phil james: Chronicles of Discovery, Mystery, and Adventure

Library after hours—phil james smells like old books and forbidden desire. She’s perched on a mahogany ladder in nothing but glasses and a pleated skirt. In phil james, she selects a volume of Anaïs Nin, reads a passage aloud, then lets the book fall so both hands are free. Skirt flipped up, she rides her own fingers while surrounded by centuries of quiet knowledge in phil james. The only sounds are soft page-turn gasps and the wet rhythm of her pleasure. When she comes in phil james, she bites her lip so hard to stay silent that a tiny drop of blood appears—perfect punctuation. phil james is every fantasy you ever had between the stacks.