Late Eve at the University Library

Written for a fan, who graciously allowed me to share with others...

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Click Here to listen: .mp3 format or .ogg format. (12.5 min/mp3)

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It's late and I've grown weary of the day. "Why oh why did I say I'd do late night cleanup for Hector?" I ask myself. Normally the cleaning crew is here with me when I close up on a Friday night, but Hector gave his team the weekend off for the holiday and then got a sexy invitation himself. He's such a good guy; I had to help him out. What if it's destiny calling at his door?

So I'm here watching the last set of kids.i say kids but they're in their 20s...watching the last set of kids leave the library. I did a round about 30 minutes ago and this group was the last in the library. Nobody else has come in.

They wave as they depart and I pick up the key ring from behind the information desk. I lock the doors and turn out the front entrance lights. Funny how dark it gets without lights in this big place.

I've been cleaning here and there for the last few hours just so I wouldn't have a huge job when I closed up. Security will be checking in later and I want to be finished by then. The south wing is done already, so I head for the north end of the library.

I have to admit I love this side of the library most. Many of the worktables are here and I enjoy seeing the students huddled up doing calculations or substantiating arguments. Today was pretty light though. I did catch the eye of one young man. Mmmmn tasty enough to suck, that's for sure.

That's you in case you didn't know. I made a pretty obvious effort to make you uncomfortable around your friends, leaning far over the table to pick up books-practically pushing your face into my cleavage. Your pals laughed and smacked you on the back as I moved down the row. I heard you say, "If I could fuck that, I wouldn't bother with the co-eds."

Now in the half-light I push bags from the small cans into a large bag. Who knew the place had so many trash cans? I've covered the upper floors, so now it's just the deep stacks. My mind wanders to those earlier thoughts. Your sassy smile. Your friends didn't catch it, but I felt your fingers touch the back of my knee as I walked by. Funny how such a simple thing-a touch, could make clench deep inside. "Too many days without," I tell myself.

I hear the rustling of papers and the familiar scribble, scribble, scribble. No, it can't be. Everyone is gone. But there you are. No longer at the work tables or I would have seen you earlier. You're curled up in the stacks, a paper pressed in a book, writing away. I can hear the tinny beat of music escaping your headphones. You haven't a clue that I'm there. I bet you haven't a clue what time it is. You seem so engrossed in your writing.

"Ahem," I fake a loud cough. Nothing. I do it again, letting my ring clink against the metal shelves. Still nothing. I move close to your body, sitting with your back to the books. I'm nearly touching your school jacket with my calf, but you still don't notice me. But I notice you.

Your hands-strong for such a young man. Not weathered. Maybe a little roughened from the sports you play. Mmm how would those rough fingertips feel breezing across my hard nipples? You cast floppy hair back and finally notice me. I let my eyes wander over you; really take you in. strong thighs, tight in those jeans, yet you wear the flip-flops of a surfer. I can see the silver of a necklace tickle the long fringes at the nape of your neck where my lips would love to be.

When I make it to your eyes, you look dead serious and straight into my eyes. Those aren't the playful eyes I saw earlier. They are the eyes of a predator assessing his prey. I pull in a quick breath and turn quickly to walk away, but slam straight into 18th century world history. Several lightweight books flutter to the floor. One heavy one seeks out and finds my toe. I yelp.

"Ouch! That looks bad," you say and you kneel before me, sliding my foot on your knee as you slip the heel off. The tinny noise from your headphones is louder now that they rest on the desk.

"Your music," I say. I cannot look at your ministrations to my foot or I'll swoon I am sure.

You laugh. "It helps me study."

You look up into my eyes and I'm drawn to look, and then slide inside them. Your fingertips massage my ankle.

"Nothing broken, it seems."

I can feel my breathing shorten, but I am helpless to do anything. I cannot move, I cannot speak. I can only look into your eyes. I do feel, however, you fingers sliding up my leg every so softly. You stop several times on the way up my calf. Not exactly hesitating, but waiting for my tacit approval. I must be giving it, but I'm not sure how.

You break our gaze and stop your movement when your fingers reach my skirt, but you don't let go of my thigh. I reach out and press my fingers over yours, then guide them under the edge of my skirt until the tips hit wet pay dirt.

We both let out a breath at the same moment. A combination of sign and moan I think. You press your face against the fabric on my thigh as your fingers slide between my moist lips and migrate from tip to tail and back again. My hands move to your shoulders. I hang on as your motions make jelly of my legs.

"Should I stop?" You ask softly, looking around me for any signs of other humans.

"OH, god don't you dare," I say. "We're alone in the library."

And with a tiny flick of your finger, I jerk, my orgasm taking me by surprise. Instead of stopping to let me ride the wave, your fingers gain speed. I grip your shoulders tight and the orgasm grows to a series of hard pulses. Liquid slides out of me and down your fingers.

You slide out of my cunt and bring your sticky fingers to your lips. You suck on one finger, groaning in delight and side the other finger across your lips.

When you stand you pull me into a deep kiss, forcing me to taste myself on your mouth. When you let go I am panting.

"Should I go?" You ask softly. "Tell me now because five seconds from now, I will not stop and you will beg for mercy."

My eyes grow big and I shake my head. I pull you back into the kiss, sliding my tongue inside your mouth and my hands down your body to the hard cock between your legs.

This time I groan. You push me back to your desk and lift me slightly so my ass slides across your papers. Again you kneel and pull my knees over your shoulders. Your thumbs press against my outer lips and push them apart. My sticky cunt is laid open before you.

We look at each other and your smile grows to cover your whole face. And then you are no longer looking at me. Your tongue is sliding into me...stroking me...fucking me.

"Oh god," I whisper and my head rocks back and I grip the edge of the desk. I can feel your thumbs sliding up and teasing the edges of my clit as your tongue plows into my pussy. My body undulates in rhythm, try to speed up your fucking tongue, but you press against my inner walls and make me practically squeal. I grab you hair and pull you deeper into my juicy nectar.

I pant and writhe and pull at you, but you do not change your speed, only your direction and intensity. When I can take no more, you somehow sense it and forcefully scrape your thumbs across my clit, sending me into an orgasm that has me bouncing off the desk. Pulses of my squirting juice cover your face and I feel your teeth suck on my lips, devouring my cum.

You let go of me and move to the chair next to the desk. You drape your body across the chair with not a care in the world, crooking your finger at me and fiddling with the end of your belt.

I slip off the desk and take no leave, grabbing your cock hard. You grip my upper arms in reaction and our eyes devour each other just inches apart.

"You better be working to free that cock woman, or I'll be taking what's mine."

I stay standing but bend over at the hips so my ass brushes against the remaining papers. Your hand reaches and squeezes my ass and my fingers pull your belt and unzip you in one quick move. I reach down at tug at your clothes from the bottom. No boxers at all. Your thick, hard cock bounces free and I let a little gasp escape my lips.

"You wanna fuck that?" You smile at me. You let go of my arms and I am free to make my choice. I slide my skirt up to my hips and straddle you. I let my dripping pussy slide over your cock head, getting it acclimated to my heat and sticky nature.

I can feel it pulsate between my lips and surge a little as I let it cross the entrance to my hole. I stop and pull away. You slide your hands under my thighs and take away my control, making my pussy open wider and letting your swelling cock penetrate me.

"Oh, yes! Fuck me!" I whisper so loudly it echoes across the stacks. You force your cock up into my cunt. It slides easily, washing itself in cum juice, stretching my pussy lips wider to accommodate your girth.

Your arms lift me and drop me, impaling me on your hard shaft. It's like all the air is forced out of my lungs as you thrust into me.

Over and over you do this until you finally let my feet touch the floor. I take over and stroke over you sock with my pussy, feeling it swell and ready itself to release yet again.

I press my lips hard against your to stifle the scream as I cum hard, gushing over your cock and balls. You grip my ass tight and I can feel you surge your load into me. You are sill thrusting as your cock's pulse slows.

I slowly slide off of you and push my skirt back down to its original placement.

"God, I love the 17th century," you say.

"You definitely need a remedial course," I kiss your lips softly.

"This is the 18th century."

I adjust my glasses and tighten my bun that has half cascaded hair down my back.

"Yes, ma'am," you say.

I frown. "If you call me ma'am again, there will be no study time for you in this library." I wink.

We both laugh.