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Library Rendezvous

Returning a book late has consequences
Those gorgeous eyes of yours glare at me through the thick rimmed librarian frames because I am returning a book late again and that means paperwork for you.

I ask for a book about erotic photography techniques. You keep your stern look to drive home your mild annoyance at the late return, although my request has the effect of making the little hairs rise on your arms.

You are dressed in a pearl silken halter-neck with a low cut neckline and a grey tweed pencil skirt with red pleats. A bit too formal and tantalising, even for a librarian. Yesterday had been washing day and your regular bland outfits had not dried overnight. You recall that this morning you had tested each of your panties with a gentle squeeze for moisture and had found them to be quite wet. And that you had decided to go without.

You lean over, stretching to reach the returns stamp, allowing me a clear view down your halter-neck, which falls away from your perky breasts, free from bondage, as your brassieres had also not dried overnight.

You look up and catch me stealing the view. You hold the stretch and I swear I see the faintest of smiles twitch your pink, glossed lips.

"I'll have to fetch that book for you. It's at the back of the library. Will you help me with the ladder?" you ask, returning your attentions to stamping the late book, but without straightening your posture. You feel and I see your nipples stiffening and brushing up against the silky material.

"Certainly," I return in a deep husky voice that surprises you, "whatever you need."

You emerge from behind the returns counter, late book in hand and beckon me with a tilt of your head to follow you along the wide main passage between the rows of shelves. Your locks sway and bounce in rhythm to your steps toward the unvisited rear of the large room.

You suddenly dart into one of the small passages between the shelves and deftly insert the late book back on a low shelf, without bending at the knees. I see the back of your toned upper legs become more visible as your skirt rides up your legs to accommodate your supple bend. I trace your tight, sexy butt stretching the tweed pencil skirt to its limit. I need to adjust the bulge in my jeans to accommodate a wayward thought of standing right against you, my belt and jeans buttons undone and your skirt raised two inches more. You flash me a smile as you walk past me, twirling at a strand of your hair. You see my hand slip into my jeans pocket.

Your footfalls echo through the room as you approach the rear bookcase wall. I think my heartbeat does as well, while I watch your figure stride confidently as you tug at the twist in your hair with one hand and you massage your skirt back into position with the other.

At the rear wall you spin ninety degrees on your heel and head along the last passage toward a wooden ladder on railings. You wait for me to arrive, clutching at your skirt.

"Won't you take me, um, the ladder, over there?" you point toward the corner shelf, blushing slightly.

The ladder creaks on the railings as I wheel it over to the corner. Every sound seems amplified. I notice that the rungs are quite far apart.

"Erotic photography techniques is way up there," you point with a dart of your eyes, "just give me a minute and watch carefully, um, that the ladder doesn't move."

You lift your skirt slightly to free your legs to climb the first two rungs of the ladder. I spread my stance, placing my feet on either side of it and I hold the sides firmly as my chest and torso faintly brushes against your body. You linger for a moment, almost imperceptibly pressing your body backwards into mine before you climb the next rung. This step brings the bottom of your skirt level with my eyes. I gaze down your toned legs, admiring the velvety smoothness and then back up, taking a deep breath.

As you turn sideways and raise your leg to climb the next rung, I hope to catch a glimpse of your panties as your skirt rides up your legs. Your leg muscles flex and the skirt inches up along your velvety leg. As your foot reaches the next rung, your skirt rides up to reveal the shapely contour of your bent leg's inner thigh. I trace the bottom of the contour all the way to where I expect your panties, but see instead your closely cropped fine hair above your pussy slit and your clit peeping out, glistening, right in front of my eyes. You hold your position and look down at me, smiling.

"I'm not normally like this to people who return books late, but I figure you need to be punished," you whisper. "So your tongue will have to wait until I come back down..."

I feel a throbbing in my jeans.

"Yes, I've been very bad," I acknowledge, as you raise your other leg and position your feet on the rung as far away from each other as is possible, so as to gift me the best possible upskirt view.

"I bet you wish you had your camera trained on me right now," you continue to tease-whisper as you reach for a tall book and slide it out from between its neighbours and hand it down to me. "Hold the ladder steady, I want to turn around."

I place the book on the ground and look back up at you. You turn around and steady yourself on the ladder, feet spread. I can see your pussy slit clearly underneath your skirt and I watch it open, mesmerized, as you bend your legs to slip back down a rung. Your clit comes into view again as it slides out, more engorged than before. My mouth salivates as you press your butt against a rung, trapping your skirt against the rough wood. You keep lowering your body and your skirt just rides up against your smooth skin, bringing your pussy completely naked to rest in front of my mouth as your feet spread out on the next rung on your way down.

You feel my breath, hot against your wet clit and your fingers grip the ladder sides tightly, bracing for the moment that you feel the ridges and tip of my tongue lick at your sex.

You feel my chin comb into your thighs and then the first heavenly lick of my tongue, swishing from side to side with increasing pressure into your slit and electrifyingly over your clit, with the tip hooking under your hood and coaxing your clit to stretch into my mouth.

You feel my teeth scour your clit as I suck it taut into my mouth and you feel your legs trembling as you swallow a groan emanating from a shudder deep inside your pussy.

You feel a trickle of nectar flowing from your pussy along your thigh and convulse and arch your back as I release your clit and it slaps back against your pussy lips. You feel me lick up along your inner thigh, catching your nectar flowing down your leg and drinking it in with a deep lustful, "Mmmmmm."

You feel my mouth cup your entire pussy, wet and warm and you squirm to no avail for protection from the swirling licks of my playful tongue penetrating your pussy. Your knuckles lose all colour as they tighten their grip and your body shudders as it releases gushes of juices and you feel me lapping them into my mouth.

You still tremble slightly as you feel me kiss your pussy a fond goodbye. You release the pressure on the skirt against the rung and it falls to cover you again. You slide down the ladder and bump into my body. You float up onto your toes to kiss me, where you smell and then taste your own sweet nectar on my lips.

"Goodbye, Babe," you whisper, "go read your book and I'll pose for you at home tonight."

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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