed to bursting, and more books were piled in every available nook and cranny.

What was a secret, though, was exactly how much he loved books.

He had a special passion for rarities. He patched his robes endlessly so he could save his money for these finds, spending hundreds or sometimes thousands for something that would fill his needs. He forced himself to avoid auctions unless he had the money.

This time, he had the money.

A message had come in a couple of days earlier from a book dealer in London, a very reputable and famed establishment. Would Mr. Lupin be interested in purchasing a first-edition print of The Picture of Dorian Gray? Mr. Lupin was quite interested indeed. A year\'s savings and then some went to the dealer, and the book came to Remus.

He contemplated it now, resting on the table before him, still unopened. This particular book was special to Remus. He loved the language, the surreal air, the utter decadence. He often wondered about the book given to Dorian by Lord Henry and the impact it had. Did Dorian have the book bound in dozens of colors for the same reason he himself collected the books he did? Remus suspected it was so. He had had six rare copies of this book before (discounting the twenty-odd cheap paperback editions purchased hurriedly in desperate need), but never a first edition.

He allowed himself to run a finger lightly down the book\'s spine. His body shivered involuntarily. He lowered his head to the table and inhaled. The perfect scent of dusty book was undoubtedly the most exquisite thing he had ever experienced. His eyes closed and rolled back into his head. Heaven.

With the tip of a finger, he opened the book\'s front cover, then flipped in a few pages. The pages lay open, the words exposed, naked before him. He felt a bit intrusive on the book\'s privacy and felt it only fitting to slip off his own clothes as well. With his robes on the floor, he felt much more comfortable. Now he and the book were on the same level of intimacy.

He caressed the pages, thrilling to the feel of the paper\'s grain beneath his hands. The ragged page edges compelled him to run the tip of his tongue along them. He pressed the open pages to his chest and slowly rubbed it along his body, gazing at the book-dust left on his chest.

Reverently, almost worshipfully, he moved the book lower along his body. He carefully half-closed it around his engorged cock and nearly lost control right then. He pulled it away and carried it quickly to his bedroom.

He lay the open book on the bed, then leaned over it and wrapped the pages around his cock once more. Shudders rhrouhrough his body as he pushed into it again and again, finally ending in a ragged howl of ecstasy as he exploded onto the pages.

He glanced at the mess as he lay panting on the bed. Another first edition ruined, another year before he could do it again.