I enjoyed the quiet evenings at my local library. The place was a far better choice than hanging out at a bar, though I'd checked out a couple of those, too. Being recently divorced and with my daughter away at college, I found it difficult to adjust to the emptiness in my house. I hadn't lived alone since I turned eighteen, and I discovered I didn't much care for it.

So instead of going straight home after work and drinking wine in front of the television, I had dinner by myself at a cafe once or twice a week. Afterward, I'd stop in at the library and do some work in one of the small study rooms.

Tonight, at a little before seven, the place was even more subdued than usual. I smiled at the librarian in greeting, then headed to my usual spot. It was a room at the end of a short corridor. A small window was set into the top part of the door, and a peek inside let me know the space was unoccupied.

Despite the November chill outside, the room was toasty, and after placing my laptop on the table, I shrugged out of my jacket. I was still wearing office attire: a blouse and skirt, along with heels. My hair, dyed a boring ash blonde to cover the ever-increasing gray, was pulled back from my face. I retrieved my glasses from my purse; since I'd turned forty, I needed them for reading.

The library's hush was deeper tonight, and I soon lost myself in reviewing notes for an upcoming project. I was typing away, adding a quick reminder to follow up with a client the following morning, when the door opened.

"Oh, sorry," a young man said, his hand still clutching the doorknob. "I didn't realize anyone was in here, and the other rooms are occupied..." He flashed an apologetic smile.

I wondered how he couldn't see me through the window. Maybe my chair was just out of view, but he had to have spotted my laptop.

"It's fine," I assured him. "Come on in. There's plenty of room."

There wasn't plenty of room, actually. The space could barely accommodate the table and chairs. But I'd come here to avoid solitude, so I had no excuse to turn him away.

The man's smile widened as he took me up on my offer. I noticed he hesitated before closing the door and shutting us inside the room together. He wore jeans, sneakers, and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He had no jacket, just his phone, keys, and a textbook. A college student, I told myself. Then I wondered why he wasn't at the college library. Maybe being on campus was too distracting for him. Maybe he was avoiding someone.

I sneaked a few more glances while he settled into the chair to my right. Now he was between me and the door; I'd have to squeeze by him if I wanted to leave. He wore his dark hair a little long, and I watched as he ran his fingers through the strands. His face bore some stubble. I imagined he was the kind of guy my daughter would go out with.

That thought made me return my focus to my work. As I resumed typing, I felt his stare on me. With my fingers still moving over the keys, I shot him a sidelong glance, and he grinned like I'd caught him.

He was cute, I admitted to myself. Innocently flirtatious. I figured he was popular with the college girls. Despite the fact that I was old enough to be his mother, I appreciated his attention. It wasn't as if I'd gotten much of that from the opposite sex lately.

It took all my effort to keep my lips from curving upward. Instead, I furrowed my brow and pretended I had no time for his games. He let out a faint sigh before opening his textbook and starting to read.

He was fidgety, shifting in the chair and occasionally drumming his fingers on the table. Every so often, he picked up his phone as if willing it to provide him with some entertainment.

His restlessness was more than a little distracting. I didn't know if I wanted to laugh or chastise him.

I ended up slipping my right foot out of my shoe and extending my leg, just a little, until my toes brushed against his calf.

He startled at that initial contact. Almost instantly, he sat up straighter in his seat.

"Sorry," I told him in a breezy voice. "I was just stretching my legs." 

Though I did my best to appear guileless, he raised an eyebrow. I knew I'd been caught, too.

"It's okay," he said. "I don't mind."

Something in his voice, low and teasing, made my pulse quicken. Maybe he wasn't so innocent, after all.

Again, I brushed my foot against his leg, but this time, he was ready for me. His stare held a challenge as my toes inched higher. I covered the curve of his knee, then reached the muscular plateau of his thigh. His lips parted a little, and I could hear him breathing faster. In order to tease his crotch with my toes, I had to slump in my chair. He pulled his own chair as close to the table as possible to help me out. If anyone glanced through the door's window, they would have little doubt about what I was doing.

While caressing him through his jeans, I allowed my fingers to trail over my left nipple. It was already hard beneath my blouse and bra. My face flushed hot, but it wasn't due to the overly warm room. No, I was aroused, just as this man was. I felt that needy throb between my legs, an ache that had been absent for months.

For a moment, he closed his eyes and basked in the stimulation my foot provided. I almost giggled upon hearing his quiet moan.

Carefully, I lifted my pen from the table, then dropped it at my side. The thin carpet muted the sound of the pen striking the floor. Still, the young man's eyes snapped open.

"Oops," I said in that silly, girlish voice. "I dropped my pen."

"I'll get it for you," he rushed to offer. He sounded a bit winded.

"No, no, you stay right where you are."

Before I could lose my nerve, I removed my other shoe, then crouched beneath the table, careful not to hit my head. Once I sat up, I found I was eye-level with the man's crotch. He was totally yielding when I placed my hands on his thighs and spread his legs even farther apart.

"Oh, my God," I heard him whisper.

I'd never done anything like this before, not even with my husband. We'd never been ones to kiss or hold onto each other in public. Maybe that lack of affection outside the bedroom had weakened our marriage. Maybe it was just one of many things that left me dissatisfied and ready to call it quits.

Now, I was free to carry on however I wanted. Well, within reason. I still needed to be careful not to get caught. But this guy seemed a willing accomplice.

He let me unbutton his jeans. When my fingers struggled with the zipper, he quickly came to my aid. I stroked his erection through his briefs while hoping my hands weren't cold.

His restlessness returned with the movement of his hips. "Fuck, yeah," he whispered as I reached into his underwear to play with his cock. It was perfectly average, framed by trimmed pubes. My fingertips soon grew slick with his precum. I realized my mouth was watering.

Due to the cramped space under the table, I had to practically bury my face in the man's crotch, but I didn't mind. It gave me the chance to nuzzle his dick and balls, and inhale his scent. He let out a shuddering sigh at the feel of me licking him.

"You're so fucking hot," he groaned. "And I'm so hard for you."

In response, I wrapped my lips around his cockhead. This elicited a dangerously loud moan from him. I busied myself with sucking and licking. His precum held a trace of sweetness that made me crave more. 

He slipped a hand under the table and rested it on my head. I let him guide me downward until his tip popped into my throat and caused me to gag. I was soon drooling on his dick, and when he released his hold on me, I circled my fingers around his shaft to jerk him off. My saliva provided ample lubrication.

"Wait," he begged. "Ah, fuck, wait, wait!" His tone grew urgent, and I had to remind myself that most guys his age didn't last long. My efforts had clearly gotten him worked up.

"Come out from under there." Now, he didn't sound like a flirtatious college student. Instead, he sounded like an angry boss ready to reprimand a subordinate.

Yet his grasp on my arm was gentle as he helped me climb out from under the table and rise to my feet. In a second, he was standing as well. His cock, now mottled crimson and glistening with spit, strained out from him.

"I'm gonna fuck you," he said, as casually as he'd comment on the weather. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

"I wanted it as soon as you walked in here," I confessed.

In two steps, he pulled me into the corner, out of sight of that window. But what if someone opened the door? Dear God, I'd be banned from the library. Who got banned from the library?

Despite my skyrocketing anxiety, I didn't try to talk my way out of the situation. I gladly let the college boy take control. He turned me away from him, toward the wall. My cheek was soon pressed against the cool plaster. With rough hands, he lifted my skirt. 

"Stockings," he said with a low laugh. "Perfect."

I shivered from the sensation of his palm gliding over my buttocks. He gave my flesh a squeeze, then a playful smack. I loved the way he fondled me, like I was a new possession he was growing acquainted with.

"We need to hurry," I reminded him. Reaching between my spread thighs, I pulled the crotch of my panties to the side to grant him easy access. I couldn't believe I was allowing a stranger to fuck me without protection.

My invitation prompted him to guide his tip to my opening. I muffled a cry when he thrust inside.

Almost instantly, the sex ratcheted up to a brutal pace. I splayed my fingers against the wall as he bent me forward so my ass was angled back toward him. I started whining, "Please, please, please," encouraging him to fuck me hard and fast. 

The moment he got too close, his hips slowed, and he took the time to grind against me. I felt the rotation of his cock within my cunt. Impatiently, he tugged at my blouse, his grip threatening to pop the buttons loose. Somehow, he got his hands under the garment and yanked down my bra so my tits were swinging free. 

"You haven't been getting what you need," he told me between heavy breaths. "But don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you."

I let him straighten me up and practically impale me on that dick. It felt much larger in my pussy than it had in my mouth. While he was buried inside me and I was standing on tiptoes, his fingers snaked downward to rub my clitoris.

I had to cup a hand over my mouth to hold back a loud moan. Still, an anguished sound emerged while I shuddered and spasmed. Every muscle tightened until I felt I was a frayed string pulled to the point of breaking. It was all I could do to grab his wrist and stop him from tormenting my clit any further.

He grabbed onto my hips, hard enough to mark my skin. I again leaned forward, bracing myself against the wall. Another orgasm, only slightly more subtle than the first, wracked my body while he neared his own climax.

"Gonna come!" His tone bordered on submissive. "Where do you want it?"

"In my pussy!" This was beyond reckless. I'd moved into dangerous territory, letting him fuck me raw. But I couldn't bear the thought of him pulling out. I wanted to be filled.

His cries sounded helpless. Anyone in the corridor could have heard us. For a final time, he drove his cock into me, then halted as the orgasm overtook him. I was shocked to feel each spurt of semen. Not once had I experienced that sensation with my ex-husband.

I felt a jolt course through my lover; it made his cock give a fierce pulse. I smiled while clenching my muscles to milk him dry.

Abruptly, he pulled out. "Too sensitive," he said with something like regret.

I didn't have the chance to straighten up before he turned me toward him. His mouth met mine in a desperate kiss, as if he feared I'd deny him the opportunity.

And truthfully, I should have, since his cum was already seeping out of me. I needed to clean myself up. Yet I couldn't resist engaging his tongue in a playful dance. His lips were full and soft, and his hands were now gentle while cupping my face.

Reluctantly, I broke the kiss. "I need to use the restroom." It was humiliating to stand before him and tuck my breasts back into my bra. I turned away as I finished straightening my clothes. "That was risky." My laugh was shaky. "Too risky."

"I've never come so hard in my life," he revealed.

Those words made me hot and flustered. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "Me, either." With unsteady hands, I gathered up my things. "But now, I need to go."

His expression was almost wounded when I pushed past him.

"Wait," he called after me. "You need your..."

I didn't linger long enough to hear the end of his sentence. Keeping my head down, I strode toward the restroom as fast as I could. All the while, his cum continued leaking out of me to soak my panties.

Only after I'd relieved myself and tidied up, and allowed my pulse to return to normal, did I realize I'd left my jacket in the study room. That must have been what he was trying to tell me.

I waited several more minutes, taking extra time to wash my hands and examine my reflection in the mirror. Did I look like I'd just been fucked? I certainly felt like it!

One of those silly giggles bubbled up from my throat. That guy would have a helluva story to tell his friends! But would they even believe him?

When I felt confident the college boy had left the library, I emerged from the restroom and looked around. The librarian sat at the front desk, her stare fixed on a computer screen. With as much dignity as I could muster, I drew my shoulders back and retraced my steps down the corridor and to the study room. To my mortification, I discovered the space reeked of sex.

My jacket was neatly folded on the table, and beside it, I saw a scrap of paper. Swallowing hard, I leaned forward to read the note.

My name's Caleb btw. Call me.

He'd printed his number in painstakingly neat penmanship, as if he feared any sloppiness would render the information indecipherable.

I tucked the note into my purse, then took a moment to put on my jacket. Upon leaving the room, I turned off the light and closed the door behind me. My smile refused to dim while I wished the librarian a good night on my way out of the building.

Now that I'd met Caleb, maybe I wouldn't have so many free nights to spend at the library, after all.