Romancing the Librarian Pt. 01

Excitement in Death Valley

I met Marian at a fund raiser for the library. We knew each other distantly, but socialized with different people. She had a degree in library science in her past, and substituted for the full time librarians when they went on vacation. She was tall and slim and always well dressed. Elegant wasn't quite the right word. There was a quality of aloofness that added to her feminine allure. It said this was not a woman to make a casual pass at.

"Hello, Jeff, are you enjoying the event?" I was a writer. A nearly fifty year old divorced writer, to be more exact. I had grown up in an academic family with a respect for learning, so libraries and librarians fitted into my world view of goodness.

"Just getting some of my donation back in a glass." I smiled at her and she laughed with me. "You've been on the donor list forever, don't kid me. By the way, I saw that piece you did on the salmon up north. It was very good. Sounded like the trip to research it was fun."

The article was free lance that I had done on the spur of the moment, not counting much on it being picked up. But it was and got a lot of positive feedback. My editor sent an email complimenting me and asking when the next novel would be done if I was catting around in the redwoods.

"I caught hell from my editor for that one. She wants my next manuscript, not salmon." We laughed again. "Are you an outdoor person," I asked.

She spoke carefully, "A little. But it's nice to get away to quiet places now and then." She paused, and added, "Do you like company on your trips?"

I gave her my quizzical look that invited more conversation. "Do you have a favorite place that could generate another free lance feature? I pay for good leads."

She reached out and touched my hand. I felt more than a touch. "If you are flirting with me, I like that. My friends tell me I should be dating, but it's really hard after twenty years of being a single mother. Sarah is at Wellesley, so I don't have a good reason not to get out."

"I'm not sure you need a date with a divorced, middle aged writer, but it would be fun to try." I looked straight into her wide blue eyes. They didn't blink, and she quietly said, "What if we went around to Lee Vining and looked for rare birds?"

"If you are serious, my brother will lend us his RV and we can camp." We were exchanging noncommittal glances, but some emotion was flowing.

"I have a substitute assignment going on right now, what about week after next?"

Not quite believing a five minute conversation was getting me a trip with this special woman, I looked at her and said, "I would really like that. Let's go to lunch on Friday and talk about details. My treat."

"No, if you are providing the camping equipment, I am doing the food and buying lunch too." Her eyes were dancing. She emphasized 'equipment' as though it was a private joke between us. For me, at least, the aloofness was melting.

Ten days later, on a sunny warm morning, we were cruising down the highway on the east side of the Sierra with twenty-five feet of RV behind us. Marian had a big smile on her face and said, "This is fun! I've always looked down on the RV crowd, but it has its virtues, doesn't it?"

"My brother says if you keep the RV park directory handy, and think ahead a bit, it can be very pleasant. Just don't plan on stopping or turning around any old place!"

"Are girls on a first date with you allowed to drive it?" Her smile was getting my juices going. I asked myself what goes on between a 51 year old man and a 42 year old female on a first date. Time would tell.

Marian said, "We could detour to that gold mining town for lunch if you think the RV will take some gravel road."

"That's a great idea. I haven't been to Bodie since I was a kid."

After a dusty stretch of gravel road, I parked on a rise above the abandoned town that once held ten thousand miners. The view south to the Mono Lake basin, and east into the Nevada desert, was spectacular. I got out the camp chairs and a folding table while Marian unpacked the lunch.

"Would you like me to open some wine or get you a beer?" I inquired

She gazed up at me from her canvas chair, looking very comfortable. "The wine and the altitude will put me to sleep in no time. Have you decided where this luxury vehicle is going to spend the night?"

"Let's skip the alcohol while we ponder that important question." I got lemonade from the refrigerator and brought two glasses out. Marian had her binoculars and was looking down at Mono Lake. "I can almost see the birding platform at the northern end of the lake. Do we get to go there this afternoon?" She looked at me and smiled. I leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose.

"You made a wonderful choice getting us this far. I'm content to have you navigate. Feels reassuring, somehow, to have a librarian in charge of where I'm going."

She reached over and ran her fingers through my hair. "You are just funning me, Jeff Martin. If I couldn't see Mono Lake right in front of me, I wouldn't have a clue where we were or where to go." She smiled and almost giggled as she took another bite of roasted tomato and avocado sandwich. I could get used to gourmet chow in the mountains.

I pulled out my iPhone. "Do you have one of these?"

"No. Should I?"

I handed it to her. "Read me what it says."

"It says Google Maps wants to use your current location."

"Say ok."

"Oh my. It's showing me Mono Lake and it has this pulsing blue thing. Is that us?"

"Yep. Hard to stay lost with GPS gadgets like that phone."

She got up and came to sit in my lap. "Will you show me about all this if I'm nice to you?"

"You are already nice to me. Look at this fantastic lunch."

"Well, I could find ways to be nicer."

I hugged her and went to kiss her cheek, but got her lips instead. A long slow passionate kiss.

"What did I do to deserve that? This is only a first date."

"For a first date, you are doing a lot to impress me. I understand that women who remember the bases from their teenage years are considered hopelessly out of it."

"You don't feel out of it to me. I just got a nice kiss, and even promises of more delights if I help you learn some new technology."

"Yes, more delights. Are we going to fool around up here, or are we going down there and watch birds?"

We gathered up the lunch things and I started off, grinding down slowly through town and following more dirt road into a side canyon to the south. No signs, no railings, just a steep grade and tight curves.

"I don't see this on the road map." Her voice had an unhappy edge to it as we bounced around another tight corner.

"Look on the map on the phone."

"Yes, I see a very tiny line headed toward the lake. Is that what we are doing?"

"Yes. All of us Martin boys know the backcountry roads."

She saw through me in an instant. "If you roll this thing, your brother is going to be very unhappy."

"Yes. He has a vicious streak from time to time."

She let me concentrate on the road, but muttered under her breath about male ego. In just a few minutes more, we were out in the open at the bottom of the grade.

"Are you going to tell me the truth about this route?"

"Only if you promise not to beat me."

"If we see a murrelet, you are off the hook."

I found the parking lot with no trouble and we hiked to the platform, which jutted inconspicuously into the edge of the lake.

An hour's watching got us a list of birds, but no murrelet. She said, "They are ocean birds, really. They even have webbed feet. But they nest in trees, mostly within easy reach of the coast. So a murrelet here is rare."

As we walked back to the RV in lengthening shadows, she asked, "Are we still undecided about where to stop?"

"Let me show you a possibility and see what you think." About a mile away and a little higher up, there was an empty lot across from several houses. I could drive straight in and out, and the view was great.

"Here? Really?"

"A friend of my brother's owns one of those houses. The RV's been here before. I wasn't sure whether you would like it with sand and sagebrush all around."

She leaned over and kissed me again. "There! That's for getting us down that awful grade and finding such a nice spot to spend the night."

I pulled her down into my lap and tried another kiss.

"Are you being fresh?" She stuck her tongue in my mouth and explored.

"I thought french kisses were not allowed?"

"Play later, cook now. Fix us a drink."

We sipped some oakey Chardonnay and I chopped vegetables as the stir fry took shape. The shadows of the Sierra peaks lengthened over the lake, spotlighting the black volcanic island at the east end.

She asked, "Does being divorced make you gunshy about women?"

"I wouldn't be here if I was. My wife was never happy that I didn't have a regular job.We drifted apart and a guy at work started chasing her. That was it. Do you have lost loves in your past?"

She took a sip of wine and smiled at me. "I was married at twenty and widowed at twenty-one. He was in an Army vehicle on maneuvers and it overturned. Took me a while to get over, especially since I was pregnant with Sarah. I put a lot of energy into finishing school. Got coerced into looking after my grandparents and they left everything to me when they died. I live in their house on the income from their trust. Small, quiet existence."

I watched the darkness creep across the lake basin, thinking of small, quiet lives.

"I look at you and see an attractive woman who should be doing something more exciting. Maybe my job is to light your fire."

She gave me a hard stare. "That is a terribly corny line. You couldn't pick up a teenager with that one."

I went over and stood behind her at the sink. She was stiff under my hands. I wrapped my arms around her and caressed her breasts. "I think there is some fire in you. These are teenage tits, if we are talking about teenagers."

She moved around in my embrace. Her behind rubbed on me. She could tell I was hard. "You are making me wet. Doesn't that put out fires?" She giggled.

"Female juice is incendiary."

"OMG, you are so bad. I've let myself get trapped in the wilderness with a horny writer and he is killing me with words."

My fingers worked on her neck and shoulder muscles. My tongue licked her ear and worked around to her lips. She turned and pressed into me. We kissed and rocked back and forth. The bed was only a few feet away.

"Which do you want more, me or dinner?" She was smiling and laughing again.

"I could stand here and help."

"You will pour me some more wine and sit down."

The dinner was good. We were both hungry. Looking out the window at the lake and the few lights in Lee Vining to the south took the place of talking.

I put the dishes in the sink and said, "Let's have a walk and I'll cleanup later."

She took my hand as we strolled in the crisp desert air under a blanket of stars. "Being over here always excites me. These mountains have ruled for millions of years. Their snow waters the desert and provides food for all the creatures who survive the heat, cold and drought."

"You admire creatures with toughness?"

"I do. Think of the early humans who came here. The Indians finding their way on foot, gathering nuts. The first European men, who came thousands of miles, exploring for riches, living off the land."

"Are you tough enough to put on a pack and hike the trails and passes?"

"I've thought about it. Seems like a lot of work for not enough return. Are you a Sierra hiker?"

"My father was an oil geologist who hiked here for relaxation. He took us along when we were kids. My younger self had the same reaction you do, not enough return. But maybe we are missing something. Maybe our fire doesn't burn bright enough."

She leaned over and kissed me. "We are back to fire, are we?"

Writers, and maybe librarians too, lead a singular existence. You have to be comfortable in your own skin, as the saying goes. You have to have enough inner drive to survive the rough spots. I thought of the prospectors out here a hundred years ago. Wanting to be alone, wanting to find a bonanza of their own. A mostly demented quest.

"You are quiet."

"Do you mind?"

"No. It's peaceful. You are comfortable to be around, even if dangerous."

We stood in the chill, arms around each other's backs.

She nuzzled under my chin and said, "Take me back and make dangerous love to me."

There were curtains in the RV but she said to leave them because she liked the view and we could undress in the dark.

I sat on the bed and wrapped my arms around her waist. I eased her underwear down. She smelled like woman. I was hard. She dropped her shirt and bra, and pushed me back. I rolled us over and pulled up covers. The bed was cold.

"Can we warm up?"

"You want some tea with brandy?"

"Later. I want you first." She put my hand in her crotch, which was soft and moist. Her hand found my erection and stroked me.

"I haven't done this in a while."

"I will be especially rough on you. You said I was dangerous."

"Shut up and get in me."

Her cunt was special. Tight, slippery, squeezing me. I drove harder, getting coupled tight. She made a little groaning noise. I pulled back and thrust firmly. She humped up at me. "More."

I had been anxious about this. Flirting is fun, doing it unleashes other feelings. Little worries about performance, about discovering compatibility, or not.

We were compatible. "Hurry, I need to come."

I was giving her my best when she shouted a loud 'Yes' and came hard. I wasn't there and decided a second round would be fine.

"I needed that. I guess you could tell."

"I guessed there was fire beneath the covers."

"Your cock performs better than your mouth." She kissed me hard.

I got her a towel to cleanup with and turned on a small light to make tea. She lay there and watched me, my floppy cock still wet. "Wipe that thing. You are getting juice where it doesn't belong."

I handed her both cups and climbed back in. Our hips were joined, our lips were exchanging tastes of brandy infused tea. She draped an arm around my neck and hummed.

"Do we get to do that again?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

She leaned over me and put her empty cup on the floor.

I ran fingers down her bare back. "How does a woman your age stay trim?"

"You work at it. You do exercises, calorie counts, take up running or biking or swimming."

Her behind was tight and muscular. I palmed her globes. "What kind of muscle is this?"

"Swimming. There is an exercise center near my house. I do half an hour in the pool almost every morning."

"I'm going to revise my opinion of you. You don't just have fire, you have fiery determination."

"I'm not fiery now, I'm going to sleep."

The mountain air and altitude crashed us both.

A coyote yipping somewhere nearby woke us up. The clock's red numerals said 4:05. She was nestled into my front and felt good. I wrapped my arm around her chest and nibbled at the place where her shoulder and neck came together.

"We went to sleep too early, didn't we?"

Her hand was around my cock, which was rising to the occasion. "Someone is awake."

I got up to pee. She followed and sat in front of me. I fumbled in my toilet kit and found what I wanted.

"Hold out your hand." I put a good squeeze of my love lotion in her palm. "Put that in yourself and on me."

After she wiped, I led her by the hand to the kitchenette table with the window looking at the lake. I kissed the side of her face and gently pushed down on her back. She realized what was coming and relaxed. I nudged her legs further apart and easily found my way inside. My sister gave me the lotion and said women liked it. Marian was pushing back on me, testing it out. The feeling was great. I asked, "Ok?"

"Where did you get that?"

"My sister. Told me it helped her have great orgasms."

"In the dark, with wild animals right outside, at 4 am?"

I didn't say anything but went to work with energetic pumping in her. The kind you use on orgasmic women.

The damn stuff was going to make me come. The question was whether Marian would. One moment she was still passive and the next moment her button had been pushed and I had a live, jerking female with a foul tongue in my hands. "There you go again, seducing innocent women you have lured to the mountains with promises of bird watching!"

She'd hardly finished those words when a great shudder went through her and she cried out, "Oh fuck, I'm coming."

Doggy style gives the man a great chance to blast away right into her cervix, which I did. She clenched at me and said, "Doesn't he ever stop?"

I was still panting, holding her in a death grip.

I walked us back to the toilet and let her drain. Her head rested on my belly. "You are a bastard. A fucking early morning bastard." She laughed and used two tissues to get our stuff off me. Before I could react, she took it into her mouth, sucking and tonguing. I played with her hair and told her I loved her.

We needed to get under the covers and warm up. "Love is a dangerous word."

"I told you I was dangerous."

"How could you know that, we've only been close to each other for one day."

"Go to sleep. Love can be patient."

The next time we woke up, the sun was slanting across the lake into our eyes.

I rolled her in my direction and gently went after the white breast with the stiff nipple in front of me.

"I don't think I've been in bed all night with a man more than two or three times in my life."

I hummed.

"The desert sun is on me, your long hair is in my face, and my pussy is wet and tingling."

"Life must not be all bad. You are not allowed out of bed yet. What kind of eggs do you want? This is be nice to your favorite librarian week."

Breakfast in bed is great, especially with a hot woman next to you. She spilled butter from her toast on a boob and I went after it. This led to kissing and wrestling, which lead to a nice fuck which lead to several more orgasms for her.

"This is bad. You are getting to me. Like it says in the chick lit novels, my body is betraying me. Come here again."

We lay there in the morning sun, coupled up. Marian was on top whispering to me. "I thought I was going on a birding trip with a friend. Instead, you've got me in this romantic nest, changing my whole life around, talking love at me. My head is spinning. Maybe I will fall for you."

She squeezed me, rolled us over and said to be rough with her.

I was. I slapped the side of her breast hard. I pinched both nipples. I turned us over and beat on her ass as hard as I could until she screamed and squirted on me and I blasted into her one more time.

She cried. I said, "I'm sorry." She said, "It's my fault. I closed men out of my life and now you dynamited your way back in. You are a nasty fucker and I think I love you." She cried harder and I just lay there and held on to her.

I turned on the generator to make hot water and run the microwave. She got her quick shower and looked at me as she toweled off. "You have old shorts on. We are going hiking, aren't we? Even after what you said."

"Think of it as an uplifting experience. Have you ridden second seat on the motorcycle before?"

"Heaven's no. Only sluts ride bikes."

"You are about to be a slut. We have my brother's small, low powered bike in the back. Let's leave this monster here."

I dug in my duffel and threw another old pair of shorts at her. "Try these. Probably fit better without underwear."

She was speechless, but pulled them on. Tight across her ass. I loved them on her instantly.

"I get your tee shirt too?" She was pulling a seamless sports bra over her head, and said, "These do not get to flop around in the outdoors. If you want teenage tits, I have to take care of them."