Books, Butts and Bare Bodies

© 2023 PennameWombat

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

From the Library to the Row, accounting and skin have their own attractions stronger than gravity.

Tags: Nude Day 2023, Ass fucking, College, Cum swapping, DP, Exhibitionism, Outdoors, Public sex, Strap-on, Three men one woman

*****

The Library

"Hey, Trini."

The young woman stopped with her right foot two steps below the landing to the next floor and her left leg one above that on the broad stairs. She half-twisted at the waist and bent slightly to look down and behind. Her backpack with a single strap through her right arm swung to that side.

"I was wondering if you were going to show, RB," Trini said with a lilt, "or if hanging out in the Econ section was too boring on a sunny day. Pretty empty 'round here today."

He stopped just before the first stair and stayed silent for an extra beat as he didn't hide running his gaze from her black sneakers, up her bare legs, along her faded denim skirt to her bared midriff where it paused for a moment, before it found a sleeveless crop top that matched the skirt for color and finally arrived on a face whose expression had moved to a grin.

"Well, we were randomly paired for the report we need to do," RB said as he stopped after climbing the first three stairs, "and better to start research sooner than later."

"That attitude touches me deep in my black, black heart," Trini said as she stood upright but stayed still, "we might make a decent team."

Both went silent and nodded at two guys who clambered down the stairs ahead of Trini and spent an instant each to look at her before they also noticed RB below. Her face morphed to a friendly but not soft expression and they walked around her and continued to descend.

"I thought I was going to be paired with Brent," RB said after he'd offered them a quick nod as he otherwise remained still, "in which case I was ninety-nine percent certain I'd be doing ninety-nine percent of the work."

"Now you'll just have to do ninety percent," Trini said as she continued to look down, "I handle the broad outline. Leave the details to my collaborators."

RB let out an exhaled chuckle as the two passers-by turned their heads and blinked with surprise before they then looked at the guy near them. He dismissed them and turned to again look upwards and rose another step. Trini held her position but kept her gaze locked on RB. The two guys quickened their pace and only their descending footfalls were reminders.

"They didn't own it," Trini said firmly.

RB chuckled but gave her a confused look before he shook his head. He pointed upward with his right arm and spoke.

"Lame asses. Another floor to go to the Econ section, why don't you lead us on up."

She snorted but turned her body and stepped up. She turned to her left to approach the next flight of stairs as he climbed slowly.

"This the first time we've talked outside of class beyond a sentence or two and setting up this meeting," she said, "how do I know you can even read?"

"I can read the B U T T across your butt," he said, "seems a bit redundant but single syllable words I can handle."

She gave a hard hip shake and her skirt flared.

"Ah, there it is. Definitely B U T T," he added, "and it's not like anyone could miss that bright pink color."

"You pass the first test," she said as she led him up an additional flight, "we never talk outside of class because you always run away from me soon as we're done."

"No," he said quickly, "YOU run off."

"The pitfalls of both of us being poor and having actual jobs. So guess you have an excuse for ignoring me."

She reached the next floor and turned and watched him climb.

"No," he said, "you keep ignoring me."

She snorted again and stood with her left arm bent to rest that hand on her hip as her right hand held the strap of her backpack. She returned to her lilted cadence.

"Guess we'll have no choice but to pay attention to each other. At least for a while."

He met her at the top of the stairs and caught eyes.

"So lead on," he said, "ideas person. You have an outline for our report yet?"

"I have ideas," she said as they walked alongside each other, "but I'll need inspiration. Think you can inspire me?"

"Got some thoughts. You like words," he said, "like making sure people know what they're seeing when they look up your skirt."

She grinned. "Some people won't admit they're looking. I like ones who own it."

"Well, I could've rushed and caught up with you coming into the library," he said, "but with that skirt I figured I'd just meet you on the stairs. And you've obviously been in the library before, where air conditioning is a modern convenience for OTHER buildings in the summer and minimal clothing is recommended. But not all that close to what you usually wear to class."

"Definitely owning it. Work clothes. And been only a couple weeks, you haven't seen my full wardrobe. Clearly guidance you took to heart, too, and I can ask the same question," she said as she let her gaze trace his body head to toe and back to meet his eyes, "about those shorts and no sleeves either."

"Great minds think alike, work clothes suck," he said and she offered a left hand and they fist bumped.

"And speaking of summer," she said, "why are you taking Economics 201 with glorious sunshine outside? You already fail it?"

Her head tilt and tone made clear she didn't believe that.

"I assumed that was your reason," he matched her tone and she stuck her tongue out but her eyes were crinkled with silent laughter and he paused with a smile, "double major, comp sci and data science, economics an applied field for it."

"The dismal science. Must be why I like it. Similar, but poli sci and environmental science. Got a job locally and since Professor Hardacre was doing the session, and she's like the guru, decided to take it. Plus, frees up a slot in the fall."

"Again. Great minds think alike," he said and she offered a left hand for a second fist bump, "hey, this the area. Think we can squeeze ourselves in here somewhere?"

Their view was a square, open area surrounded by rows of shelves holding their books.

"I don't know," she said, "there's only four tables here and sixteen chairs and... all of them are empty. I, personally, require twenty-two chairs and twelve tables just so the expanse of my creativity can spread out."

"We'll squeeze it into that table," RB said as he led them to the far table, "econ section over that way. So, Ms. Creativity, what's your plan?"

They set their packs on the chosen table. Trini pulled a half sheet of notepaper from hers and held it in her left hand and waved it. RB unzipped his and pulled out a notepad and set it on the table.

"I have a few musty tomes we can start with."

Trini scanned the signage on the shelving. She looked back as she walked toward a row between two shelves. As she walked she flipped the back of her skirt up with her free hand.

Can you read more than one syllable words?"

"'BUTT.' I think. Want to test me?"

"I plan to, just need to find the right book. Least your eyes are good."

"Might be smaller text on there, give me a closer look," he said as he followed her into a row to the left of their table.

"So what's on the list?"

"Surprise, stay close," she said as she scanned the shelves to her left with slow steps. He let out a laughing exhale before she stopped short and her hip nestled into his crotch.

"Oof," he said. He shuffled his feet but kept himself snug as he set his right hand on the top of her right hip.

"Oh, found the first one," she said as she turned her head and looked up. The loose crop top revealed rounded flesh that was just over half-covered by white fabric and lace.

"So what is it?" His hand traced her waistband, two fingers on flesh and two on cloth as she moved her left hip in a slow circuit.

She set her note on the shelf as she pulled a book out with her right hand and leaned slightly to reveal almost all but the extreme fronts of her bra cups. She held the cover where he had no choice but to look at both sights and looked down with him. His hand felt the merest sheen of sweat as it abandoned the waistband and went flat and slid up her back. Fingers danced on his left thigh just below the hem of his shorts.

"A combined volume," he said, "'The Maner and fourme how to kepe a perfecte reconyng,' by James Peele, and his follow up 'The Pathe Waye to Perfectnes, in th'accomptes of Debitour, and Creditour.' So. We're going right back to the beginning."

"You're good, you almost sound like a sixteenth century genius," she pressed her hip more snugly into his crotch, "and it feels like you enjoy the thought of reading it."

A fingertip slipped under the cloth of his shorts and his fingers slid under the loose top and traced the back strap of her bra.

"Ya know," he said, "I was always taught that when a woman's undergarments match, she meant for you to see them. Yours don't match so shouldn't they stay hidden?"

His fingers danced around the hooks at the center of the strap. She slid a second finger inside the denim cloth of his shorts.

"If you promise you'll read to me," she said, her voice lowered and gained a slight rasp, "I'll make them match. If you'll match me."

She turned again to lock eyes. His fingers worked into place on her bra strap.

"I'll go—-."

"No. Do what you're gonna do, then...," she said in a continued husky tone, "then I'll—-."

He unhooked her bra and the cups loosened around her breasts.

"Damn. You're good at that. Musta had lots of practice."

"I have a few skills, some useful."

She shuffled away from him and her fingers left his thigh but slid along his constrained erection as she moved.

"Hold this," she said and handed him the book. He took it and she turned to face him and worked first one bra strap then the second through the top's arm holes and past her arms before she pulled it down past the crop top. She tossed it to him.

"Hold that," she said as her hands went under her skirt and pulled pink cloth down her legs. The top allowed a full view of her firm breasts as she bent, the tan on her previously exposed skin extended to the dark nipples. She pulled the panties to her knees then stood and shimmied as they dropped to her feet. She stepped out of them, bent slowly to offer an even better view of her breasts and stood with her pink handful. She reached out and he handed the bra to her.

"I'll get rid of these," she said, "you can match me, put these shorts back on. I'll fondle the book for a bit."

He handed it to her and turned to watch her as he let out a hum when she again flipped the back of her skirt to reveal flesh. Like her tits, the tanned skin for the flashed look seemed to match the rest. He quickly unhooked his belt and the button of his denim shorts, pulled the zipper down and pushed the shorts and his boxer-briefs down and forced them past his own sneakers. He glanced up to see her bent over the table skipping through the book she'd taken. He pushed his briefs aside and pulled his shorts on by feel. The tan indeed extended with only slight lightening across her ass cheeks from her thighs. He grunted subconsciously when he constrained the unavoidable erection into its denim prison.

He saw her back and head shiver as she straightened and turned. He bent and grabbed his briefs.

"Toss 'em here," she said firmly. He balled them and obeyed her order. She caught them.

"Not as colorful as mine," she said with a lighter tone. She spread them out on his pack and he saw that she'd put her panties on her pack, with the 'BUTT' hanging over the edge, the bra just past them, the cups pointing toward the ceiling. She twisted, picked up the book and did a runway walk to return to their spot between the shelves, her eyes locked on the bulge in his crotch. The loose crop top exposed the tops and bottoms of smooth, rounded flesh but hid nipples.

She stopped in front of him half an arm length away, the book in her right hand. His right hand touched the back of her left hand and she flexed fingers and pressed the arm into his fingers as they traced up her forearm.

"Back up," her husky tone had returned and she gestured with his chin, he did so and placed his back against the shelf from which Trini had pulled the book and she sidled to face him. His hand had come level with her breasts and as she locked his eyes she slowly spun to her left, giving his fingers no choice but to trace and quickly massage her left nipple then the right, both added slight bulges to the cloth. Once she'd turned completely she moved until the top swell of her ass made the merest contact with his hidden erection.

"You can read over my shoulder?" She still held it in her right hand. Her left hand landed on his left hip and slid down a few inches.

"Not a problem."

"Hold it in your left hand, I'll change to the pages I want you to read with my right hand," her left hand was flat against his thigh, which flexed with the pressure, "oh, nice... rest..."

She let out a purr as his right hand, given freedom of movement, landed on her firm stomach before it used the sheen of sweat to slide under her crop top. Her right breast slightly overflowed his palm. He shuffled slightly and reached past her and she flipped the book open and he balanced it on his upright palm as she opened it and set a page.

"If only this was the original copy," she said with a low purr and pushed her tit into his grip as thumb and finger worked at the expanding nipple and her fingers played a silent melody against his thigh, "take me to London to see it someday?"

"Love to, when we're rich," he whispered. She purred and wiggled her ass.

"Read," she whispered as she backed into him. He rested his chin over her shoulder.

"The maner and fourme how to kepe a perfecte reconyng, after the order of the moste worthie and notable accompte, of debitour and creditour, set foorthe in certain tables, with a declaration thereunto belongyng, verie easie to be learned, and also profitable, not onely unto suche, that trade in the facte of marchaundise, but also unto any other estate, that will learne the same.

"Written by James Peele

"Imprinted at London by Richard Grafton, printer to the Kinges majesties, in the year of our Lord, Fifteen Fifty Three. Cum privilegio ad imprementum folion."

She pressed her ass snugly into his crotch and directed pressure against his hidden prick. He slid his hand from her right breast to the left and found a nipple already awake. She flipped pages and snuggled her head against his neck and shoulder, turned it and closed her eyes.

"Go," she said as she squeezed his thigh.

"Wares delivered to a shop, by retaile," he began and paused. She shivered against him.

"If your shoppe wherein you do retaile, be kept by your prentices, then as I thinke, it is not mete to make any of them debitour, for any ware thereunto delivered, not yet to a Journeyman, without he consent and agree, and be willing to make and enforce for your goodes to delivery. The manner howe to charge your shoppe, or your Journeyman with wares to to make the reciveour your Journeyman, open parenthesis, if he take upon him the charge, close, debitor to such wares as you delivered; otherwise, is you charge or make no person debitour, but the shoppe, then make retaile accept debitour to the wares so delivered, as in the 35 parcel."

RB took a breath as Trini purred and her left hand forced its way to arrive on his hidden prick. It followed the length and fingertips pressed at the swollen glans through the thin denim. Her purr strengthened when his fingers gave her left nipple a last squeeze and moved down a stomach that added an additional tautness at the pressure.

"It is needful at such time as you deliver any parcel to be retailed, that you measure or tell the thing or things so delivered, whereby they whole custody the retayle is in, may, open paren, without excuse, for lacke of measure weight or tale, close paren, deliver a true account thereof: And rather at such delivery, to make and lay the loss of measure, weights or tale, in pure reckoning, upon the wares it failed to deliver."

RB took a breath that caught and Trini's eyes opened and her head turned as her hand went to the book and stopped when they heard soft footfalls and a second, mysterious sound. They were in the row they faced, next to theirs. RB's right hand stopped in place, his thumb level with Trini's exposed belly button and the palm resting along the waistband of her skirt. A soft, kind voice spoke, a woman's timbre. It was at library volume, low but not a whisper.

"Oh, my, please don't stop. Your delivery is excellent, young man."

The mystery sound was a book cart, they saw it through the gaps above and below the books they faced. Pushing it was a woman, her white, short-sleeved blouse was loose, but not so loose that her impressive bust was obscured, and so far as could be seen, a gray skirt. Her hair was brown with plentiful gray and held in a bun at the back of her head.

"Hi," said Trini, her voice still husky, "we're studying the birth of accounting."

"I'm Anne," the woman said as she squatted slightly to look through an open space, "and I've been so lonely today. Summer term is just so..."

"Empty," RB said and Anne chuckled and nodded.

"Yes. Empty. But you two have just made my day. Please, do you have more to read? May I listen a bit?"

"I'm Trini and he's RB, we're taking Economics 201," her voice deepened as she spoke, "and I've always wanted to study like this, but didn't know it'd be so nice..."

"Yes, his voice is excellent," Anne said.

"My parents were traveling theatre junkies," RB said, his voice pitched to an exaggerated drawl, which he morphed to a Yankee accent, "they did amateur plays and took me and I just somehow picked up the tones."

"Okay, then, mister artiste," Trini said and hidden from Anne squeezed the cock that'd flagged slightly, it twitched at the attention and she flipped the page, "entertain us."

"And the rest," Anne said, her previous near-soprano matched Trini's husky tone, "I think that's important to set the scene. Don't be shy. The floor's all ours..."

RB wondered, but with a flash of his eyes it was obvious that the bright pink cloth with 'BUTT' on it was directly in Anne's view. He smiled as he focused again on the book.

"The money received of the retaile," he paused.

"You shall when you take moneys out of your store in the shoppe, for such wares as were sold by retaile, make the money so received, debitour to the retaile account, or else to the partie, who hath taken in charge the same, with further expense words as is in the thirty six parcel, and to know how your weight, tale, measure and gains cometh out, peruse book whereunto is written the tale."

As he read, RB slid his right hand down the front of Trini's skirt and pressed it into her crotch as she sidled her feet apart. A slow exhaled hum came from the other row, but Trini's eyes were again closed and RB's attention on the book. He pulled the skirt up and put his middle finger just into her slit and its companions along each lip. He felt warmth and dampness as his middle finger entered her to the depth of the first knuckle and moved upwards. Her hand stoked the length of his hidden cock.

"The gayne and sales therein perceived, you must confer that with your remainder or wares as it stands; and see if the sum or sumes thereof do agree with the money taken forth, as it ought to be. If your money be more, or wares lacking, put the same wares into the book of sale, as follow: and then will your money and the book of sale well agree, within very little. If your money lack of the sales, then you must have a overplus in wares, or else your retayle rekenying is not truly kept."