1. Him

Spring was his second favorite season (it had too much false hope for his taste, for which reason he preferred the bittersweet, poignant colors of autumn), and that evening the library was unusually quiet. The twilight had just finished stretching out into the youthful energy of the evening, and the golden yellow lights adorned the books and the bricks alike. There was something numinous about libraries, he had always theorized. They were portals to multiple universes, a point lost on the many who don't read, even though they could.

It was for that reason that his Sundays always ended with a few hours at the library, a sanctum for his mind and soul amid the chaos. It was one of the few routines he had always maintained, despite the manic schedule of being a second-time entrepreneur. 

That evening he was feeling unusually full of life. The French have a wonderful phrase 'joie de vivre' denoting an exultation of the spirit. And for the spirit to be alive, the body and mind needed to be alive too (in that order). The weights at the gym supplied the endorphins and testosterone. The blues playlist on his run enlivened the mind. And the library would awaken his spirit.

He walked past his favorite sections–physics, architecture, finance, psychology--and briefly philosophized that the best way to organize information in a library was just to make it random. Encourage serendipity to emerge, rather than subsume to mindless structure for its own sake. He settled down into a corner with a stack of books on psychology. By the window, quiet, tucked away. The thrill of a new book felt similar to the thrill of a first date. He chuckled to himself as the thought crossed his mind. He ran his hand over his groin, and felt his body well and truly alive under his jeans. 

2. Her

The cacophony of sounds made by the children next door seemed to burrow into Scarlett’s head. The deadline for Scarlett’s article was tomorrow. In fact, this was the third and final deadline, having had it extended twice already. Try as she might, she couldn’t pull the damn thing into shape. She stared at her laptop in despair; she needed inspiration. In her first decisive move for hours, she slammed down the lid, jumped to her feet, grabbed her laptop and ran out the house. The library was always the place she went to for comfort and inspiration--there was something about the smell of the books, the peace and quiet it offered. She hoped too that she would find what she needed for the article in the books there. There was a whole section on the subject, there must be something that would help. 

It wasn’t far from her house. The library was bathed in the pale golden light of the late afternoon that seemed to make everything more beautiful. She leaned into the old wooden doors at the entrance to the library and pushed them open, disappearing into the dark quiet interior. At this time on a Sunday, it would be quiet.

Scarlett weaved through the rooms and corridors with practiced ease, heading for her favorite thinking corner. It was the quietest spot in the library, overlooking the lawn outside, shielded by the shelves of psychology books with the most comfortable chair she had ever found, big enough to curl up in and tuck her feet underneath. She walked quickly through the nearly empty hall towards her spot around the psychology shelves and stopped dead. 

There was someone in her chair.

3. The chair

She stared in upset and disbelief. There was a man, sitting quietly, reading. 

As she stared at him he looked up and caught her gaze. In that instant, the rest of the room melted away. His dark brown eyes spoke of mischief, humor and kindness; she felt an immediate connection. She stood there awkwardly, staring at him, suddenly very conscious of her old leggings and the large shapeless jumper that she had thrown on, torn between an intense attraction and an equally intense irritation.

He glanced sideways at the feminine shape hovering a few feet from him. Looking up slowly, as if expecting an old friend, he absorbed Scarlett’s full figure and involuntarily whistled under his breath as absorption turned to admiration, in turn to attraction. The jumper might have been shapeless, but what was underneath was certainly not, and those legs seemed like they had been well looked after. And he wondered if they would feel as good as they looked when wrapped around his hips.

“Roscoe,” he said, standing up with a confident ease, his eyes twinkling as he held his gaze on Scarlett’s lips for a few seconds longer than would have been strictly necessary. “Have I stolen your spot, or were you expecting someone more handsome to be in this chair?”

Scarlett stood still; for the first time in a very long time, she was unsure of what to say. Her body reacted to him viscerally. She felt her heart race and parted her lips as if to kiss him before her logical brain took over.

“No,” she said hesitantly “it’s just that, that’s my chair, well, I mean, it’s not my chair really, because obviously it’s the library’s chair and, of course, no one can have a library chair, it’s just the chair I always sit in when I’m here.” She finished speaking in a rush. Whilst part of her mind was talking and not making much sense, the other part was wondering what it would be like to kiss him and wondering whether he would kiss her back as passionately as she would. She looked at him and imagined what it would feel like to wrap her body around his. She imagined them naked together, her breasts pressed against his muscular chest. She shook her head again as if to dislodge the images running through her mind. She had an article to write and a deadline to meet, and this wasn’t helping.

“I’m sorry,” she said slightly breathily, “I should go. I have an article to finish.”

4. Danger

“Wait.” Roscoe’s voice was firm, almost demanding, yet a pleasure to hear. It was literally the only word she wanted to hear from his mouth. He walked closer (too close) to her and his hands brushed against her jumper as it made its way up to her wavy hair. 

“I think you should… finish.”

He imagined his hands doing more than parting her hair. He imagined them firmly on her neck, softly choking her. He imagined holding her hands behind her back as he licked her neck, and her ears, and her lips. He imagined handcuffs. And he imagined his hands on her hips as he picked her up and drove her into the wall.

He sighed, bringing himself back to reality. 

“I mean… I don’t want to be between your body and your favorite chair on a night that you desperately need to… finish.” 

He winked, as his eyes met hers and they held each other’s gaze, forgetting to breathe for several long, delicious seconds. Roscoe could almost swear that he could feel Scarlett’s nipples aroused under her loose jumper. And he could definitely feel himself becoming hard. This woman, a stranger, felt so familiar, yet so distant. She was sensual and erotic and aroused him in a way no woman had before.

The touch of his hand on her hair, as he gently brushed it back woke her body. Her nipples hardened.  The electricity in the small space separating them was almost palpable. She stared into his eyes which drew hers in, they seemed darker now. She could just lean forward and brush her lips against his. More images flooded her mind of her body wrapping around him, of his cock driving into her, of her nails raking down his back as he emptied himself into her. She had never felt an attraction like this before, she felt herself become wet with arousal. Very wet.

She stepped back abruptly; this was crazy. They were in the library. She had a deadline to meet. They would definitely be banned for life if they did any of the things in her mind. But still.

5. The pause

“They say never start something you can’t finish.” She smiled at him. “That might be true of my article but I’ve got to try. I won’t disturb you.” She paused, not wanting to say how she felt but unable to ignore the fire between them, finally settling on “Not least because I don’t want to get banned.”

It’s amazing how much one can communicate with a seemingly innocuous pause. That pause told Roscoe everything he wanted to know. Everything his body wanted to know. It was a seductive pause. Flirtatious, inviting, naughty and devilish. He stepped closer, drawn in by her sexuality, her intelligence, her raw, erotic femininity.

“Look, I don’t know you much, except that you’re a stunningly attractive woman. But you strike me as someone who is not always content with blindly kowtowing to rules.” 

His eyes twinkled as his smile widened. He touched her forearm, gentle but firm. What was it about this woman that made him want to rip off her clothes and feel her skin on his body? He wanted to hear her scream as he unleashed himself on her. He wanted all of her, every inch. He wanted to drape her in gorgeous lingerie and then rip it off her. He wanted to be tender with her, yet split her open. He wanted to worship her, yet use her. Maybe he should just squeeze her ass and kiss her mouth, to hell with social etiquette. Roscoe was taken aback by the intensity of his desire but found it in him (barely) to contain himself.

“Besides, what if I want you…”

He paused for effect, his intent manifestly evident. 

“...to disturb me?”

6. Desire

Scarlett smiled; it was no longer possible for her to mistake Roscoe’s interest for anything other than the same burning desire she felt. She stepped past him, placed her laptop down on the table and turned back to him. She stepped close, closing the distance between them, pressing her body up against his, and whispered in his ear. “I’d be happy to oblige but the question is, are you going to get us banned?”

Scarlett ran her hand up the flat hard planes of his chest. His head dipped down to inhale the scent of her. She reached her hand up into his hair and turned her head to kiss him. Softly, she brushed her lips against his. He kissed her back, his mouth demanding more; the kiss deepening into a frenzy.

For a moment she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. There was just his mouth on hers, his hands on her, hers on him. Then she felt him pull her sweater up and broke the kiss to allow him to pull it over her head. Underneath, her firm breasts were hidden by her sports bra with the muscles of her stomach on display. His hands were warm as they skated over her flesh to find the straps of her bra and pull them down, revealing her breasts to him.

Roscoe needed no persuasion to run his hands fondly over her abs, his fingers admiring the definition created by what must have taken discipline and hard work. He wanted to say something to that effect, but instead, just growled in admiration as he turned her around. Deftly, with practiced ease, he released Scarlett’s bra from its duties as he placed his mouth at the back of her neck, nibbling. His tongue was soft, and the unpredictable swirling motion he made with its tip ran waves of anticipation all over her body. His right hand rested on her hip, squeezing it firmly and his left hand moved from her tight abs, playfully teasing her bellybutton all the way to her left breast, pinching her nipples. 

The way in which he pinched her nipples–firm, with a tiny hint of pain–told Scarlett that Roscoe was an intense man. In case it wasn’t obvious enough, she could feel his hardness through his jeans as he pressed against her ass, gently grinding her. Teasing and playful, but his smooth movements were a foretaste of what it would feel like to be drilled relentlessly by his heaving, passionate body.

Scarlett instinctively bent over slightly, pressing her ass further into him, as she let out a slow, low, intense groan and bit her lip. Roscoe’s grip on her hips strengthened, and he wrapped his hands around her, both hands on her breasts.

“I want you. Now.” He grunted.

7. Too fast

Roscoe slid his right hand between her legs and felt her heat running through his body. He imagined how wet she was for him, desperate to find out how she would taste in his mouth.

Scarlett gasped as the reality of the situation hit her like a bucket of cold water. She was half-naked in the library, about to be fucked by a man she had just met, desperate for his cock to fill the ache deep inside her. This wasn’t her usual style. She spun round in his arms. “Hang on handsome, do you not think this is going a little fast?”

“Well. You don’t strike me as the type who does this sort of thing often. I’m not either. But… It seems plenty clear to me what your body thinks of me.” He smiled that smile of his, disarming yet seductive at the same time. “And vice versa. So the question is not whether this is fast or slow, but whether you trust that heart of yours that is beating rapidly, that mind of yours that is intelligent enough to be insatiable, and that soul of yours that has connected to mine. There’s no one else here. No one will catch us, but I can stop if you want. Or we could take a walk under the stars and get to know each other. Or we just stop. It’s up to you.”

He paused, and then added, softly. “But I want you.”

He pulled her close into his arms and gently kissed her. Scarlett felt her resistance weaken, and reached her hands down to the hem of his top pulling it up over his head.

“I want you too,” she murmured. “But I’m not the only one who is going to be naked”, she added, winking.

His muscular chest was beautiful, and she ran her hands up over it approvingly, pulling him close and gently scratching her nails down his back as she kissed him hungrily. There was no going back. For this moment, she was his and he was hers.

8. Admiration

Scarlett’s hands felt warm on his body, and he hardened, as if touched by an erotic charge that was novel, yet welcome. What was it about this woman that he was taken so completely by? It couldn’t just be her obvious physical beauty–he’d been with plenty of attractive women before. Was it her quiet strength? The way her eyes seemed to… speak? Her deeply feminine energy? 

Her tongue melted in his mouth, and he reached his hands around her to squeeze her tight ass. He spread her ass as he kissed her deeply. He pulled away for a moment, wanting to admire the face that was attached to that sultry tongue. Where the fuck did this goddess come from, is what he really wanted to know. 

But instead, he asked, “What do you do with a mind as sharp as yours that you decided to tackle a subject such as this?”, nodding towards the stack of books and papers that were now strewn on the table. 

“I’m a technology entrepreneur, by the way. Now that we’re getting, ahem, acquainted.” It was the first time his body and mind were competing. He was beguiled by her and wanted to let himself loose to explore every dimension of her mind just as badly as he wanted his body to be unleashed all over her writhing, supple body.

“There’s a problem. I really don’t have a sharp mind right now,” Scarlett said. “You have stolen every coherent thought out of my head, and all I can think about right now is you, kissing you and fucking you, until neither of us can continue. Right now I don’t even care if we get caught, I just need you.”

“Correct answer.” Roscoe groaned as he drew Scarlett in closer. 

Scarlett kissed him again, reached her hands down to undo his jeans to unzip him.

“You’re beautiful,” she breathed softly. His cock was steel-hard as Scarlett felt every inch in the palm of her hand. 

“...says the woman who looks like a goddess.” Roscoe winked. 

9. The chair (again)

Roscoe let himself kneel slowly and in a slow, delicious movement, peeled off Scarlett’s leggings, an act that gave him great pleasure, as he watched every inch of her legs being slowly revealed in its smooth silky beauty. Satisfied with the eroticism of exposing her toned legs, he then stood up and his right hand squeezed her left butt and slid between her legs as he parted her wet panties. His fingers were warm, probing, as he massaged the tip of her pussy as his left hand pulled her hair back, his mouth hungrily gasping at her neckline as he made his way to her ears. A bite of her ears made Scarlett gasp, as he timed it with a finger sliding gently into her. 

The feeling of his finger slipping inside her, made Scarlett lose every last vestige of restraint. “I need you so much it hurts,” she groaned. She squeezed his hard cock in her hand, and let go and pushed him back towards the chair.

“I love this chair, but I think maybe I can share it for once.” Scarlett smiled and gently pushed Roscoe down into it. 

“Do you mind if I sit on it too?” It was not a question. Not really.

“I think there’s room for another,” Roscoe said.

“Thanks,” she said, smiling at him, she reached for his hard cock once more gently brushing the pre-cum off with her thumb. 

Scarlett smiled and sat naked on his lap, twisting her legs round over the arms of the chair so she sat facing him. She was ablaze with longing and desire, her womb ached for the feeling of his cock deep inside her, her nipples so hard they hurt. 

“I’m sorry, I just… need you inside me, Roscoe.”

“Say no more.” Roscoe’s voice was raspy, the lust in his eyes penetrating through Scarlett’s gaze, right through her body and soul.

10. Dance

Roscoe squeezed Scarlett’s tight ass again, while never taking his eye off her lips in an appreciative gaze. He pulled her up closer towards him, spreading her wide as he kissed her mouth again, his tongue melding with hers in a passionate frenzy of sexual energy. He ran his left finger between her ass and slid himself into her soaking wet pussy. 

Their groan in unison said it all. Scarlett bit her lip instinctively, as she ran her fingers over Roscoe’s thick hair and pulled it, as Roscoe entered her slowly, deliberately. Sex for the first time with a partner was always a thrill, an explosion of adventure and play and possibilities, and Roscoe wanted to savor this moment. It seemed evident from Scarlett’s face that she felt exactly the same. She closed her eyes and pushed Roscoe’s lips towards her aroused nipples, wanting him to devour her from the outside as he ravaged her from the inside.

Roscoe growled in pleasure as he felt Scarlett’s nipples in his mouth. He licked and bit them in equal measure, pain and pleasure alternating as he rhythmically felt Scarlett’s hips grinding him. He felt Scarlett relax and sink into him, her svelte body surrendering to this moment. He filled her up with one achingly slow thrust and held himself there. In that moment, he realized he would never find Scarlett naked enough, just like his cock would never feel deep enough inside her–he wanted to empty himself into her, and then some. This woman should never be allowed out of his sight ever again.

In their sexual embrace, they found their dance immediately. The slow, easy, passionate give-and-take that is only given to a lucky few. Roscoe placed his hands on her hip, grasping her firmly with a strength that seemed to say that he wanted to pick her up later and take her against the shelves. He pulled her hair back and smelled her–damn, she was divinely sexy. Scarlett pushed herself firmly on him as her hands touched his lips, his hair, his neck, his chest with uncontrollable fervor. She pinched his nipples with one hand and held his neck from behind with the other as she heaved and sank deeper into his body. She was dripping and knew in an instant that this would be one of the quickest orgasms she had ever had.

She came hard and fast, clenching like a vice around his rock-hard cock, panting his name. The sight of her flushed face and breasts, her body riding his, the grip of her pussy around his cock nearly made Roscoe cum there and then, but he had other plans for Scarlett.

“Can you manage another?” he asked her. 

11. Again

She kissed him deeply in response then said, “I have never cum so hard or so fast. I’m all yours right now Roscoe.” She looked out the window in front of her, the gardens were deserted and the evening was drawing in. They were slightly reflected in the window, it was as if she was in a dream.

“I have never wanted anyone so much--please make me yours. I want to feel you cum deep inside me, filling me up, overflowing and running down my legs.”

Roscoe needed no further persuasion to make her body his. He held his steely cock inside her, throbbing, as his tongue licked her breasts, her neck, her nipples and her lips. Scarlett had her eyes partly closed, relishing the delight of how her body felt on top of him, the intensity of the orgasm lingering deliciously still. She ran her fingernails on his back and moaned.

Her raw sexuality and femininity made him want to fuck her endlessly. And the thought of emptying his cum into her made him fervently horny, all over again. He picked her up, as she giggled in anticipation. “Oh what plans do you have for me, mister?”

Actions speak louder than words. Roscoe set her on the edge of the table, and lowered himself. Scarlett placed her hands behind her and arched her back, letting out an intense moan. She couldn’t believe she was soaking wet and ready for him again. She gasped as she felt Roscoe’s mouth between her legs, as his tongue began a devilishly twisting expedition from the base of her vagina to the top of her clit. Slow, firm, and flat, his tongue knew what it was going. As did his hands which were now on her breasts, pinching her nipples hard as he felt her sweat and heat through her skin. His tongue was skilled, swiftly moving in a patterned dance as his mouth started sucking the tip of her clit. Slow at first. Then faster. As Scarlett felt the pinch of her nipples get harder. Roscoe imagined an anal plug in her, and thought it was a real shame she was not in his bed tonight. Tied up. Blindfolded. Maybe next time.

Scarlett almost came again. But Roscoe read her body well.

“I believe it’s my turn, ma’am.” He winked. 

12. Hello again

Before she could react, he was in her again. Harder and deeper as his body pounded into her with a force she had been missing for a long time. She placed her hands on his right, hot ass, momentarily admiring how smooth his movements were, before she got lost in the growling beast which was being unleashed inside her over and over again. 

“I want to fuck you. Savour you. And fuck you again.” Roscoe’s forehead was on hers now, as he held her legs in his arms wrapped around his hips and she held his neck.

Then they lost control.

His cock, hard as steel, drilled deep into her. Faster. Harder. Firmer. 

Her pussy was on fire, as she dripped all over his cock, hungry for every inch as she tried to feel every nerve that seemed to be alive inside her. 

He slammed his body into her, nearly violent, as he growled like an animal. She responded by gasping like one. Every thrust of his was a statement. One that said her body belonged to him that night. And she received them in surrender, her deep ache releasing as she felt closer to orgasm again.

“I want you to cum and squirt all over me. I want you till you’re done. And then I want you again.” There was no hesitation in Roscoe's voice.

Hungrier. Hornier.

Roscoe felt Scarlett’s body starting to shake. As he felt himself lose control in ecstatic embrace. Never had he fucked a woman so hard, who made him want to fuck her again straightaway. 

Faster. Deeper. Harder. Firmer. 

“Take me. I’m coming for you.”

“You’re mine. I’m coming with you.”

Roscoe picked her up in a maniacal drive to rip her open, and pushed her against the shelves. A few books fell out. Scarlett’s eyes were not in her control, as she simply gasped and screamed as Roscoe drilled into her, again and again and again until their sweaty bodies melded into one and Roscoe groaned loudly as Scarlett felt a firehouse of cum flooding inside her the very moment when she felt herself climax into her very first orgasmic squirt.

They stood still as they soaked in each other's sexual release and caught their breath. 

“Fuck.”

“Fuuuuckkkk.”

They collapsed on the carpeted floor, spent, as they looked into each other’s eyes and kissed.

“Hello, handsome.”

“Hello, gorgeous.”

13. Next time

The sound of a door slamming loudly broke the moment. Scarlett gasped, and at record pace, dressed, throwing Roscoe’s clothes at him.

“Can’t get banned.” She said hastily, turning red in embarrassment at the thought of being caught. She hastily shoved the books on the shelves as the sound of voices grew near. She tied her hair up, grabbed her laptop, pivoting quickly to get ready to race out in the opposite direction to the voices. “Bye, Roscoe. Thank you.”

She hesitated, unsure of what else to say but as the voices grew closer, she went, worried that if she met anyone it would be far too obvious what they had been doing.

Roscoe stared after her, his words following too late to stop her. “You haven’t told me your name?”

“Next time,” were the only words she threw back to him.