Quiet, Pleased

One mistake could change the course of the whole day. Or more.

Bibi was an assistant librarian at the largest library in the city. Five floors, six hundred thousand books, a well-equipped multimedia center, six conference rooms, one auditorium and many, many places to sit down and read, study or work. To be in this huge place often felt like being a mouse skittering around a house built for giants.

Bibi disliked comparisons to mice, as her style was often called 'mousy.' Thick-rimmed black glasses and chestnut hair swept back into a ponytail, dark knitted sweater, black skirt hemmed a few inches above the knee, thigh-high stockings and heels... she just wanted to keep the library in tidy order and assist anyone she could without drawing too much attention to herself.

But one mistake this morning was playing over and over again in her head.

Last night, Bibi had stayed up a little past her normal bedtime of 9:00PM. When her alarm tried to rouse her at 6AM, she did something she never did.

She actually hit the snooze button.

Bibi got nine minutes more sleep, but at the cost of completely upturning her morning routine. Without those crucial minutes, she didn't have time for her electric kettle to heat up the water she needed to make her morning oatmeal while she was in the shower. She bathed as fast as she could, but she was still behind her normal expected time where she could leave her house and avoid the traffic. Bibi dressed in a mad rush and grabbed a prepackaged breakfast bar to eat in the car on the drive in.

Visibly, everything was in place. She looked just how she did on any other day working at the library.

With one exception.

A library patron, a college student with a hoodie and backwards baseball cap, had asked Bibi if she could get a reference book from the top shelf of the stacks. The rolling ladder was right there, and Bibi could easily climb this device as she had many times before and come down with the requested volume.

But in Bibi's haste to get out the door, she had forgotten to put on panties.

She noticed it the moment she sat down in her car, the fuzzy upholstery of her car seat touching places normally protected by that sliver of silk. She should have ran back up to her apartment and grabbed a pair before leaving... but then she might get caught in traffic!

Bibi was never, ever late. She had never even been on time. She was always, always early. Even if it was just by one minute, she was always there before the bell, so to speak.

(In her youth, working in the relative chaos of retail, she was appalled how many of her co-workers would show up 'on time' and then disappear in the locker room to change into their uniform. Why not just wear the uniform to work? Was the battle against wage theft even covering dressing yourself in the appropriately colored polo? The only people you're stealing from are your coworkers who have to wait for your less-appropriately dressed rear end.)

Less-appropriately dressed rear end... Bibi didn't want to think about that right now. It made her heart race even harder. The man was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her answer. She couldn't leave him waiting long. The ladder was there, the book was there... she was there. All the necessary elements were in place. But if she were to climb this ladder all the way to the top, and if he were to glance up at her as she ascended...

She couldn't even think of it. It was too embarrassing to even contemplate. Her feet clung to the floor like heavy bags of cement. But what could she do?

Maybe she could ask HIM to climb the ladder and reach the book himself. Normally, she got very annoyed when people made use of the ladders by themselves, especially if it was just to climb around without purpose like a wooden jungle gym. But if a coworker caught her allowing a patron to do this, she would surely be in trouble for opening them up to such liability. What if he fell off and broke his neck? What good would that book of maps of the Iberian peninsula do him then, except to direct him to a passionate Spanish workplace injury attorney?

Summoning her courage, Bibi took a deep breath and accepted the task. She put one foot on the lowest rung, and her knee was already shaking. She wasn't afraid of heights, or at least not the meager heights that a ladder presented her with. But an experience like this might give her such a phobia. With even breaths, she slowly climbed the ladder one step at a time. Keep three points of contact on the ladder at all times. That's what they told her in training, but nobody in training ever seemed to know what to do once you had hold of a large heavy book at the top of the ladder.

Bibi didn't dare look down. She knew that her skirt hem was just above the top of his head. If he only had that darn ball cap turned around the proper way, maybe he wouldn't be able to see up her skirt after all. That's what the bill on the cap was for, right? Protecting the eyes from the sun? Maybe people started wearing it backwards to protect the backs of their necks from sunburn, thus trying to relieve them of that ever-disparaging nickname for unsophisticated southerners.

She got the book off the shelf and tucked it under her arm, descending as carefully as she could. She passed the book to the patron and quickly turned away from him. He barely looked up from his phone to accept the book from her before turning and walking away.

Bibi was alone in the aisle of books now. The man had evidently respected her privacy enough to not peek up her skirt as she ascended a ladder. Young people nowadays were so used to images of glamorous and scantily-clad women eagerly posting manipulated pictures to social media, maybe a peek of panties just wasn't enough for him anymore.

She stared down at herself glumly. Her black skirt was tented upward with something hard between her legs: her fully-erect penis.

How on Earth did she get out of the house without panties? Maybe she had it tucked just right so it felt as if it was stuffed into her undies like normal. As it was, she was now in a much worse predicament than before. Why didn't she keep a spare pair in her glove compartment? Everything else she could possibly need in an emergency was stored there...

Bibi had never faced this predicament before. It's not that she didn't occasionally experience sexual feelings at work. Some of the patrons were attractive and charming, but surely none of them wanted her, right? Most people assured Bibi that she was a comely young woman, but they'd surely be scared off by this extension. Why bother thinking about such things at work when nothing will ever result from it?

Something about the threat of being seen, helpless as the man on the floor watches her cock and balls pinched between her skinny thighs... this had left her quite aroused.

Bibi felt very exposed, standing between these two long bookshelves. Her head darted back and forth like she was at a tennis match. The library was a place of quiet, but that only meant that someone could spring on you at any time with no warning. Having an erection in public was like running into a disliked coworker at the movie theater. She knew how she'd normally handle this... but out here, the rules were different.

As much as she wanted to get rid of this right now, there was no way she could possibly even think of doing that in a public place. If someone were to catch her, she'd die of shame. (Bibi also realized that running late also meant that she hadn't been able to do this in the shower this morning.) The only obvious option left was to tuck it into her clothes and get to a private place to calm down. Bibi unzipped the side of her skirt and tried to bring it around the base of her cock, hiding the bulk of it under her sweater. But her waist was so petite and small, her cock so thick... she couldn't zip the skirt's zipper up with her cock inside the waistband.

Unwisely, Bibi tried to force the zipper up, despite its strong protests to being stretched. She tugged and tugged, but the skirt would not make room for this new girth. With one last tug, the zipper snapped and broke apart, the skirt separating and sliding off her hips like a loose ribbon.

Bibi squeaked quietly like a startled chipmunk. She bent over to recover the broken skirt. Before today, having someone see her bare bottom at her job would be enough for her to change her name and move to another state. Compared to the humiliation she'd face if anyone saw her erection, mooning someone didn't even compare.

She withdrew a single bobby pin from her hair and bent it to hold the skirt together without the zipper. It felt like it would stay, but of course, her cock was still pushing the rest of the skirt upwards, refusing to be hidden. Keeping most of the shaft barely hidden in her sweater seemed unnecessary when the rest of it, including her balls, were just hanging free. At least her rear was covered.

Bibi tried to calm herself, even if her lower extension would take much greater urging to do so. She could get out of this predicament. She just had to keep her wits about her and not worry about the possible consequences of everyone she works with seeing her huge uncontrollable erection. Maybe not spelling it out like that would help.

She looked to the second shelf from the floor. Sometimes, one shelf at this height would hold the irregularly shaped books of the general subject of this bay. Bibi found the irregular books near the end of the aisle, grabbing the largest one from this selection. It was a thin book with a green cover, long and wide, a little bigger than the average laptop. Whatever important information the book contained... it was large enough to cover her shame.

It was not natural to walk with a book posed directly over one's groin. But perhaps nobody else here would expect what she was hiding behind it. She certainly didn't tell any of her co-workers about it. But all she had to do was get to the lavatories across the floor. She wouldn't take the book INTO the lavatory, of course; the RFID tags in the book would set off an alarm if any book entered the lav, the same way they would if someone tried to leave the library without checking them out. She'd never actually heard the alarm in front of the lavatory... maybe it was a bluff. Setting off an alarm in a library is a great way to ruin everyone's concentration.

Bibi walked down the hallway connecting the aisles at the back, the windows to her right, showing the bustling city to her side. It almost felt like she was walking around outside with her erection outside her clothes, an absolutely terrifying notion. As the sun scattered softly on her face, it took considerable discipline to keep an even pace instead of panicking and running for it.

But the lavatories were in sight. She'd pitch the book before they set off the alarm and run into a stall, hoping that nobody was standing at the sinks. Only a few more aisles to go...

And Bibi was intercepted by an art student, white t-shirt stained with splotches of paint, who pointed at the book in Bibi's lap, saying aloud that THERE was that collection of works of Salvator Rosa that he was looking for, and if he could please take it from the lovely librarian.

After a few nervous chuckles where she backed away from his eager pawing hands, Bibi insisted that she had to return the book to the shelf where it was meant to go first before dispensing it to a library patron, such was the byzantine nature of the librarian's union. That wasn't true, of course, but the artist didn't know that. He responded that he would thus follow her until she returned that book to its rightful place on the shelf, where it would be shepherded into his care.

Bibi nodded, feeling a bit helpless, and started walking back the way she came, and away from the lavatories... and her much-craved privacy. The art student wasn't sure why this librarian chick was so flushed and nervous at the sight of him. Sure, he was good looking AND he was an artist, but most librarians only cared about the fictional musclemen on the covers of harlequin romance novels.

If only he knew what Bibi and those characters had in common. In fact, she probably had even those fictional studs beat by a few inches. The female protagonists of those books always seemed impressed. Right now, it was nothing but an inconvenience.

The librarian cried out and pointed out the window, which diverted the artist's attention for only a moment, in which she was unable to find a suitable replacement for her case-bound censor bar. He wasn't sure what she had even pointed at. Maybe one of those skateboarders near the stone stairs had pulled off a sick ollie.

The pair reached the aisle, but the librarian disappeared around the corner a second before he reached it. As he breached the edge, she pushed the book up into his face as she pulled another random book off the shelf and held it to her groin. This book was heavier, but also not quite long enough to keep her completely concealed. Luckily, the student's attention was pulled to the book as Bibi stepped away. He complained that there appeared to be a wet spot on the book, with something that felt like spiderweb on it. Bibi said it was probably a little silk from a bookworm... which was partially true. She promised to tell her boss that she might have to spray very soon.

That part was definitely true. But she would not tell her boss that.

Bibi was alone again... for now. But the book she grabbed, one volume of an encyclopedia, wasn't as long as she was. She tried opening the book and holding it by one cover, letting it hang over her crotch like a loincloth, but she was terrified of letting even a drop of precum fall on the pages. The covers could handle a little moisture, but not the pages.

She returned to the aisle and decided to hide herself in a different way. If the book wasn't long enough... she just needed more books. It took a stack of seven horizontal encyclopedia to cover herself completely. She held the books lower than she might if she was carrying them for non-erection related reasons, but she felt more naturally concealed this way than with the single oversized book.

But darn, were these books heavy. Bibi was skinny and small, as even the most strenuous library work did not generally involve moving more than one book at a time by hand. Even if she was hidden from prying eyes, she had to reject the few gentlemen offering to assist her. She thanked them and ducked away, insisting that she was fine, despite her arms shaking and sweat appearing on her forehead, one droplet making the journey down between her shoulder blades to her butt crack.

It was an easier journey than she was taking. All she had to do was get someplace where she could be alone for a little while, she could calm down and return to her job with some sense of decency. She didn't think she could get into the lavatory this way, as it'd be too hard to shed this giant stack of reference books before entering. But her skinny arms would definitely wear out before her thick member would calm down.

Bibi didn't get the chance. A customer approached her to take a book from her stack, but she insisted that she got it. How right she was, he opined, as she was in possession of the volume he was looking for.

Of course she was. Finals week. Always a crowded and chaotic time at the library.

The man looked through the disorganized volumes, pulling one out from the center of the stack and letting the top fall down into her arms, almost sending her tumbling forward. More troubling, every time he pulled out a volume, there was a little cylinder of cock exposed for a fraction of a second. The man didn't seem to notice, as he was trying to figure out which volume of German history covered the Hussite Wars.

He kept switching which book he was looking at, carelessly dropping them onto the top of the stack. (And putting them out of numerical order! That was the really outrageous part.) The man took a second book and compared the two, one in each hand like someone in a commercial comparing laundry soaps. So focused was he that didn't noticed that he had unveiled the tip of her cock. She struggled to stay upright... or at least her body did. There it was, sitting behind the top book like a huge toadstool, just as red as her cheeks.

Satisfied he had found the correct book, he dropped the other unneeded volume behind him as he walked away, onto the stack. The book landed crooked, the full weight of the volume dropping against her cock head.

Bibi whimpered. That hurt. She was used to being disrespected and underestimated by the members of this library, but this was new. It was still better that he did that than see her in her shame. Of course, with both hands holding the books up, she could not adjust the book's position. It rested askew against her tip, threatening to slide off at any moment.

She hoisted the book down another aisle, her fingers slipping from the smooth faux-leather surface of the lowest volume. She didn't know how much longer she could hold it. Maybe she could just sit in front of the stack, legs spread out betwixt them, and pretend to read until she settled down...

In the nearest aisle, she saw something. A blue bottle, clearly some kind of cleaning fluid. Maybe one of the janitors had left it there.

It may not have been a better idea, but it was an idea that did not involve feats of strength or endurance. She dropped the stack of books at the end of the aisle, where someone might trip over them, but that seemed like small potatoes compared to her current problem. She grabbed the bottle and went towards the windows.

In her sweater's breast pocket, she had her trusty handkerchief. (If she'd known she would find herself in such a situation, she would have carried a handkerchief that was four feet wide. Hindsight was 20/20, much unlike her.) Bibi pressed herself against the glass window, hiding her cock from three of the four cardinal directions. Now, the only people who could see her... were standing outside.

She was on the first floor, but the library was surrounded by decorative trees and grass. Nobody was standing close enough to see... hopefully. She could just stay here and wait for it to settle a bit, all while pretending she was washing the windows.

Bibi sprayed the bottle's contents against the glass and rubbed it with her handkerchief. This seemed to smear up the window pretty effectively, not the general purpose of cleaning windows. It looked like she'd just sprayed the glass with hairspray.

Her handkerchief didn't seem to be cleaning the window very effectively, either. It quickly grew damp and crumpled up in her hand. It didn't really matter. She just had to do this until she calmed down... but the cool glass felt so nice... it wasn't helping at all... maybe she could just wait this out before her boss saw her and asked why she was cleaning the windows with Febreze. (Why did they even have Febreze? Surely, they weren't spraying this on the books. Who didn't love the smell of an old book?)

Behind her, she heard a telltale squeak that she had heard many times before. It was the old book cart, being pushed by a coworker to return books to their rightful place. Her coworker took an armful of books from the top rack and walked down the aisle.

Bibi was always willing to help her coworkers with their workloads if she could. So she grabbed the cart and wheeled it away. Her coworker had her wireless earbuds in, so she didn't hear it as the wheels squeaked off into the distance. Bibi was glad this cart was so tall, just enough to tuck her erection in the rounded top of the cart and hide it from view... the cold metal feeling even nicer than the glass. At least nobody could see through this, except maybe Superman.

Now, if someone wanted to take a book from her cart, at least this wouldn't leave her in a predicament of exposure. All she had to was stand uncomfortably close to this cart and pretend she was in the right aisle to return these to the shelves. Sure, this Tex-Mex cookbook might generously be able to be placed next to this history of the Alamo, but the notion of disordering the shelves in that way caused her more distress than any unfortunate public nudity. She would just keep entering the wrong aisles until she calmed down... but how could she calm down with her coworkers and innumerable bystanders so close?