Quiet, Pleased

And, of course... Bibi was still hard. She felt no different than she had before she'd opened the art book, except for a deepening sense of shame for ruining it for whoever needed it next. Normally, this technique left her quite liberated of sexual thoughts for... at least an hour.

Not this time. She could definitely try again, but would that just leave an entire row of ruined books covering the stratum of art history from cave paintings to inexplicable modern art? At her current level of arousal, Bibi could probably allow herself to masturbate to a boob-shaped steel girder.

She just had to hide. Find someplace to spend her time and let her erection wither. If she had the key, she could go into one of the private media rooms. Nobody else could enter it until she left, too. But... what would she wear? Would she just rip up the high-traffic carpet from the floor and wrap herself in that? Would she take the large reels from the projectors and cover herself like a fan dance?

Bibi passed by a dark red door with yellow-and-black striped accents. The fire exit. The sign said that an alarm would sound if it was opened... but Bibi knew that wasn't strictly true. There was an RFID scanner to stop people from stealing books without checking them out, but if someone walked through those doors without a book, they could just... leave.

That door lead to five sets of stairs, all leading to their equivalent doors on other floors, all locked from the other side. The stairs led, inexorably, to the outside. (It would be a pretty lousy fire exit if it didn't bring someone out of the building that was on fire.)

Outside. Sure, social nudity was more acceptable in some circumstances, but it's not like this door would drop her off at a nude beach in northwestern France. The idea of being in this predicament while out in her city was significantly less appealing. Maybe the opportunities to find clothing were greater, but so were the risks and potential witnesses. If she had her purse, she could at least get into her car! Maybe go to a drive-by boutique and get a new sweater...

No. As bad as her situation was, at least she was familiar with her surroundings. She knew where everything was. There were only so many people she would reasonably find inside the library, none of them likely to be a police officer. Best of all... she wouldn't get rained on.

Bibi walked away from the exit. There must be some other way out of this predicament. She just had to find it. She kept peeking around the corners before jumping past them, not seeing anyone near.

Bibi turned a corner and jumped back from a humanlike form she saw down the aisle. A moment later, she realized that it must have been a reflection of some kind. It had to be; the form appeared to be naked, just like her. Bibi turned back around the corner with greater confidence, sure there was nothing to fear. Even she wasn't so skittish as to jump away from her own reflection.

There was a naked form standing about where she remembered it. But it was not a reflection.

After all, this person had larger breasts and wider hips, quite proudly displayed. She also had short-cropped blue-and-purple hair straight out of a modern video game, colors so bright and attention-getting that they could be used in road flares. In one hand, she held one of those telescoping arms that held a phone out at a more cinematically pleasing distance.

In her other hand... she was jerking off her huge cock.

Frozen in shock, Bibi stood there just long enough for the woman to look to her side... and make eye contact with her. The woman's mouth fell open with a shocked smile.

Bibi fled. She hadn't even reconciled how incredibly unlikely it was for her to encounter another nude woman with a large penis in the library on today, of all days. Let anyone else see her now. Let all her coworkers see her shameful nudity. Let them snare her in a butterfly net and send her to the nut house for her deviancy. Just don't let this streamer broadcast her body to the entire world.

Streaking through the stacks, Bibi stumbled around, trying to find somewhere to hide. But she made a crucial error. Most of the aisles were open on both ends. But after a new computer lab was added to the top floor, certain stacks had to be re-arranged to accommodate this.

Despite her familiarity with this building... Bibi had just run herself into the five-story library's ONLY dead-end. And she could hear footsteps approaching. She could climb up the shelves and get out of this literary cul-de-sac... she could double back before she got there... she could climb through an air vent like that guy from Die Hard...

But those weren't in her natural instincts. Comparisons to mice grew stronger, as the nude streamer found Bibi sitting on the floor, hugging her knees with her head down, neither face nor cock visible. Bibi could hear someone approach, but she didn't dare move and increase her embarrassment further.

The streamer said something about taking a break and wanting to hash out a deal with the new talent. She tapped Bibi's shoulder to get her to see that her phone was now on the floor. If it could see anything, it was just the ceiling. No more eyes were gawking at them.

They were alone. Naked and cornered, but alone. Besides, this was the section of the library with government documents and other boring picayune publications that saw less circulation than the microfiche collection. Nobody would bother them... hopefully.

The colorful-haired woman introduced herself as Decymal. Decy for short. Even if that was a fake Internet name, Bibi still politely responded with her own name. Decy explained they had about three minutes to talk before the pre-baked advertisements ended and the show would have to continue. Bibi wondered what products advertised during on-location public nudity porn streaming. Enhancement pills seemed likely, but it could just as easily be water-based lubricant or online fast food delivery.

Decymal sat down on the carpet beside Bibi and promised her that she would not make her participate if she didn't want to. However, streaming was her way of making money. So, if Bibi was willing to help Decymal, she could help her in return.

She promised that she hadn't shown Bibi's face yet, and would not do so if that's what she wanted. If she didn't want to take part in any way, Decy could leave her here to hide and would return after her broadcast and bring her something to wear. But that could be quite a while from now, depending on her personal stamina. Decy insisted that once the stream started, she was helpless to stop it. If she wanted something to wear now... she'd have to join her stream. She promised not to show her face if she was shy, but she didn't know why anyone would be shy while wielding something so profound. Decy promised that if her viewers saw her thing, they would want to see it in action.

The very notion of Decy's proposition caused Bibi's heart to jump into her throat. If she was remotely comfortable with transmitting her nudity onto the Internet... she wouldn't have gotten a degree in library sciences.

And yet... Decymal had nothing on between her thin chain necklace and her fur-lined boots, but was sitting as casually as if she was in her own bedroom. The looseness and freedom in her motion made Bibi's tight, tense shivering seem ever more ridiculous. Bibi didn't know how she could be so relaxed... but she clearly had put herself in this situation on purpose. Given a week to psych herself up to prancing around her workplace nude... she'd ask for another week and promptly give notice. All she wanted to was tighten up and shrink until she vanished...

Then again, Decy was offering to help. And if Bibi's face wasn't in shot... how would anyone know it's her? She didn't wear jewelry, and her skin was devoid of any distinct moles or blemishes. Besides, it wasn't like that many people had seen her naked before this moment. The odds of someone identifying her from this stream seemed very low indeed... and she really wanted to put something on.

With a few seconds to go before the commercial break ended, Bibi agreed to Decymal's terms. Her only condition was to keep her head out of frame to maintain her anonymity.

Decymal's stream resumed with her standing with her shoulders up against the stacks. She told her audience that she'd be joined by a special guest. She was new to the game, so she didn't want to show her face on camera, in case any of her bosses were watching.

With a slow pan, Decymal brought the camera across Bibi's nude shivering body... and she made her premiere.

Chat was excited, to say the least. Double the nudity, and double the amount of dick... maybe even a bit more than double. Chat expressed themselves as they often did when showed an engorged cock, which was to smother it in rapturous praise and request as to what they'd like to see happen to it.

Bibi's face was bright red... but she trusted that it wasn't in shot. Decy had promised that much, but it really felt like the camera was turned down at JUST the right angle to barely keep her head out of frame... but show everything else from shoulders to toes.

Keep her chin up, as her mum always said.

Decy asked if Bibi had a screen name she wanted to tell the people. Bibi shrugged mostly with her hands, since they were definitely in frame. Decy let the request drop, saying they'll workshop something later, but now it was time to give the people what they were tuning in for.

Bibi knew exactly what that meant. It's not like she didn't do it frequently... she had just done it not a few minutes ago... but this time, someone would definitely be watching. She just hoped it wouldn't be any of her coworkers.

She took her thumb and first two fingers, her preferred grip, and started to rub herself. The blood rushed to her cheeks anew. Even having a single set of eyes on her as she did this was embarrassing. She didn't dare contemplate how many were watching through the screen.

It felt weird to be naked in her workplace, although she was rapidly adjusting to the feeling. It felt REALLY weird to jerk off while standing up in an environment that wasn't her shower. When she otherwise indulged in onanism, she was either sitting at her computer looking at videos, or tucked in her bed. It was like driving to work every day, and then mixing it up by riding in on a skateboard. Nothing about this was familiar. Maybe she could close her eyes and pretend she was in bed... Bibi stepped back to the bookshelf to see if she could lean on something and pretend it was a bed.

The cold mass-produced stainless steel bookshelves felt like ice against her bare back, and Bibi returned to her position in the center of the aisle, her eyes still closed, trying to imagine a different scenario... maybe she could pretend she was in the shower. She played the white noise of her shower in her mind's ear, imagining the chill of the cold water pounding her head as she held her stalwart towel rack, all while gripping herself with the same force.

It wasn't working. There was too much dissonance in this fantasy. She wasn't in her nice shower with her lovely soapy grip with nobody around to watch, or even hear her sing if she was an extrovert. She was at work, in an unimaginable predicament, with a stranger recording it for the Internet.

Bibi opened her eyes, terminating the fantasy and gazing upon her new partner in content creation. Decy's body language was completely casual and focused on her phone screen. Really nothing new there for women of their approximate age, except for the nudity. She wasn't nervous or fearful, she was engrossed in the images she was sending out to the Internet.

Bibi had this weird hang-up where she didn't like it when porn performers engaged in the camera. Unless they were a professional e-thot and the camera was an acknowledged component, as was the case here, doing so was almost as bad as when actors broke the fourth wall in films. But it was more than that. Years of getting teased for being a nerd while growing up made her extremely suspicious when anyone portrayed direct interest in her. This left her unable to engage in videos that presented fantasies of affection and similar content, where the participant would look doe-eyed into the camera and thank you for the heart-shaped box of chocolates and so forth.

Decy was watching and enjoying what she was seeing... but her body language was all business. She looked more like someone behind the scenes on a film set than an actor. While she was off-camera, she was working, trying to get the shot. She'd even grown partially flaccid... not the reaction she had expected for her solo premiere.

But then Decy looked up over the phone and caught Bibi's eye for a moment. Her smile immediately reappeared, and she winked. She looked back down to her screen with a new expression, one punctuated with a softly bitten lower lip. It was like she had remembered what she was filming. No cameras were on her face, so that smile was all for her.

And so was her erection, which quickly grew back to its full height within a few seconds. She had done it without a word, without a motion. Sure, she was jerking it, but she'd been doing that for a few minutes now... wow, had it really been that long? She can't believe they hadn't been caught yet.

Bibi was getting close. She could feel it all building up inside again... but where could she release it? She didn't want to wreck any more books. She cupped her free hand, but there's no way that would hold what she was about to create.

In a scene Decy believed to be worthy of a pair of 3D glasses, Bibi sprayed her seed out forward in an arc and splattered onto the dark carpet between them. Decy opened her mouth, purely as a matter of instinct. Decy got a close up of Bibi's reddened tip as it dribbled out the last remnants into a puddle between her feet, just in time to watch her toes curl and knees turn inward at the sudden scrutiny.

Bibi felt some relief, but that was quickly supplanted with embarrassment. Even if the Internet would never know her identity, she would know that she had debased herself for a collection of perverts that could apparently watch pornography while at work. She hadn't even gotten rid of her erection! It was still there, just as sturdy and irresistible as ever. But at least she had earned something to wear for her labors...

From behind a sweat wristband on her left wrist, Decymal pulled out something flat and square. What Bibi momentarily hoped was a folded hospital gown... was, in fact a single wrapped condom.

Bibi stared at it with obvious disapproval. Decymal described her unamused stare for the benefit of the audience, and tittered at the quality of her jape. This was not what Bibi had in mind when Decymal offered her 'something to wear.' It was Bibi's fault for not asking for clarification.

Decymal bobbed her eyebrows suggestively from behind her phone, eager to see how she'd look in that particular garment. This evidently was less a prank and more an excuse to watch Bibi roll that thing over her huge cock. But Bibi didn't feel like putting it on just yet. This had all the added modesty of a temporary tattoo. Less, in fact, since the 'garment' had obvious sexual connotations. Bibi took out one of the two hairbands holding her hair in place and pulled it past her hand, tucking the condom to the inside of her wrist.

Bibi always wore two hairbands in case one broke during the day. Maybe she should wear two pairs of panties, too... or keep a backup pair in her purse... or buy a coat she could wear if she ever found herself scurrying around her workplace naked. These were all fine ideas for the next time this scenario befell her, but weren't really of much help right now.

Decymal panned her camera down to the floor and revealed the pearly white streaks of jizz on the dark carpet, like someone had smashed a bottle of craft glue. Decy helpfully suggested that perhaps they should move on to a new aisle so someone wouldn't blame this mess on the two biggest cocks in the building.

And so, Decymal reached out and took Bibi's hand and walked out of the aisle into a lonely connecting hallway with a wall on one side. It was a place where they were unlikely to be seen, but Decymal set the pace with a casual, unhurried stroll. Bibi's thighs and buttocks were twitching a bit as they walked as she resisted the natural urge to flee at a desperate sprint. Maybe it was like choosing between walking and running in the rain. You'll get just as wet, and running means you could roll an ankle. Maybe dashing everywhere was just making it more likely to run into some unsuspecting bystander...

Or maybe Decymal was surreptitiously filming them walking, their cocks wobbling from side to side like metronomes running at slightly different rates. Both their heads were cut off, but there was no choice if Bibi insisted on keeping her face hidden. Decy was surely hoping that Bibi would work up the nerve to have that all-important Internet event: the face reveal. If nothing else, it would make for easier and more dynamic photography of their nude frolic.

They turned down an unoccupied aisle. Decymal pulled the camera onto herself and showed the chat something. It was a little round red sticker, about three-quarters of an inch in diameter. Decymal stated that it contained a microchip that the phone's RFID reader would recognize and blur out the surrounding area to her broadcast. They were developed for cucks who get off to censorship and denial. If Bibi was interested, she could just put this on the tip of her nose and it would hide her face without any post-production fuss.

She passed the dot to Bibi... who put the dot back on the spine of a random book. If someone asked for a stack of books to be held for research purposes, they were grouped together with these temporary color-coded stickers. Sometimes, these would stay on a book after it had been returned to the stacks, but the adhesive was only barely stronger than a Post-it note. The covers were never harmed by them. The only potential damage that would result from using the sticker would be to the reputation of someone believing in preposterous lies like live-broadcast face censoring straight from the Laughing Man.

If Bibi was going to have her face be online alongside her naked body... it wouldn't be with a red circle on her nose like an actual clown. Bibi quietly instructed Decymal that she would have to not be lazy and keep her camera trained away from her face for now.

This was how Bibi found herself holding the telescoping pole with the phone attached at the end. It was now her job to record and get satisfyingly erotic angles of Decymal for her audience.

Bibi looked to the screen of the phone. The screen was divided roughly in half, one filled with white-on-dark-gray letters that represented the chat messages of the viewers, and the other a live video of the outward facing camera. The two screens were separated by a few buttons in the middle that she didn't dare touch. The little red dot in the corner of the video indicated that, indeed, this was live and being broadcast right now.

Some chat messages were highlighted and lingered at the top of the screen for longer than others did. Extra generous viewers could donate more to have their message stand out to the broadcaster. Bibi didn't know how to portray these messages to their intended recipient without speaking, but most of them were unimportant missives like "keep jerking it," "ur so hot" and "i cuum." Decy would simply have to respond to these messages when she was back in the office.

Against the dark chat window, Bibi could faintly see her silhouette reflected in the shiny glass. There was just enough detail to see her bare shoulders... and there was that tiny dot for the front-facing camera. She really hoped that it wasn't secretly recording.. maybe she should have stuck that red sticker over that instead.