The University Library was a sprawling complex erected in stages over a period of time covering more than a century and a half. The oldest parts where classified as an architectural masterpiece and cultural landmark, all decked out in green painted cast iron and dark wood panels, while the newest parts, less than a decade old, tried its best to look like a space ship made of glass.
Alan Harper was nursing a glass of water in the staff break room on the second floor of one of the newer sections (construction year 1993, mostly expanded offices and closed media storage). The late May sun was roasting the grassy plot outside, turning the "space ship" into a baking greenhouse, but this section had working ventilation. It was merely uncomfortable, rather than liquefying. Alan had shed his light blazer and wore at black T-shirt rather than a long-sleeve shirt, and he made sure to always have a bottle of water handy. Still, this was his least favourite season.... but for one thing.
As he was looking out the window at the lawn there were at least a dozen clusters of students, "studying" while basking in the sun. Some of them kept in or near the shade under a few trees and were making half-hearted attempts at actually studying, but most were just laid out on blankets or directly on the grass, wearing as little as possible. None of the young women were topless (campus security would not have allowed it anyway), but many, both women and men, were clearly making the most of it.
Even now, as he was standing by the window looking out through the half-closed venetian blinds, he could see a pair of senior year young ladies on a blanket outside. One of them was wearing a white tube top and a short denim skirt. She was belly down on the blanket, facing away from Alan... and giving him an almost perfect view up the skirt. She seemed to be wearing red panties, not string, with some kind of small print. Alan sighed contentedly and sipped his water.
The girl with the red panties had long, glossy dark brown hair and that deliciously creamy complexion sometimes seen in southern European women, very pale (in spite of the sun) but still with a hint of olive. She was what Alan himself termed "curvaceous".
Her friend was a somewhat taller and skinnier redhead who wore a wide, flimsy blouse, "India trousers" and faux African wooden jewellery. Alan recognized them as two sociology students, indeed senior year, both in their early twenties. They often stayed in the library to study, and was generally both very tidy and punctual.
He checked his watch, realised that his break was almost over, sighed and went back down to the checkout desk. Thankfully, that desk was close to the doors, where a nice cooling unit made the temperature at least slightly less than sweltering. A table fan brought in by Heather, his colleague, also helped.
A while later, as Alan was finished sorting a few returned books and was left idle in the desk, desperately trying not to think too hard about the heat and failing miserably, he decided to check his private email on the desk computer. He was pleased to see that he had mail from Helen, his good friend and sometime lover from the History department.
Helen was a doctoral candidate, meaning that she was writing a doctorate thesis while also working and teaching classes. They had met and befriended each other in the library, since she often visited to check out materials for her research... and it was also there they had first made love. In the Great Hall in the historical section, as a matter of fact.
Helen was a head shorter than Alan, with a slender build, long wavy brown hair and impossibly brown eyes usually concealed behind a pair of black-rimmed glasses. She was also, it turned out, an adventurous and mischievous lover. Right now, she was also on Iceland.
This was a one-month trip, sponsored by the university. Helen was travelling as an assistant to the elderly professor who was head of the history department, and two different groups of history students. She was bound to return in a little under two weeks.
She and Alan were not a couple, as neither of them felt comfortable in a relationship, but they were good friends and sometimes it went further than that. There was an agreement between them, however, that as long as it was done openly, it was all right to play with others, and this had also happened a few times. They usually shared the details of the "play dates" later, over a glass of wine... and this tended to lead to more fun and games.
In her email, Helen started describing how the student groups' visits to different historical landmarks turned out, complete with pictures of places like Dimmuborgir and Thingvellir. She then went on to describe the social situation in the student groups, including the things she heard through the far too thin walls of the hotel they were staying at...
This led her in on a description of a visit to one of the tempered outdoor bathing pools Iceland is famous for. She had apparently found a very nice water inlet, and positioned herself in front of this to good effect. To further her enjoyment, there had been a visiting male volleyball team in the pool, who had been prancing about and generally causing Helen to fantasize a great deal.
Alan had just finished reading her descriptions of these fantasies (causing him to feel a tightness in his slacks) and was about to move on to the solitary activities these fantasies had later inspired her to engage in back in her hotel room, when he heard a timid, slightly husky voice say "Excuse me?"
He guiltily looked up to see the two sociology girls standing at the desk, watching him expectantly. It was the brunette who had spoken, and as he looked up she raised her student's ID to hand to him.
"Uh, yes?" Alan replied.
"I would like to book a study room", she stated, with her faintly latin accent.
She was talking about the private study rooms available on the next floor. Their doors were computer-controlled and were booked at the desk.
"Ah, of course, one moment..." Alan said, and reached for her ID. As he did so, he could not help but notice that the cooling unit by the door had worked its magic on the girl, and her nipples were clearly standing attention under her white tube top.
He tried to hide an amused smile, but she noticed and looked down. Alan quickly looked away but he saw her blush slightly. He pretended not to notice, and entered her reservation into the computer.
"There, room 6. Three hours. Need anything else?"
She looked down and mumbled a "no, thanks", and as they walked away Alan could hear the red-headed girl giggle.
Later, when he had finished reading the email from Helen (while trying to keep a better eye on his surroundings), Alan leaned back in his office chair to sweep his attention through the library. The checkout desk was located in a glass atrium, with stacks and reading tables spread out around it. One floor up were more stacks and study tables, but the sides of the atrium was where the locked study rooms were located. They all had a glass wall facing the atrium, and another facing the floor. The intersecting walls were insulated particleboard, to keep the study groups from disturbing each other.
Room 6 was almost right in front of him, slightly to the right. It was actually the only one occupied at the moment, although there were other students defying the stifling heat in an attempt to cram those last few pages, scattered throughout the building. From time to time he looked up at the two girls, who seemed to be engrossed in their work. They each had a netbook, taking advantage of the complimentary wifi in the library. He could see them fanning themselves with loose papers from time to time, the heat of the room taking its toll.
As he looked up at the girls the redhead (who he suddenly remembered was called Sara Sorensen) waved the latin brunette over to look at her computer screen. The girl got up and slipped around the table, with her back to the glass wall. As she bent down to look at the screen, she nearly pressed her curvy behind against the glass, presenting Alan yet again with a lovely view. He glanced around to check if anybody was watching, and then settled back slightly in the chair to be able to stealthily enjoy the scenery better.
When she straightened up to get back to her seat, Alan quickly looked down at his screen... but perhaps not quickly enough, for when he next looked up he could see her glancing down at him, blushing slightly. Her friend, Sara, seemed entirely oblivious of what had transpired. Alan smiled to himself.
Over the next hour he kept looking up now and then, hoping to catch another glimpse, and slowly started noticing a difference in the girl's behaviour. At first she seemed a bit embarrassed about her slip, but after a little while Alan caught her smiling as she glanced in his direction, and once or twice she stretched languidly in her seat just as Alan looked up - effectively displaying her fine figure in a seemingly innocent but enormously attractive way.
When the hour was up, Alan was relieved in the desk by his colleague Heather, an plump elderly librarian complete with hair bun and horn-rimmed glasses. As he walked back to the break room he got the impression that the brunette's eyes followed him across the atrium, but he didn't dare look up.
He spent another hour in his cramped office, trying to concentrate on sorting out his mail, but eventually gave up. He idled until it was time for another break, and then went out to shelve books. He was disappointed to see room 6 empty, but considering the temperature it was hardly surprising.
Eventually it was closing time, and Heather had to leave early so Alan was left alone to lock up. Having waved the last, weary and sweaty student goodbye, he flicked the switch that locked the sliding glass doors and prepared to lock the mechanical lock, when a figure appeared and knocked frantically at the glass. He looked up and saw, to his surprise, the brunette from earlier standing outside, waving and knocking to be let in. She seemed on the verge of tears. Frowning, he flicked the switch again and let her in.
"Oh, thank god you were still here!" she gushed, her accent a bit more pronounced than earlier. "I think I left my computer in the study room!"
"Oh, OK", Alan replied. We'll go up and have a look, just let me lock up first. I'll let you out the back afterwards".
The young woman beamed at him and then nearly jumped with excitement as Alan finished locking the door and led the way to the next floor.
Alan used his RFID key fob to unlock the glass door to room 6, and they immediately saw the tiny computer case leaning on the wall, slightly obscured by the waste basket. The girl, who had introduced herself as Maria Martinez, squealed with joy as she pushed past him to grab the computer. As she bent down to pick it up, Alan could see her denim skirt stretching across her rear in a most appealing way.
"Thank you, thank you!" she cried and threw her arms around Alan in a tight hug. He was slightly flustered, but hesitantly returned the hug, patting her back in what he hoped was a comforting manner. She released him, seemed to remember the day's earlier events, and blushed slightly.
"Eh..." she stammered, while Alan regarded her with an amused smile, "I was really worried that I'd lost it. All my school papers and most of my master's thesis is on it, and..." She looked down.
"You have no backup? Really?" Alan asked in surprise. That sounds... risky. Look, why don't you come by tomorrow after lunch and I'll show you a couple of free online backup services? Unless..."
She looked up at him questioningly. "Unless what?"
"Unless you are a girl who likes to take risks?" he said with a wink. She blushed and dropped her gaze again.
"Well," he said, deliberately breaking the moment, "you do as you please, the offer stands. Now, let's see about finding our way out of here, shall we?" With that, he turned and started walking back towards the back exit. Maria followed behind him.
As they walked through the darkened and cooling library she started rambling nervously about her classes and the subject of her thesis (Gender Theory applied to 70's trucker movies), while Alan interjected mild curiosity at the appropriate places, to let her regain her composure. He was really starting to enjoy this.
They reached the door to the staff area, and he ushered her through it and flicked the switches that turned off the lights, leaving only the dim overnight lights. Maria stayed silent as they walked through the darkened offices, turning off lights here and there. They stopped at Alan's office, and there she said:
"You were watching me, before... weren't you?"
Alan turned and looked at her. "Watching?"
"Yes... in the study room." She blushed again, but didn't look down.
Alan considered this. "Yes, I was" he finally replied.
"Did you... did you like it?"
A smile crept across his face. "Yes, I did." He straightened his back and looked her right in the eyes. "And so did you. Didn't you, Maria?"
This time she lowered her eyes. "Yes..." she mumbled.
Alan made a decision. He took two quick steps towards her, causing her to back up against the wall, and put his hand on the wall next to her head. He leaned in close, and said in a slightly mocking tone:
"What else do you like, Maria?" The use of her name seemed to electrify her, and she looked up into his eyes. She worked her mouth as if trying to say something, but no words came.
Alan moved closer, crowding her until they were almost touching. He gently put his free right hand on her hip, on the cloth of her skirt, carefully avoiding any skin. He could smell her now, the smell of her skin mingling with what he assumed was some herbal shampoo.
"Do you like this?" he asked.
"Y... yes," she stammered.
He leaned in further, bowing his head to put his mouth level with her soft throat just below her left ear, and whispered again:
"Do you like this?" She swallowed nervously and replied in a whisper: "Yes".
He took the left hand from the wall, placed it on the back of her neck, let his right hand slip up across her back and kissed her on the throat. She gasped and put her arms around him.
"And did you like that?" he asked her when the kiss ended. She didn't reply in words, but instead reached up, grabbed his head and planted her lips on his in a kiss that made the hairs on his neck stand up. His slacks were by now forming a tent, something that would be obvious to Maria as she pressed her body passionately against his.
"I guess you did," he gasped when she had to come up for air. She stared at him, almost in shock, before kissing him again. This time he took the opportunity to move his hands and grab her denim-covered buttocks, which earned him a slight moan. She released his head and started pawing at him, until her hands found purchase and began pulling off his T-shirt.
Alan is by no means athletic, but since he usually rides a bike to work, tries not to eat too unhealthily and takes weekly Pilates classes he is a fair deal less unfit than one might expect from a librarian in his mid to late thirties. Maria seemed to like what her hands found under his T-shirt, and Alan wanted to return the favour. He slid his hands away from her bum, to start fondling her breasts through the white tube top. She chuckled appreciatively, her lips still locked with his. Their tongues wrestled eagerly.
Maria was still pressed up against the wall next to the door to Alan's office, her hands all over his chest as he groped hers. He decided to turn things up a notch and simply pulled her tube top down, exposing her breasts. She began to pull more insistently at his T-shirt, so he broke off the kiss and leaned back, allowing her to pull it over his head.
In doing so, he was finally able to see her breasts, and they were indeed as lovely as they felt. Possibly a large B-cup, they were of the same creamy hue as the rest of her, except for the areolae which were chocolate brown. Alan thought they looked absolutely delicious, and so as soon as he was rid of the T-shirt he bent down and wrapped his lips around one of them. Maria leaned her head back at the wall and sighed.
Alan continued sucking and fondling Maria's breasts for a while, something she seemed to like so much that she stopped running her hands over him and simply grabbed the back of his head, leaned back and enjoyed the treatment. She moaned with pleasure.
Caressing her smooth skin down her sides, Alan reached for the lower hem of her skirt and then pulled it up above her waist. At the same time he bit her nipple very lightly, earning a hoarse "Yes!" and a tighter grasp on his head. Still working his hands, he slipped off her panties and then grabbed her buttock with one hand, covering her Venus mound with the other. She turned out to be very wet already.
"Aaah, please... yes!" she moaned as he started massaging her wet cunt, and angled her hips for him to better reach her. While he fingered her he moved his mouth from her breasts to kiss her throat, and then lock lips with her again. She emitted small squeaks of pleasure as they kissed. When he finally slipped a finger inside her, she moaned loudly and let go of his head to start working on his fly. He pulled his head back.
"Wait, not here! Come," he said, and started pulling her towards another door. He did not let go of her sopping cunt, and she had to stagger to follow him.
They now found themselves in the staff kitchen. No lights were on, and it was only illuminated by the remaining light from the setting sun outside and from the light on his desk, spilling in through the door. Alan pushed Maria down onto the couch standing by one wall, and quickly undid his belt and fly. Her eyes blazed with arousal, and he didn't even bother to step out of his trousers, just got down on his knees in front of her.
He leaned down and licked a few times across her cunt, tasting her juices and feeling the sensation of her trimmed pubic hair, but she moaned:
"No, I want you in me! Please..."
Smiling, Alan straightened up, pulled down a cushion from the couch to rest his knees on, and dropped his briefs. His cock, finally released from its confinement, sprang out to greet Maria's hungry gaze. She reached for it, and started fondling it.
While she busied herself with this, Alan extricated a small plastic pod from his slacks, and from this he produced a condom. He rolled it on as quickly as he could, and moved into position, lifting up her legs on his shoulders.
"Please, give it to me, please..." Maria begged, and Alan replied with a smirk:
"Well, since you ask so nicely..."
When he finally plunged into her, Maria cried out wordlessly, and her cunt grabbed him like a tight fist in a wet velvet glove. Alan started thrusting into her, slowly at fist but she urged him to go faster, so he did. He put his hands on the couch seat, leaned over her and pumped her hard until she came, screaming loudly. He still had a bit to go, so he slowed down and let her recover a bit, but when he moved to increase speed again she stopped him.
"No, wait..." she panted. "I'll show you..." She smiled mischievously at him, and pushed him away.
She stood up, a bit shakily, and motioned him to sit down on the couch. He raised a questioning eyebrow, but obeyed. She moved into position, and when he understood what she wanted he chuckled appreciatively.
She backed up towards him, her legs on either side of his knees, and lowered herself onto him (presenting him with a lovely view of her bottom as she did so). She guided him into herself with one hand, the other parting her labia. When the head of his cock was inside her, she put her hands on his knees and slowly slid her cunt down onto it with a sigh. She rested there for a moment, squeezing him from within, and he took the opportunity to put his hand on her buttocks.