Librarian's LunchtimebyDavid Phillips©
Joanna Quimby worked everyday at the public library. She loved her job because she loved books. They added so much to her vivid imagination. When she was alone with her books, she came to life.
This quiet librarian was a statuesque 6'2", and rail thin. Her long hair was often found pulled back into a fiery bushel of tight red curls, and tied with a black velvet bow.
Joanna's plain, even gawky, stature belied a very seductive, feline appeal. A small, pouting mouth lay below a delicately freckled, aquiline nose. If you looked into her green eyes, you could swear you'd met a wildcat.
Today, her pert little breasts and shapely petite ass were hugged tightly by a rather drab, grey suit jacket and skirt. The frills of a ruffled, white blouse gathered tightly at the base of her neck with a cameo pendant.
She wore white hose and simple, patent leather pumps. Her long legs crossed beside her as she casually filed her row of books. Joanna wasn't trying to be sexy, she was trying not to be noticed.
As she was kneeling in an out-of-the-way aisle to file books on horses, Joanna noticed a rather ragged pair of greasy jeans and black motorcycle boots, standing next to her. A very large man loomed darkly. She looked up at the stranger.
Joanna saw her reflection in his mirrored sunglasses, then her eyes dropped down to his thick, greying beard. His sleeveless black t-shirt read proudly, in bold gold lettering, Ride Hard, Ride Free. Powerful, heavily tattooed arms hung at his side. The bravado in his stance told Joanna he was a real man.
"May I help you with something, sir," she asked politely, looking up at him through her long red eyelashes. The "sir" in her innocent question was accented with a sweetly sibilant s.
"Yeah, I got a book that needs filing," he said with a sneer. His pants were greasy, but his fingernails were not. With his long hair pulled into a pony-tail, and a slight pot-belly, he looked quite threatening.
"What book is that sir?" Joanna began to stand up.
He held her down by putting his hand on her head. "It's called Cock Magic. It's quite a read."
With muted fear in her eyes, Joanna looked down to the bulge in his pants. What was clearly a very huge penis, pushed tight against the buttons of his Levis. She noticed his smell.
Joanna expected oil and dirt, but smelled cologne and the strong, earthy musk of a hard days work. He pulled her face closer to his cock.
"File it," he scowled.
Without hesitation, Joanna pressed her glossy red lips to his hot bulge. She gave it a deep, smacking kiss, leaving a proud red lip print on his crotch.
"Do you have a break soon?" The stranger's booming voice threatened to break the silence of the small library. He released Joanna's head, and tilted her delicate chin up with a strong forefinger.
"It's lunchtime, as a matter of fact." Joanna's painted lips twisted into a wicked grin. She kissed his cock once more before standing up. They walked together to the lobby where Joanna told Betty, the desk attendant, that she was leaving for lunch.
Betty winked and tittered, "See you later."
At the end of the stone walkway, Joanna saw a beautiful motorcycle. Long, silver tail pipes hung low on his machine. Waving proudly atop twin whip-tails on the back, were an American flag, and a proud POW. Death black and mean, the mighty beast beckoned to Joanna.
"Wow, is that a Harley! I've always wanted to ride a hog," she gasped.
"You'll be riding on another in a minute, heh, heh," he mumbled. "Put on that helmet," he pointed to the red skull-cap hanging on the handlebars.
Joanna noticed it said, "Stretch," in gold on the back. She strapped it on.
The large, bearded man mounted his ride. The machine lowered slightly with a tiny squeak.
Joanna climbed on easily. She hugged his middle as he started 'er up. The powerful vibrations of the bike quickly rattled Joanna's pussy to a sopping mess. They sped off hurriedly in a cloud of dust and exhaust. The loud trademark tail-pipes sounded oddly out of place in the quiet New England countryside.
One minute later they pulled up in front of a cute, white house. The neatly manicured lawn was surrounded by a waist high white picket fence and tall gateway.
Joanna unlocked the door, and led him into the foyer. He closed the door as she turned to him, waiting.
"Where's your basement?" He sounded like he meant business.
"I'm not telling," she leered.
He raised his hand, "Bitch, you'd better tell me where that basement is!"
She looked frightened. "Or what?" she shuddered.
"Now, I'm not telling," he said simply.
"Can't I guess?" She asked coyly.
He crossed his arms and stood straightly, "Absolutely not ma'am. That information is classified at this time. It will be given on a need-to-know basis."
"O.K. then, follow me. Bastard." She led him to the kitchen where a door was open into a modest bathroom, and another was closed with a very sturdy looking door with no knob, only a deadbolt.
He grabbed a large, plain white paper bag from the kitchen counter. Wedge looked at his watch as he handed the bag to Joanna.
"You have exactly ten minutes to get ready. Meet you downstairs, got me?"
"Yes, sir," she saluted.
Joanna closed the door to the bathroom behind her as Wedge went downstairs to prepare the basement.
Ten minutes later the large subterranean chamber was dimly lit, and heavy with a fragrant haze of smoke. Large red candles lined the walls in ornate, wrought iron sconces. In each corner of the small square room, were four smouldering gold incense burners. It was getting stuffy. In the fetid gloom, the man sat naked on a low, odd looking bench. It's back and armrests were attached to the wall behind it. He sat with his knees spread and slightly raised, while a third leg hung like an elephant trunk another ten inches past the bottom of the bench.
Wedge waited patiently like a monarch, tapping a large calloused finger. His heart pounded loudly deep in his broad hairy chest. His breathing grew deeper and more rapid the longer he waited. The incense ran out as his heart beat reached a thundering crescendo... then he heard the quiet, seductive squeak of a noisy stair.
Moments later, he heard another. The steps were slow, and methodical. His heart beat slowed with her every step.
It took Joanna nearly a minute to walk down the long spiral staircase. When the squeaking ceased, he heard the door handle turn with a hollow click.
Light seeped in, as inch by inch the large door was forced open with a groan. It creaked loudly until it opened with a hard shove and a creak.
In blinding light, Joanna stood the lengh of the massive antique dungeon gateway, burning like a house on fire. Wedge was awed by the vision. The bright light behind her radiated through her pale skin and hair.
Her flaming red curls were teased and pulled tightly to the top of her head with a black, leather band five inches long. Three silver studs ran down the front.
Cat-like, green eyeshadow accentuated her feline features. And her high cheek bones were highlighted to complete the transformation from quiet librarian to flaming sex kitten.
Joanna's glossy red lips pursed together defiantly. A gold tag glinted below a spiky dog collar. It read simply, "Stretch".
Her pert, freckled tits were pushed up in front with a black leather boustier, while her highly aroused nipples perked out with thick gold rings. Rings in her long pink labia made her bald pussy glow like burning embers.
Knee-high, black leather boots also had large silver rings on the pointed tips. Spiked heels raised her shapely, slender legs up into the tightest, round little ass.
Legs spread wide, and hands resting on her waist, told him she was ready. She waited for instructions.
He made her wait. After a long breathless pause, he said quietly, "You may enter."
Joanna strode into the room. But before she could turn to close the door, he interrupted with a cough.
"What do you think you're doing?" He asked drily.
"I've come to be punished, I'm late. I'm sorry," she said innocently. Her voice almost sounded like a little girl. High and quiet, you would have thought you were talking to the shy bookworm again.
"You will be sorry. You will only crawl in this room, prowling like a tiger in heat, understand? Are you in heat, bitch?!" He asked seriously, raising his voice.
She nodded and purred, "Mmm, I'm on fire."
"Then get on your hands and knees, and crawl over here. Now!" He ordered sternly.
Joanna dropped obediently to her knees. The door started closing behind her. She started slinking towards him with a wicked grin. The door closed with a sinister BOOM, and locked soundly. She didn't even notice.
Joanna stalked the floor towards him. Slowly, arms outstretched and head down, she stared wickedly into his eyes. Her green eyes flickered in the candlelight.
Damn, she's more of a demon than a cat, Wedge thought with admiration.
Half-way there, her gaze changed from his eyes to his massive cock. She looked lovingly at the uncircumcised monster. Joanna's mouth was pulled back with the grin of a succubus, toothy and drooling. As the warm spit appeared at the corners of her mouth, she tried collecting it with her tongue.
She got closer, and hotter. Joanna was salivating uncontrollably by the time she reached Wedge. As she sat back on her haunches, she looked up at him, awaiting her next set of instructions.
"Finish filing it, little Miss Librarian," he growled.
With both hands she reached for the Wedge. Fitting, she reflected. Joanna hefted it's girth to her painted lips. She pushed his foreskin to the front, creating a fleshy flower.
Stretch gave the Wedge a deep, sloppy kiss. She looked up for approval.
"You'll have to try harder than that, I'm afraid," he said seriously, shaking his head. "Now, put it away right."
Joanna pulled the loose skin back, exposing a large, angry red head. A large glistening drop of precum oozed from the hole.
"Oooh, I love motor-honey!" She raved, then licked the droplet off with a flourish. Joanna purred contentedly as the flavor kick-started her mouth.
She opened her ruby red lips wide as she brought the swollen head closer. Then in one eager bite, she engulfed it with her lips stretching behind the back rim. Her tongue bathed his fat cock head in love, and probed deeply into the hole.
Then Joanna began to suck in as much as she could, as fast as she could. It was like she was trying to cross the finish-line, it was quite an incredible feat.
She kept opening her mouth wider, and wider as more of the thick, flaccid cock was slowly swallowed up. She made it look almost effortless.
It wasn't too long before she was staring down at the last couple of inches, but it started to get more difficult, as the Wedge hardened. Joanna started throwing her head down onto it repeatedly. Spit bubbles squelched and drooled past her lips as she relentlessly forced her mouth over his cock, stretching her jaw close to the breaking point.
Seeing she was getting nowhere, Wedge grabbed hold of her leather hair band with both hands. Her resisting throat muscles were no match for his big guns, and within a minute, she succeeded in fully deep-throating his baseball-bat sized cock.
She won! He stood up, still holding onto her pony-tail. Joanna opened up as he turned up the throttle.
Joanna gazed deeply into Wedge's steely grey eyes, as she felt every vein slide past her lips and tickle her throat. She slurped and sucked on every inch he gave her as thick strands of drool hung from her chin and his balls. Perfectly timed, tiny, breaths prevented asphyxiation. She was good at this.
He pulled her head back as she sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. Bands of saliva bridged his cock and her mouth as it overflowed onto her chin.
"More, more, more," she mewled hungrily.
She didn't even flinch as he forced her mouth down onto his cock in one go . It didn't take long for his nuts to start banging against her chin, as he kicked it into fourth gear. From tip to root, he rapidly slid her tight mouth over his cock with seeming little regard for her safety.
"Don't forget to check the tires," he said.
Joanna removed his engorged member from her mouth, then sucked the length of it down to his balls. She sucked one nut into her mouth, and closing her teeth over it to show him who really had who, growled and pulled away like it was a piece of meat.
"Now, for your punishment. Turn around, ass up," he commanded
Joanna obeyed without question. Within seconds she was rewarded with a sharp slap on her ass.
"Thank you sir, may I have another," she teased.
SMACK. His strong calloused hands came down hard in a burning rain of sting.
"Yes! Thank you sir, may I have another." She was enjoying this.
As the spanking continued, she got wilder and more vocal. Her childlike voice sounded perverted around words like cock, fuck and asshole.
The spanking ceased. She felt her burning cheeks being spread wide apart.
"What the hell is this?!" He shouted. "I was all geared up to break in a cherry asshole, but your ass is fried, bitch! What do you do to this thing?" He remained angry as she replied.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said innocently.
"That's it! Now I'm pissed." He walked to where his pile of clothes lay, and removed the belt from his pants. Wedge walked up quietly behind Joanna. He folded the thick, black leather belt in half and grabbed the ends with both hands. He pushed them together to form a loop, then pulled it together quickly with a resounding CRACK!
"Oh my god, please don't!" She sounded worried.
He swung the belt in a great arc downward, onto her upturned ass.
"JESUS FUCK, ouch! Please stop." She supported her weight on her elbows, and brought her hands to her face.
"Oh yeah, stop it you bastard," she said through gritted teeth. She wove her slender fingers together, and started sucking her thumbs deeply.
CRACK, CRACK! Two successive slaps resounded in the small room. He heard muffled moans around wet fingers.
She bit down involuntarily. "Tailpipe!" She wailed.
"Tailpipe?" He made sure.
"Yes, tailpipe," she pouted. "Mmm, ouch," she rubbed her reddened buns.
He bent down and tenderly kissed an inflamed cheek. When her whining turned to moaning, he bit down, then nibbled gently all over her tender rump.
Joanna wiggled her hips invitingly. Wedge spread her ass with both hands and inspected her "fried" asshole.
It did indeed look well used. It had the appearance of something like a blown-out flat tire, in that used to be tight, but was stretched to capacity, never able to regain its original condition.
He kissed her ridged pucker, she kissed back. He gathered a ball of spit and forcefully expelled it onto her hole. He then began to lick wildly , and deeply fucked his long tongue into her garage. He felt her shudder as a tiny wave of release washed through her body.
"Mmm, that was nasty," she mewled.
Wedge stood up, pulled his bench out, and set it in the middle of the floor.
"Come here, now."
She crawled over to him and jumped onto the bench.
"On your back, Stretch."
As she laid on her back, Wedge went to her feet. He strapped her legs down, then moved to her head. Her neck laid out straight, as her head tilted back slightly. He raised the bench with a crank, and tipped her body back at a 45 degree angle.
"Are you ready for the first course?" He looked down at her, his meat inches from her mouth.
"Oh god yes, I'm starving!" Joanna nodded enthusiastically.
She opened her mouth as wide as she left it, and within moments she felt the large cock head ripple her muscles deep in her throat.
Wedge looked down at Joanna's long, delicate neck being gorged like a rattle-snake eating a Pringles can. He stroked her pussy with calloused hands, then pulled her rings. Her moist pussy opened with a faintly audible, sucking smack.
Her deeply pink slit was overflowing with her sweet fragrant nectar. He spat down her love well, making a wish. Then Wedge felt Joanna's long, soft fingers slide up his legs to his ass.
Stretch collected spit from her mouth on some fingers and placed them at his ass crevice. She pulled his hairy buns apart, and started searching for his hole.
Target found, she bent toward the task at hand. She rubbed the spit on the opening, then inserted a finger. Soon she had two fingers from both hands stuffed second knuckle deep into his ass.
Take that fucker, she thought. She could tell how he felt about that.
He frantically licked over her bald pussy, snorting and breathing deeply through the folds. He rubbed his beard all over her sensitive, naked skin, as he slithered his pink python down into her hole. He started licking and sucking her large clit. The reaction to his cock was instantaneous.
Joanna hummed on his cock, while he steadily pistoned it into her mouth, her nose bombarded by his fat, hairy balls. Soon, all his attention was paid to her clit in tiny nibbles.
This drove Joanna over the deep end. She began screaming like a banshee on Wedge's cock. She pulled her hands from his ass, and started digging her long red nails into his butt cheeks.
Wedge started chewing her nub like bubble gum, making his buns red with drips of blood in the process.
Just when she felt she couldn't take it any longer, and her second, much more powerful orgasm was coming to an end, she felt a great weight lift from her nose. A large wave passed her top lip. She didn't even have to swallow, as nearly a quart of his oil was pumped directly into her chassis.
Wedge coated her throat and stomach with his salty white seed. He gasped for air as he finished flushing his nuts, Joanna purring like a satisfied kitten on his cock. As his pumping slowed and his cock softened, he started to withdraw, but left the head in her mouth.
With the suction that could suck the chrome off of a trailer hitch, she drained his nuts empty. He shuddered, as he heard a quiet satisfied, "Aaah".
"Mmm, thanks for the milk, daddy," she mewled. He definitely wasn't her daddy, but she thought it sounded perfect for the job.
"O.K., intermission Stretch. Do you need anything?" He asked politely, an eyebrow cocked.
"No, you just gave me everything I needed," she said expectantly.
"Right answer, good girl! Because you know we're not through, and therefore, you don't know what you need until I give it to you, right?" Wedge started cranking down the bench, and tilted it down again. He moved to her feet to unbuckle them.
"I've learned never to underestimate you," she said adoringly.
He looked at her and ordered, "Good. Now get on that bed, Stretch!"
She looked up at him with defiance, her eyes flickered evilly in the dim, candle lit room. "Get up there, now!" He pointed to the bed in the corner.
The bed was a huge, black wooden monstrosity with four large, granite pillars looming like a shadow in the corner. A red satin sheet covered it's king sized mattress. There were many colored pillows near the headboard.
She hopped off the bench, and crawled seductively to the bed, jumping on top. There, she paced the surface of the bed, hissing like a cat from hell, thus challenging him to do his worst.
He approached the edge of the bed. "Nice kitty, lay down. Good kitty," he sounded soothing.
Stretch stopped crawling and found her place on her back.
As she raised her legs up, beads of sweat ran down her long legs from inside her black leather boots. They collected at her ass crack, then dripped onto the red satin sheet, making several small dark spots.
He moved to the right side of the bed, reached up and took down a long leather strap with a solid metal clip. All four posts had identical straps and clips. Wedge grabbed her left ankle and clipped the strap to the ring of her boot.