Exploring the Librarian
“I definitely think there’s a place for the erotic in the library, don’t you?”
She really is far too sexy to be a librarian, but then I suppose walking into a library and seeing someone like her is every man’s or in this case woman’s, fantasy.
We are sat facing each other, side on to a table. The sole book the small library had produced on Victorian morality rested, unopened, on its top.
“So, what do you do?” she asks as she uncrosses and then recrosses her long legs. The fine black nylon of her stockings hissing slightly so that the sound entwines itself with her words.
“I’m a writer.” I smile, knowing which question would come next.
She simply smiles at me.
“Erotica,” I say.
“I always think it’s such a shame that we haven’t got a special section for that. I definitely think there’s a place for the erotic in the library, don’t you?”
She leans forward. I noticed one button of her white blouse had parted revealing soft, white skin and the merest hint of the cleavage of her full breasts. A name badge with Jane on it in bold type seems to thrust itself towards me.
“Have you ever written anything about a sexy librarian, wearing stockings and suspenders, being seduced between the shelves?
She twists a curl of her long, dark, hair between her fingers and her face is a picture of enquiring innocence.
“Not yet,” I said, trying to look as innocent as she is. “I would need to do some research.”
She looks at her watch. “The library closes in fifteen minutes, there aren’t usually many people in at this time. Maybe I could help you with the preliminary exploration of the subject?”
The light is dimming outside and, through the automatic glass doors, I can see the street is empty.
She stands and walks between the lines of bookshelves. I follow watching the beautiful curves of her behind swaying like a catwalk model’s beneath her tight skirt.
The library was small, maybe no more than thirty paces long. At the end of the shelves she turns and the long scarlet talons of her fingernails flick another button of her blouse open.
Smiling, she begins to slide the hem of her skirt up her stocking clad leg. It concertinas into satin folds revealing, first, lacy stocking tops and then creamy white flesh.
I step closer, almost running into her in my haste. Our lips press together and we suck greedily at each other, our hands raking across the material of our clothes in a frustrated desire to feel the skin beneath.
My fingers slide up the nylon of her stockings and then brush warm flesh. Urgently I move my hand up expecting to feel satin but there is no resistance. My fingertips sink between the hot folds of her sex.
She breaks the kiss and her mahogany brown eyes twinkle with naughtiness. “You have no idea how frustrating it is spending the day in a small rural library wearing no knickers.” She giggles, “Especially when all that comes in is old men looking for books on gardening,”
Her hands are clawing at my skirt as she speaks, pulling it up until her fingertips press hard against the thin cotton that shrouds my sex.
I moan quietly and sag against her as the familiar feeling shudders through me. I know she can feel my arousal seeping through the sheer material.
Eagerly she pulls it away and I feel her fingers curling into me. I quiver as she presses them against the spots only a woman knows and then slides them out and back onto my clit.
Gasping for breath, I press my silk coated fingertips to her bud, circling them against it, pressing hard, before sliding my hand back and forth so that her lips slip between my fingers.
We are both panting, both on the brink of coming when we hear the hiss of the automatic doors opening.
We shuffle sideways slightly so we are hidden by the end of the bookshelf and peer cautiously around it, Jane looking over my shoulder and me twisting around with my skirt hitched up, my panties around my knees and my naked bottom on show.
We watch an elderly man place a book on the self-service machine, our fingers still inside each other. He reaches into his pocket and carefully balances a pair of glasses on his nose. Peering at the screen, he jabs a finger at it and the machine beeps.
The man drops the returned book into the box and turns and looks into the library. Jane and I dodge back behind the shelves, our fingers still deep in each other’s pussies. He takes off his glasses and peers in our direction.
The lights go out.
“Closing time,” Jane hisses in my ear, “Keep still, they only come back on if there’s movement.”
The man obviously takes the hint as I hear the doors hiss open as he leaves.
“They’ll lock automatically,” Jane says as her tongue surges into my mouth again and her fingers curl inside me.
We are immediately caught in a pool of light as the sensors catch the movement and we both look up.
“Wait a moment,” Jane’s fingers slip out of me. “I’ll go and turn the master switch off.”
The lights seem to follow her, coming on above her in response to the movement. She has not bothered to pull her skirt back into place and I wonder if anyone outside is startled to see a librarian in stockings with slender thighs and her pussy exposed dashing across the library.
The lights go out and she is back.
“Do you mean I am now locked in a library with a horny librarian for the night?” I giggle.
“You may be,” she says as her fingers slide back between my legs. “After all, I’m the only one with a key,” Her lips brush against mine.