Librarian Finds Long Overdue Love Ch. 26

"Hmmm...when you put it all that way, maybe you're right. Maybe nothing more actually DID happen."

"Yeah, I'm not saying this to make you feel better. But short of putting Tony under hypnosis or something, I think this is the closest we'll come to knowing the truth."

Angelina's mood turned 180 degrees.

"This is the best scenario I could hope for,' the excited woman said into the phone. "It still makes my skin crawl knowing that I was the remotest bit sexually intimate with my own nephew, but it could have been worse. Much worse."

"Yup," Lisa said. "Feel better now?"

"Much better. Thank you, darrhhling. And thank Richie for asking on my behalf."

"I will. And then I think he'd never like to think about or discuss this again."

"Neither do I, darrhhling. Neither do I. Lets just keep this our little family secret. Well, listen, thank you so much, but I've got to run. With this being my last day in the office before the wedding -- and calling out sick the past three days because I was so worried about this -- I've got to finish this paperwork. Thomas is meeting me at the school soon, then we'll go out to dinner in town. I've had not appetitie since Saturday. With this burden off my shoulders, I feel like I could eat the whole menu."

"OK. But don't eat too much or you won't be able to fit into that beautiful wedding gown you dieted so much to get into."

"I won't. See you tomorrow at the rehearsal."

Angelina hung up the phone and let out an audible sigh of relief that was so loud that she didn't hear the first knock on her office door. It certainly appeared as if Anthony hadn't consummated his adolescent AILF (aunt I'd like to fuck) fantasy after all.

"Come in," she said, hearing the second knock a few seconds later.

The door swung open and a familiar figure walked in. Angelina had no sooner dodged one sexual bullet when another one had appeared on her doorstep.

"Hello, Angelina," said Harry Seymour, taking two steps into her office before stopping.

"Harry?" the stunned librarian asked, recognizing her ex-lover and looking like she'd seen a ghost. "Wha...wha...what are you doing here?"

"Glad I caught you before you left. I wanted to see you before your wedding."

"How did you know I'd be here?"

"Well, I dropped by right after school every day this week, but each time Mrs. Allums told me you were out sick. Then I finally got smart and asked her to call me today and save me a trip, if you didn't come in. That was very courteous of her."

'Courteous,' wasn't exactly the word Angelina would have chosen, a bit dismayed at not receiving advance notice of her old beau's visit.

"I know you're probably getting things in order before you take off for your wedding and honeymoon, so I won't keep you long. May I sit?"

Harry didn't wait for an answer before taking a seat on the end of the sofa facing Angelina's desk. The librarian moved tentatively from behind the desk and came out front, sitting in a chair across from the sofa.

"You look fantastic, Angelina," Harry said, trying to make small talk after some 10 or so seconds of silence had passed. "You're going to make a beautiful bride."

"Thank you, Harry," Angelina said, blushing as she crossed her left black-booted leg over right and pulled down the matching color pencil skirt that rode up her thigh.

"I can't believe it's been like 18 months since we last saw each other. But I wanted to see you again before you became a married woman."

Angelina felt her heart race, dreading what Harry would say or do next, as she reached her left hand down to her foot and nervously played with the spiked heel of her leather boot. Since her engagement, the cougar had miserably failed one commitment test by blowing a male stripper and making out with a man she picked up on her bachelorette party night -- nevermind seducing her nephew in a case of mistaken identity. Now, she faced her most serious test yet -- a fidelity final exam that she had not prepared for. Angelina always had a weakness for the rotund little old man, her ex-principal and longtime lover and two days out from her wedding feared she wouldn't be able to resist, if he tried to seduce her.

"I wanted to wish you well in your life with Tim," the man continued.

"Tom," Angelina corrected him.

"Right. I also wanted to let you know there's no hard feelings on my part. You gave me more chances than I deserved, and I blew every one of them. I was lucky I got one more chance when I became a widow. He beat me out fair and square. Truth is, you deserve someone younger, not an old man who can't keep up with you."

"Thank you, Harry darrhhling," Angelina said, breathing easier now. "That means a lot to me to hear you say that. And you're not old. You're still the most vibrant man I ever dated."

"You're too kind. Well, that's really all I had to say."

Harry rose from the sofa, Angelina followed from her chair.

"Goodbye, Angelina," he said, extending a hand to his former lover.

Angelina ignored the gesture, and instead flung her arms around Harry, giving him a benign hug. Harry's body stiffened to the embrace, more like a teenage boy on his first date than a man who had made love to this MILF-like character hundreds, if not thousands of times over the course of their affair.

"If your husband doesn't mind, I hope you and I can be friends and maybe have lunch every once in a while," he said, when Angelina released him from the hug.

"I think that would be lovely, darrhhling," she said, tears welling in her large brown eyes.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I got you a little wedding present."

Harry reached into the breast pocket of his blue blazer and produced a small gift-wrapped box.

"Oh, darrhhling, you didn't have to do that," Angelina said, pressing her left hand to her chest. "I'm so touched."

Harry handed the box to Angelina.

"Open it," he said.

Angelina tore into the present and looked at its contents with open-mouthed awe.

"If you don't like it, I can return it," Harry said.

"I love it," she gasped, grasping the ends of the 10-inch long aluminum cigarette holder in both hands.

"I didn't think you had this style of holder."

"I don't. It's so chic. And there's even an inscription: 'To A. The model of elegance and class. Love, H.'"

"Oh, that's lovely."

"I also had them install an extra filter in it. I figured, if you're going to smoke, at least this will be healthier for you."

"How thoughtful! I can't wait to try it."

Angelina reached behind her, pressed a button on the mahoghany cigarette box on her desk and withdrew a Misty 120. Excitedly, she screwed the cigarette into her new holder, held it out front and admired the complete smoking package.

"It's absolutely exquisite!" she gushed over the latest addition to her status symbol smoking accessories. "Fabulous!"

Harry picked up the gold cigarette lighter on her desk.

"Light?" he asked, flipping open the cap to produce a small flame.

Angelina put the small black tip of the holder in her mouth and accepted the light. Drawing the smoke deep into her lungs, she turned to her right, arched her neck and exhaled a stream of smoke to the ceiling.

"It's wonderful," she said, whisps of smoke coming from her mouth with every syllable.

"I'm glad you like it," Harry said, marveling at his ex-mistresses' sexy profile -- the firm breasts that belied her 53 years, rock-hard ass that pressed tightly against her pencil skirt and a previously overlooked turn-on. "Did you used to smoke another kind of cigarette?"

"Why, yes I did. Just this week, in fact, I switched from Virginia Slims to Misty 120s."

"I thought so. They look different. Still long, but a bit fatter."

"Yes. I don't feel like I'm smoking an empty straw any more. And, most importantly, they're still ultra feminine."

Angelina slipped the Batin Gold colored holder back into her mouth and took another pull. Over the course of their years-long affair, Harry merely tolerated his lover's smoking habit, but now seeing Angelina raise her new holder -- complete with a long, substantial-sized cigarette -- to her full luscious lips, he finally began to appreciate what it meant to see a beautiful woman smoke. Juxtaposed with his well-established boot fetish -- which Angelina had been only too happy to indulge when they were together -- and Harry was in fixation heaven.

"Every time I put this holder in my mouth, I'll think of you, Harry darrhhling," she said, after exhaling another perfectly shaped cone of smoke.

And with that seemingly benign expression of gratitude, a raging smoking fetish was born to the 72-year-old man.

"You know, I took up cigars again," Harry said, an erection building in his pants, as he cozied up to the sexy cigarette-holder-smoking-booted school librarian and produced a Montecristo from the inside breast pocket of his blazer.

"You did?" Angelina asked, uneasily, eyeing the expensive cigar as if hypnotized by it. "I thought you had to give them up."

"I figured, you only live once. Do you still get turned on by a man who smokes cigars?"

"Oh, it was never THAT big of a turn on."

"You're downplaying it, Angelina. I recall you getting so hot and bothered when I smoked that sometimes you'd pass right out."

The memory prompted Angelina's pussy to sweat secretions, as she began to lose her battle to remain cool and in control against the intense sexual reaction prompted by her powerful cigar smoking fetish.

"When we meet for lunch, I'll have to bring one to smoke," Harry said, inching closer to her.

"You know, I don't think getting together is such a good idea afterall," Angelina said, backing away from her ex-lover. "Thomas is very jealous."

"He doesn't have to know. And he doesn't have to know if we get together for more private moments either."

"I think it's time for you to go," she said, retreating to behind her desk.

"Oh, don't be like that, Angelina," Harry said, slowly advancing on her with lust in his eyes. "You know there's no man who can pleasure you like I can."

"Stay away from me, Harry."

Angelina continued to back away, but the lecherous old man didn't stop, chasing the woman like a scene from Benny Hill, minus the theme song. Once around the room they went. Twice. Then three times, with the younger, healthier Angelina maintaining a safe distance from Harry. On their fourth trip, a visibly winded Harry began to slow and finally stopped running.

"Okay...okay, you win, I give up," he said, doubling over and struggling to catch his breath. "I'm done."

"Harry, are you okay?" Angelina asked, walking over to him and putting her hand on his shoulder, fearing the older man may be having a cardiac incident.

"Now that you're here I'm okay."

Only pretending to be in distress, Harry grabbed his former lover by the waist.

"Harry, control yourself," Angelina said, thrashing about to get loose. "I'm an engaged woman."

"I can't help myself. You bring out the beast in me. Come back to me. Be my lover!"

Suddenly, Tom appeared at the open door to the library.

"What the hell's going on here?" he asked, a mixture of anger and surprise in his voice, distracting the former lovers. "Angelina, what are you doing?"

"Oh, Thomas, thank goodness you're here," Angelina said, seizing upon the momentary diversion to break from Harry's arms and run for protection into the arms of her fiancé. "Harry...he...he... came on to me."

Resting her head on Tom's chest, the librarian closed her eyes and let loose a heavy sigh of relief.

Harry, meanwhile, smiled sheepishly, like a boy who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Combing his mussed up hair with his fingers, he took a nonchalant step forward. Then suddenly, as if shot from a cannon, he ran past the couple, out the door and the library. Seconds later, Tom and Angelina saw him through the library office's window exit the school, climb into his parked car and speed off.

"Are you alright?" Tom asked Angelina, gently spinning her around so he could look into her face. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Yes, I'm alright," the shocked woman said, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

"What brought that on?"

"I don't know. He came in like 10, 15 minutes ago to wish me well on the wedding. Then he gave me this wedding present. Next thing I knew, Harry was chasing me around the room."

Angelina picked up her new cigarette holder and showed it to Tom.

"That's really stylish," he said. "I like it a lot. Hey, is that a new brand of cigarette you've got in there?"

"Yes, I mistakenly bought Mistys the other day."

"They're longer and wider than your other brand."

"Yes, they are."

"I like how they look in your new holder."

To the smoking fetisher Tom, the sight of his lover holding the long bronze holder with the long and fat cigarette protruding from it, went to the core of his fixation; now, it REALLY looked to him as if Angelina was smoking a penis.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tom became distracted by a cigar on the floor. Bending down, he picked it up and examined it.

"Where'd this come from?" he asked, holding the Montecristo with both hands at either end.

"It's Harry's," Angelina replied. "I guess he dropped it when he started chasing me."

Seeing Tom hold the expensive cigar -- her ideal of male power and virility -- once again sparked Angelina's fetish, one that never failed to tickle her pussy. Seductively, the nymphomaniac undid the top three buttons on her white blouse, exposing the inside half of her breasts.

She need not have gone to the trouble, as Tom had already developed a hard-on, but he sure didn't mind the effort. Staring at each other with intensity blazing from their eyes, Angelina and Tom couldn't hold back their tidal wave of passion any more. Coming together, in that rare moment when lovers' sexual desires are equal high intensity, they began to kiss -- their tongues violently fighting to see which could out French kiss the other. It was raw, physical and feral; having less to do with love than down and dirty lust.

Their hands were also involved: Tom's squeezing Angelina's butt cheeks and Angelina unzipping Tom's pants, so she could jerk his stiff-as-a-board cock. As the foreplay continued, in one motion Tom reached his left hand around front, lifted Angelina's pencil skirt and pressed his erection up against her pussy. The red, laced panties covering his fiancé's bush didn't stand a chance against his powerful penis. With a few hard thrusts, Tom's dick poked through the thin fabric and straight up Angelina's invitingly warm and wet vagina. Moaning in ecstacy, Angelina couldn't seem to care less that her lover had just ruined a pair of expensive underwear. All she was interested in at that moment was being pleasured.

Their bodies entwined, Tom and Angelina bounced around the office with an animal lust fueled by their respective fetishes, before the young man lifted the older woman onto her desk. Angelina curled her right booted leg around Tom's midsection and squeezed, forcing their frames even closer together, his dick plunging even deeper into her pussy.

"Ohhh...OHHH!" the closed-eyed Angelina again moaned in excitement, upon feeling Tom's manhood poke her G-spot.

Tom multi-tasked, kissing Angelina's exposed chest, while he continued to pump his fiancé. Clutching the soft leather of her boot that was bent around his waist, his boot fetish kicked in, too. Now, both of his teenage-birthed fetishes were fully engaged -- the intense sexual gratification of his lover wearing boots and smoking from a cigarette holder heightened his sensations. Tom felt the walls of Angelina's pussy close in on his cock with every thrust; delicately caress it on the way down and release it on the way up. Over and over, Tom's penis nose-dived to the depths of Angelina's vagina, resurfacing for air for a second before taking yet another plunge to the pleasurable waters of her pussy. Building up speed, Tom could feel his hunt for the buried treasure getting closer with every thrust through her bearded clam.

Faster and faster he fucked, his 53-year-old fiancé barely holding on to her orgasm, her wits and her consciousness in the face of such extreme hedonism. Finally, breathing heavily, when neither thought they could take the pleasure any more, they climaxed as one. Tom filling Angelina's pussy with wave upon wave of cum, and Angelina spurting an orgasm that met his fluid, mixing to form a lovers' cocktail.

Angelina fell backwards onto her desk, while Tom collapsed on top of her. Too spent to talk, they passed the next couple minutes catching their breath, Tom in no hurry to remove his dick from Angelina's pussy, and Angelina in no rush to be free from it.

Finally, Tom regained enough strength to push himself off and out of his lover.

"Ten minutes ago, I was ready to punch Mr. Seymour in the face," Tom said in irony. "Now, I want to send him a thank you card for buying you that holder. I'm going to enjoy seeing you smoke with that -- and your Mistys."

"Thomas darrhhling," Angelina said, stroking her lover's dick with the long fingers of her red nail polished hands as they lay together on her desk. "I've no idea what kind of marriage is in store for us. But I know one thing. We're going to have the most divine sex life. Now, lets get cleaned up and get something to eat. You're going to need nourishment if you want to take me again tonight."