Librarian Finds Long Overdue Love Ch. 09

Single, middle-aged and bespectacled Angelina Lione may look the part of the prim, proper and sexually repressed, buttoned-up librarian, but she's most definitely NOT your father's librarian - at least not in private. Blessed with a ravenous and unquenchable sexual appetite, Angelina navigates the Dewey Decimal System as deftly as she negotiates about her lovers' hearts, minds and bodies. Her orgasms, in fact, are so intense that she oftentimes faints during the throes of passion.

High fashion and high maintenance, Angelina always models the latest designer threads - accentuated by one of her dozen pairs of high-heeled dress boots. Her sophisticated look even extends to smoking accessories. The haughty diva wouldn't dream of smoking a cigarette if it wasn't filtered through her long, black holder. More of a cigarette holder sucker and stroker than a smoker, however, Angelina seductively works the black shaft with her mouth, tongue and fingers as if it was a penis proxy; the effect that playing with the long, stiff holder has on would-be lovers is like snake charming. Under the sexy siren's magic spell, they're entirely at her mercy; powerless to resist the temptation to pleasure her - as if they really would.

Romantic suitor Tom Bailey has been in love with Angelina since he was a 13-year-old student of hers, drawn to the librarian's sexy boots and seductive smoking. Over the past 9 years, his feelings - like his fetishes - for the femme fatale have only grown stronger. But in order to win Angelina's hand, he'll have to fight off the advances of Harry Seymour, his former principal, and the man who she once carried on a torrid affair with.

It's youth, vitality and inexperience vs. age, knowledge and history. At stake is the love and lust of the feral Angelina, a woman whose libido knows no bounds.

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The message on Tom and his roommates' answering machine was brief and to the point:

"Thomas, darling, if you're free around noon, why don't you drop by my house."

For the lovestruck young man, who'd been awake most of the night worrying about how his girlfriend's dinner date with her former flame was going - and who'd been out for a walk in a futile attempt to burn off his nervous energy when she called at 9:00 a.m. the next morning - Angelina's short message, played back when he returned to the apartment some 90 minutes later, was just the news he wanted to hear.

After a hot shower and a quick bowl of cereal eaten over the kitchen sink, Tom climbed in his red 1982 Volkswagen Scirocco and motored northwest on the New Jersey Parkway toward Angelina's house. About 40 minutes later - at 11:58 a.m. - he pulled into his girlfriend's driveway and parked behind an old brown Cadillac.

So anxious was he to see Angelina, that as Tom walked briskly up the walkway to her house, he neglected to consider the possibility that the Caddie may belong to Harry, her former lover.

Ringing the doorbell, Tom felt as anxious and excited as he had two weeks prior when he summonded up the courage to show up at his old middle school and break the ice with Angelina, his grade school crush.

"Angelina, oh, man, it's good to see you!" Tom blurted out seconds later after his girlfriend opened the door, practically bear hugging the woman off the floor in excitement.

"Thomas, yes, it's good to see you, too," Angelina answered in a decidely more restrained tone.

"I just want to take you upstairs and make love to you for hours."

"Well, darling, that sounds delightful, but let's have a talk first, ok?"

Angelina slipped from her boyfriend's embrace and retreated to the living room.

"Yeah, sure, I want to hear all about last night," Tom said, as he followed her into the room. "I wish I'd seen Principal Seymour's face when you told him once and for all..."

Entering the living room, Tom saw Harry sitting on the sofa and froze in his tracks, unable to finish his sentence.

"I believe you two know each other," Angelina said, by way of an introduction.

"Hello, young man," Harry said, rising from the sofa and offering Tom his hand. "How many years has it been since you graduated from 8th grade? Three."

Too stunned by the sight of his former principal in his girlfriend's house, Tom could offer no glib comeback to the insult to his youth, just a weak hand to shake.

"Thomas, please sit," Angelina said, motioning her boyfriend to the loveseat next to the sofa.

Tom sat gingerly on the furniture, while Angelina did likewise on the matching gray chair across from the men. Crossing her brown, knee-high, high-healed booted legs zipped over a tan pair of tight pants, she pulled the sleeves of her auburn turtleneck halfway up her elbows, and reached down to the coffee table in front of her. Pressing the button that opened her mahogony cigarette case, she extraced a Virginia Slim and proceeded to tenderly screw it into the long black cigarette holder resting next to it. Quickly, Tom dug in his pocket for the bic lighter he bought recently, while Harry scrambled to the table to grab Angelina's gold cigarette lighter. Igniting their respective flames, the men held them both out toward the woman, their fires intersecting to form one big blaze. Angelina gave a sly smile at their obvious attempt to compete for her affections, placed the black shaft of the holder in her mouth and met their lights in the middle.

"Thank you both for coming over today," Angelina said, after taking a puff and moving her mouth to the right to enjoy a long exhale away from her guests, that seemed to relax her. "Thomas, I'm sure you're wondering what Harry's doing here."

"You had sex with him last night, didn't you?!" Tom blurted out, accusatorily, finally finding his voice, while he was losing his cool. "I knew it. I just knew it."

Rookie mistaaaake, Harry thought, trying to hide his pleasure from watching the young man become emotionally unglued.

"Thomas, that's really none of your business," Angelina scolded him, in her best teacher's voice. "What Harry and I may or may not have done last night, is a private affair between he and I. Now, please, I was hoping we could conduct a civil, adult conversation, OK?"

I will say that we enjoyed a very intimate breakthrough in our friendship."

"Friendship?! Tom exclaimed, still unable to control his outbursts. "Twenty-four hours ago, you were going to tell him to shove off, because we're a romantic couple. Now, you're his friend?! And I think this most definitely IS my business. You're my girlfriend, remember?"

"That's what makes this meeting so conflicting for me."

The sexy librarian paused to collect her thoughts, the smoke from the cigarette holder she held between the fingers of her red-nail polished righthand wafted lazily behind her and out the open window into the crisp autumn air.

"Thomas, these past two weeks have been some of the most fun I've ever had," she finally continued. "We've become so close. The completely uninhibited times we've shared have reminded me what my single life used to be like. You've made me feel beautiful and desirable again. I feel ten years younger. I still can't believe that a handsome young man like you actually wants me. That's such an incredible turn-on.

"You have to believe me, I really did go to dinner last night with the intention of dismissing Harry from my life forever, but then out of the blue he proved his love for me - something I'd always doubted.

"Thomas, what we have is a fortnite of mainly a physical relationship. Harry and I have a six year romantic history together. I can't turn my back on that. And now that his wife has passed, he and I have the chance to finally be in the real relationship I always wanted us to be in, where there's no third wheel."

"Except for me," Tom interrupted. "I'm obviously the third wheel, right?"

"No, not at all. That's not what I meant. I was referring to his wife. Listen, I've thought all morning about this, and I've reached a decision."

Anticipating bad news, Tom's heart felt like it was about to burst through his chest.

Angelina paused, slipped her cigarette holder between her parted red lips, took a soft pull and blew out another long, cleansing exhale.

"The decision I've reached... is that I can't make a decision," Angelina said. "You both have so many pros - and even cons - that I can't possibly choose one over the other, at this time. So, if the two of you are amenable, I'd like to date both of you for awhile. I need more time to figure out who I want to be with for the long term."

Silence now filled the sunlit room. Tom sensed that Angelina had already discussed this "arrangement" with Harry before he arrived - probably in bed after they'd had sex. The thought of his girlfriend making love to another man sickened and disgusted him.

"Angelina," Tom said, rising to his feet and fighting to keep his composure. "Thanks for the offer, but I told you once before that I could never share you with another man. I'm sorry, but I won't be participating in this little 'fuck-off'challenge of yours."

"Thomas, please. That's an inaccurate and uncouth way to phrase this," Angelina objected.

"But you said we would be a couple."

"You're not making this easier, my dear. I know you weren't expecting competition for my affections. Frankly, neither was I, but sometimes life takes unexpected turns."

On the verge of tears, the proud young man turned and walked out of the house. Speeding away in his car, Tom began to lament the end of his brief but intense and passionate relationship with the woman he'd been obsessed with for eight years. In just two weeks they'd made love over three-dozen times, but it never got stale or old to him. Sex with Angelina was unreal - somehow even better than the fantasy sex life he'd enjoyed with her through the years. She seemed to live in her fashion boots and worked a cigarette holder in her mouth in a most suggestive manner, feeding his raging fetishes. On Angelina, those seemingly benign inanimate objects came alive to him and never failed to arouse him. Now, thinking about the sex he'd just thrown away, suddenly brought on an overwhelming sense of dread and despair.

Spotting a gas station up ahead on the highway, Tom flipped his right blinker. Moments later he pulled into the station. Hopping out of the car, he ran to the outdoor telephone booth, dropped a quarter into the slot and feverishly pressed the numbers on the keypad.

"Hello!" he called out, two rings later when he heard the voice on the other end of the phone. "I acted impulsively; I didn't think this through. I'm good with your terms."

"Thomas, Darling," Angelina said pretentiously. "I'm so glad you called. I knew you'd come to your senses. But Harry and I were just on our way out to lunch, can we talk later?"

"Sure, I'll call you tonight."

"Oh, we're going to dinner, too. Why don't you call me tomorrow and we'll see when you can fit on my social calendar. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Ciao, my darling."

Angelina hung up the phone. Slow to react, Tom only followed suit a few seconds later when he heard the dialtone.

What did I just do? he thought, trudging back to his car in shame. Do I really have a future with this woman? What's gonna happen when she meets my friends? The moment she takes her cigarette holder out and asks for a light, they're gonna crack up. It'll be embarrasing. They'll never let me hear the end of it. And I don't even want to think about how my folks would react if they ever met her. My mom's the same age as Angelina. They'll freak at the age difference.

And then there's Angelina's family. Rocco scares the crap out of me.

And what about long-term compatibility. She seems to be getting phonier and more stuck-up by the day. I'm not even sure I like her, let alone love her. She can be such a bitch sometimes. Still, when she acts like that it somehow makes me want her even more. I just CAN'T quit her! I think I'm addicted to the sex. Geez, what's wrong with me? Guess I'm no different than any of the other saps she's juggled, who were willing to put up with her attitude and the humiliation of having competition, so they could keep fucking her.

And now I'm going to get sloppy seconds behind an old man. Knowing how horny she always is, who knows how many times they'll do it, before I get to take her out again. But I don't care. I'll settle for sloppy twenty-seconds, just to have another chance to make love to that woman.