Some of things we did were improvised around the circumstances we found ourselves in; others were, for me at least, planned set pieces though I didn’t always tell her what was about to happen.
An example of the former would be the Friday night I noticed her heading into the university library. I followed her in without alerting her to my presence. The library was mostly deserted, as was to be expected on a weekend evening. I trailed her at a distance as she made her way toward the stacks in the rear and took note of which aisle she turned into. When it seemed as though she were going to stay there for a while I made my way there, checking each aisle for other people as I did. No one.
She had her back to me as I came down the aisle toward her. She was dressed simply in a shapeless gray summer dress and sandals, and she was holding a book open in her hands and flipping through the pages searching for something.
I leaned back against the shelves and waited for her to sense my presence. It didn’t take long before she lifted her face from the book and slowly turned around towards where I was standing. When she saw me she registered no surprise; she simply closed the book she had been looking at and returned it to the shelf. Then she reached down and opened the purse which was lying at her feet. She pulled out her glasses and put them on, then stood looking at me, not smiling or speaking. Just waiting.
I held my hand out, palm up, and made a lifting motion with my fingers. She looked around quickly to make sure there was no one nearby, then reached down, grasped the hem of her dress with both hands and slowly lifted it until her panties, and then her stomach, and then finally her bra were revealed. Her underwear was white, with a pattern of small blue and red stars and larger yellow shapes that looked like asterisks. She continued to simply look at me and wait.
After a while I held out my hand again. This time I waggled two fingers toward myself. At first she thought I’d meant for her to come closer and started to walk toward me, but I held up my palm and shook my head and she stopped. I reached out and tugged gently on the material of her dress. Then she understood.
She let go of her dress and allowed it to fall back into place. Then she reached behind her and unzipped it, pulled it free of her shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor around her feet. Then she stepped out of it, bent down and picked it up and held it out to me.
I took it...then turned and walked away.
She gasped slightly when she saw that I was leaving, apparently thinking that I was going to leave her stranded in the library wearing nothing but her bra and panties. But she said nothing.
To confirm her impression I went a couple of aisles back toward the entrance then ducked into one and stashed her dress on an empty shelf. Then I crept back around the other way to see what she was doing.
She was simply standing there, arms at her sides, waiting. But there was an anxious expression on her face.
I continued to watch her for several minutes. After a while she walked to the end of the aisle where I had left and carefully leaned her head out—looking for me, I assumed. I made a small throat-clearing sound and she whirled around to face me, her expression terrified. But when she saw it was me she relaxed again and stood quietly.
I walked over to her and began to fondle her breasts through her brassiere. She raised her hands and put them behind her head and closed her eyes. I turned her around and continued to massage her breasts as I pressed my erection between her buttocks.
After a while I reached up and took her right hand and drew it down to her waist, pressing it flat against her stomach before sliding it beneath the waistband of her panties. Then I turned her around to face me again and withdrew, leaning against the shelves behind me and crossing my arms.
She slowly lowered her other arm to her side, staring back at me—knowing what I wanted her to do. Then, still holding my gaze, she began to stroke herself, the movement of her hand inside her panties causing them to undulate in rhythm with her strokes. Her mouth slowly fell open as her gaze, without leaving mine, became inward, lost in the mixture of pleasure and shame that she found so irresistible.
If someone had come along right then and caught her masturbating in front of me in her bra and panties she would have been devastated, but the possibility of such a thing happening was obviously very arousing to her.
I decided to refine the situation somewhat and stepping forward, I knelt in front of her and slowly peeled her panties down so that they hung inside out on her thighs, leaving her loins exposed. She kept her eyes on mine and made only a small sound, a groan that seemed to fall between pleasure and sadness, as I did so. I remained kneeling for a while, watching her hand, now visible, sliding in and out between her legs.
Then I stood, still very close to her, still holding her gaze, as I unfastened and unzipped my pants and took out my cock and gently wrapped the fingers of her other hand around it. I let her stroke me for a while as she continued to touch herself. I could see she was beginning to get anxious again; I guess masturbating in her bra and panties in the university library didn’t seem as bad as masturbating with her panties down and fondling someone’s cock in the university library.