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The Librarian

The Librarian

Silence is golden...
The squeaking trolley wheels were the only sound that filtered through the library as I leisurely strolled up and down the repetitive aisles. Stacking books onto shelves, at 8pm, was not an ideal way to spend a Friday evening, boring in fact. It was quiet… deathly quiet. Carrying out the same routine for a little over twelve months now had begun to get tiresome. I had not envisaged, graduating and remaining in the same university to become a librarian, but the money was good.

There must have been no deadlines to meet. There was no mad student rush for a quick loan of a few books in a last minute attempt to complete their assignments. Another quick glance down the deserted aisle, I knew I was alone. I sat down in the comfortable, red leather armchair, my usual spot at the back of the library, and crossed my legs in my tight pencil skirt.

A few nights prior, I had discovered a new favourite author of mine. The words on the page had danced around in my mind. I became absorbed in the flow of the story. I was there. Lost in the romantic world of the love and desire. I was saving the last part, the delicious section of where the main character was to claim the woman as his.

My forefinger quickly slid along the spine of the well-used paperback before I rested my back against the soft leather material. I tucked a loose dark curl behind my ear before licking my fingertip. I proceeded to turn the pages to find chapter twenty-three. Gently biting my lower lip, I could feel my teeth scraping against the freshly applied nude lip-gloss. The heat was already rising between my thighs as the words sucked me in. I could feel my breath becoming deeper, my chest rising and falling more prominently.

My eyes scanned the words as they came alive before me, gluing me to my chair and making me watch the seductive show.

‘She was wet. The moisture in her gusset was causing her blue cotton panties to stick to her freshly shaved mound. His breath caught in his throat at the delectable sight of her plump lips.’ 

I continued to read the words, feeling my own moisture gently seeping from my core. I shifted slightly in my seat as the damp patch in my lemon panties began to become a reality. Turning the page I licked my lips and once again, biting down onto my bottom lip. The story was unfolding before me. The main character was slowly peeling her panties down, revealing her blossomed sex. She was ready for him. I could almost smell her arousal.

The instant turn on for me was a stark reminder of the lack of intimacy I had experienced recently. My plastic companions had been of great support when needed my sexual appetite sated for a short time but I needed fucked… fucked hard. I squeezed my thighs together at the thought, capturing the warm sensation, which caused more liquid to seep between my lips.

I glanced down at my white blouse; the outline of my erect nipples was poking through the material. An electric tingle coursed through my body. I quickly glanced around the library; I was still alone. I trailed my hand up my stomach and clamped down on my breast. My hardened nub needed tweaked. It was naughty of me but I needed it to be touched. Undoing the top few buttons I slipped my cold hand inside of my blouse.

My fingertips felt cold against my warm flesh. I slowly danced them down my chest before reaching the shapely mound of my breast. I teased at the lace trim, running my red painted nail along the edging. I quietly gasped as I pushed inside of my bra and pulled on my aching nipple and softly moulding my breast. I tugged my nipple harder as I read the filthy words. He had bound her now. She was his.

I could barely stand the aching of my loins as I played the image in front of me. The female character was stripped and on her knees for him, being offered his dripping cock. I needed it. I wanted to feed on his engorged phallus. I wanted it to tease my glossy lips before pushing inside of my red, hot mouth. My nipples were hard enough to cut glass. It was no use. I needed to go to the bathroom. I needed to touch myself.

I tilted my head over the back of the armchair and glanced around the library again. There was no one there. I wanted to finish the chapter but I knew my aching pussy couldn’t handle it. Fleeting images filled my mind. There was no way I would be caught; I just needed a quick release. I flicked over the next page, sucking in the insatiable words.

Reaching forward I placed the book down before grabbing the hem of my tight-fitted skirt and peeled it up my thighs. Thank goodness I had opted for lace hold ups, no tights. I wriggled in my seat until my skirt was up around my waist. I quickly unfastened the remaining buttons on my shirt and fished out my tits.

Although I was partially clothed I felt so exposed. Glancing down at my lemon panties I could see they had stuck to my lips just as they had done for the female lead in the story.

I felt aroused to the point of sexual agony. I slouched in the chair, splaying my legs wide. My fingertips brushed the length of my saturated crotch. I gasped. I gripped the side of the crotch and peeled them back, exposing my blossomed sex to the air. My tumescent cunt was aching and ready to be fucked. My fingers spread my pussy wide, attempting to release the ache before dancing their way up to my clit.

My forefinger slipped over my hard nub. Pursing my lips together, I tried to control the guttural moan that attempted to escape. I pinched the hood of my clit and frantically started rubbing my swollen nub harder. I wanted the release; I needed it. The gusset of my panties was slick with my juice. I could feel my orgasm building. I was close. I fought against my legs' automatic response to close as my passion rose within me. My arm knocked against my naked tits, which jiggled in response.

“Oh shit,” I breathed. I was about to cum hard.

As my two fingers pumped inside of my slick channel, I could feel my muscles tensing. I forced a third finger inside of me and stretched my tight cunt, riding into the blinding orgasmic rush. The warm juice rushed from my core, lathering my fingers. I lay with my head against the armchair for a few seconds, basking in the afterglow. Letting go of the crotch of my knickers I allowed my fluid to seep into my gusset, wiping my soaking fingers against the cotton.

Feeling the flush of my cheeks, I glanced around the deserted room once again. I turned back to the book and grinned. Maybe the position of a librarian was not such a boring job after all.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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