Stacked

My name is Lilith and I'm a librarian. No, I'm not a librarian like Noah Wyle in the movies of almost two decades ago. I'm a plain, schoolmarm librarian who dresses conservatively and wears her hair in a bun with a pencil stuck in it. A disappearing breed.

I'm twenty-eight years old. Most people who meet me think I'm at least a dozen years older. A reasonable conclusion since I'm the supervising librarian of an extensive collection of artifacts, some over a thousand years old, in a four story, marble columned, Neoclassical building on the campus of a pretentious university with an endowment larger than the national debt.

Except for the two student interns, everyone on my staff is older than I am. Most people find that unusual, that as the youngest staff member, I'm the supervising librarian. It's not that mysterious. When the former supervisor retired, none of the rest of the staff wanted the administrative responsibilities and I was not the quickest to offer my similar reluctance. I love working in the library but I also didn't want the supervisor responsibility. The vacancy occurred while I was attending a national conference and my appointment was announced by the university before I could register my reluctance to serve. That I had received a doctorate in Library Science at the university was a significant factor in my selection. To maintain harmony, I accepted the position at the salary offered.

It hasn't been all that bad. I'm less demanding than my predecessor and I have the respect of the rest of the staff in spite of my youth. There is one other difference between me and my coworkers, I'm a virgin.

While that seems unlikely, even impossible, in today's world, there's a reasonable explanation for my inexperience. My parents were paranoid about protecting me. I am their only child. My mother was sexually assaulted as a teen and vowed to protect me from a similar experience.

Throughout my youth, continuing into my teen years and through high school, she closely monitored my activities and my friends, none of whom were boys. With a limited social life, I turned to entertaining myself and the source was books. I read thirty to forty novels a year, mostly from the township library. I bonded with the library and the mostly women who ran it. It was a no brainer to pursue library science in college and the rest is history.

Some of you may think that the absence of sexual activity in my life would be a burden. It never felt like a burden. I didn't read romance novels or sought pornography on the internet, so the absence of something I'd never experienced was never a concern, until recently. I should note that my reading interests are varied and wide, including biology. I'm not unaware of the activities surrounding sex even if I haven't experienced them.

The library is a well attended facility on campus. That is somewhat surprising given that most students do most of their research on the internet. Google is easier to navigate than our archaic card catalogue. We have an extensive reading room and many students use the space to study away from the noise, interruptions and parties in the dorms. We also have several dozen, internet connected computers in a separate room where students can Google anything without leaving tracks leading back to their personal computers.

With my non-existent social life, I spend most days in the library. My routine is to sleep late and work the late mornings, afternoons and evenings. One afternoon about four months ago, I think it was a Tuesday, I became curious about two stacks of books next to each other on one of the tables in the reading room. It appeared that two students were planning to study together. They claimed places at one of the tables in the reading room and left their materials on the table. But where were the students?

Curious, I wandered the building looking for the students. On the second balcony, near the dusty legal reference books, I heard what sounded like suppressed voices and quiet laughter deep in the stacks. Being careful not to make any sounds of my own, I crept up to the head of the aisle and peeked around the corner.

What I saw shocked me. It took enormous effort not to react and interrupt the couple deep between the stacks. They were young. Obviously undergraduate students. They were embracing, kissing each other passionately. The female's shirt was unbuttoned and pulled from her skirt. Her bra was pushed up over her breasts and her male companion was aggressively palming her naked left breast in his right hand.

The female's right hand pushed just as aggressively against the crotch of the male's trousers. While I watched, my hand over my mouth to suppress any sound, the female unzipped the male's fly, fished around inside his trousers with her right hand and extracted his erect penis. Once exposed, the female held his erection in her hand and knelt in front of him, hungrily sucking his penis into her mouth.

The male leaned forward and held the female's breasts in his hands. He closed his eyes and pushed his hips toward her head as she bobbed on his erection. As I watched, his body stiffened and he began to ejaculate into the female's mouth. I could see the excess semen escaping from her mouth as it surrounded his erection. When he stopped convulsing, the female let his penis drop from her mouth, leaned back, looked into his eyes and swallowed. She was still kneeling in front of him, looking at him with a huge satisfied smile on her face when I decided to retreat silently and return to the first floor.

I hung around the reading room, trying to look busy when the young couple returned to their books on the table and tried to study. I left the room quietly. The students were giving each other adoring looks and I suspected studying was going to be difficult.

What I had observed bothered me the rest of the day and deep into the night. I had more questions than answers. I might have been a virgin but I wasn't uneducated in the mechanics of sex. Why were they having sex in the library? There had to be dozens of other locations on campus for such clandestine activity. I guessed that their respective dorms were too public if they wanted to keep their relationship covert but why the library? Why was the woman using her mouth on the man's penis? It seemed to offer him some satisfaction for him but what was in it for her? And she swallowed his semen. What was that all about?

These questions repeated themselves in my mind but the most mysterious question of all bothered me the most. Why were my panties wet from watching them? And, why was I feeling satisfaction watching them? I should have felt shame watching such a personal and private interaction and I didn't. Instead I felt unusually calm and at ease.

Without conscious thought, I began to look for their books on the reading room table frequently. Was I hoping for a repeat that I could watch again? I refused to answer the question.

The next several days were normal and uninteresting. It was Tuesday of the next week before I spotted the telltale stacks of books on the reading room table. I didn't need to look for the students. I immediately headed for the legal reference section on the second balcony.

I took off my shoes as I approached the same aisle as the previous week and peeked around the corner. They were there, in the same location as before. This time the female's breasts were exposed as before but her skirt was pushed up around her waist. She was standing on one leg with her panties down around one ankle. Her other leg was on her partner's hip, his pants were down around his knees and his genitals were pressed firmly against her genitals. His hips were moving rhythmically against her. It was obvious that he was fucking her.

That was a word I'd heard but never used. In that moment I couldn't think of another way to describe what I was seeing. He was fucking her! Right there in the library! And, she was obviously enjoying it. She was kissing him with abandon and encouraging him.

I watched as her body stiffened, shook and then relaxed, followed by a similar convulsion by her partner. I watched as they slowly separated. She put her other foot on the floor and let her skirt fall back in place. She bent over, organized her panties and pulled them up under her skirt. Then she reached out, took his penis in one hand and removed a sheath from it. She let it dangle, a large deposit causing it to hang between her fingers. She wrapped the item in several tissues and put it in a large purse on the floor beside her.

Meanwhile, her partner was pulling up his underwear and pants. She resettled her breasts in her bra, buttoned her shirt and tucked it into her skirt. She pulled him close and kissed him. I backed away, grabbed my shoes and fled back to the first floor.

I spent the rest of the afternoon in my office. I was confused by what I had seen. Two students were using a remote section of the library to have sex. That in itself wasn't the most serious problem. What bothered me more was my reaction to watching them. My panties got damp the first time I saw them. This afternoon, they were soaked. More than that was my reaction to watching them. At virtually the same moment that the woman had what seemed to be an orgasm, my body shook violently and my panties suddenly collected a quantity of hot excretion.

I had experienced what I thought was an orgasm while occasionally touching myself between my legs but this was different. This time it didn't involve just my genitals. This time it consumed my entire body. Was that what a real orgasm was? Did I have a real orgasm? Was it possible to have an orgasm just watching other people having sex?

It bothered me but not so much that I wouldn't look for them next Tuesday. I wanted, no, I needed to watch them again. I wanted to watch them have sex again and I wanted to feel again what I felt when I watched them. There were only two potential problems with that. First, I was assuming the couple was having a regular Tuesday meeting among the law books. Two Tuesdays in a row guaranteed a third Tuesday, didn't it?

Second, was the uncomfortable mess I had in my panties. The longer I sat at my desk, the colder and messier it got. Maybe I shouldn't wear panties next Tuesday. Nobody would know. However, I risked the mess running down my thighs and potentially dripping on the floor. Someone would surely notice. I had to think about it.

I went to work early the next Tuesday. I wandered aimlessly most of the morning, somehow managing to check the reading room every ten minutes or so. I was at the service desk when I noticed a young man and woman, carrying books, enter the library. I recognized them immediately. I managed to contain my reaction.

I gave them a few minutes in the reading room before I checked. Their books were on a table but they were nowhere to be seen. I hurried to the stairs and climbed expectantly to the second balcony. I left my shoes at the top of the stairs and moved silently to my observation point. Carefully, I peeked around the corner.

The woman was bent over with her hands on her knees and her skirt over her back. Her panties were on the floor next to her. The guy was standing behind her, his pants around his ankles. They were moving together as he repeatedly pushed inside her. There was only one difference. Her eyes were open and she was facing me.

Her eyes opened wide when she saw me.

I froze. When I didn't react, she also managed to control her reaction. She put a finger to her lips, indicating that I should keep quiet, and smiled. She nodded her head. Apparently she was okay with me watching.

I looked up at the guy. His head was back and his eyes closed as he focused his energy on fucking the woman. He wouldn't notice me any time soon so I watched. The woman watched me watching her. When her body quivered with her orgasm my body did the same. My panties filled with hot fluid again.

She noticed and almost laughed. She beckoned me to approach her. Her partner was so involved in chasing his own orgasm that he never noticed me. When I stopped in front of her, she indicated I should come even closer. I moved closer until I was almost touching her. She reached up, under my skirt and dipped her fingers under my panties and into the hot volume of fluid. When she removed her fingers and put them into her mouth, my body quivered again and I moaned.

Her partner's eyes shot open with the sound of an unfamiliar voice. He yelled, "Oh, fuck," when he saw me, backed out of her and tried to pull up his pants.

The woman stood up, turned around and exclaimed, "Jake. Jake. It's all right. She's all right. Calm down."

"But, but, but," was all Jake managed to utter.

"It's okay," repeated the woman. "She's not going to tell on us."

She turned to me. "You're not, are you?" she asked.

I was stunned by the situation. Hypnotized? Was it possible to be hypnotized watching someone else have sex? I was now part of something bigger than me. Bigger than the three of us. I was part of the conspiracy to have sex in the library. "No," I managed to say. "I won't tell."

"I'm Rene and this is Jake," she introduced themselves. "Do you have a name?"

"Lilith," I squeaked out.

"Hi Lilith," she said. "Welcome."

She turned to Jake. "There's nothing to worry about," she told him. Push those pants back down and show Lilith your junk," she insisted.

Jake seemed as bewildered as I was but compliant. "Okay," he mumbled and he pushed his pants down to his knees. His glistening erection pointed straight out in front of him.

"Pretty nice, right?" Rene said to me. "He's not at full erection but it's still pretty impressive."

I nodded my agreement.

Rene removed the condom from Jake's erection. "You can touch it if you want," Rene informed me.

"When I didn't move, she insisted, "Go ahead. Touch it. Feel it in your hand."

When I still didn't react, she asked, "You never done this before, have you?"

I nodded almost imperceptibly. "I'm a virgin," I whispered so only she could hear.

"Got it," Rene responded. "Take your time."

Almost in a daze, I reached out and held Jake's penis. I stroked it a few times. It grew larger almost immediately.

"He likes that," stated Rene. "He knows how to use it too," she added. "Don't you Jake?"

"I'll take your word for it," Jake said.

"He's modest too," said Rene.

She turned to me. "I'm sure he'd like to demonstrate his skills to you," she said. "Would you like that?"

I was paralyzed with fear and longing and the longing was winning. I was holding a live erection in my hand. My body was quivering with excitement. My panties were wetter than ever. I don't remember saying "yes" but Rene was saying "good."

She reached under my dress. "Let me help you get these panties off," she said.

I didn't resist as Rene removed my panties. I lifted each leg to help her and my panties landed with a splat next to hers on the floor. I was a quivering mess. Was I going to let this man whose name I had known for less than two minutes fuck me? "YES," screamed my brain silently.

"Turn around and bend over," suggested Rene, "and I'll help Jake."

I did as she instructed. I felt Rene lift my skirt over my hips and then I felt Rene sliding Jake's erection up and down between my labia. I almost fainted when she placed the head of his erection at the opening of my vagina and he pushed inside me.

Rene steadied me. "Go slow, Jake," she said. "Let Lilith get used to you."

My body transitioned from quivering to shaking and I pushed back against Jake. "I think she's okay now," said Rene.

Jake put his hands on my hips and began to slide in and out of me. My world came to an end. The universe exploded around me. Super novae exploded in front of my eyes, my vagina contracted and hot liquid squeezed out alongside Jake's erection. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth. Rene put her hand over my mouth before I could scream. Seconds later, Jake stiffened and expelled his own hot liquid deep inside me. The heat of his semen spread through my body and I broke into a sweat as Jake slid out of me. Rene helped me sit on the floor where I shook until the flood of endorphins and adrenaline wore off.

"Are you okay?" asked Rene.

"I'll be fine," I managed to whisper.

When I could stand, Rene handed me some tissues. "You might need these," she said.

I cleaned myself up as best I could and gave the sticky tissues back to Rene. She added them, along with those from Jake and herself, to a plastic bag in her purse. She picked up both pair of panties and handed mine to me. She put on her panties while Jake pulled up his pants and arranged himself.

I held my soaked and cold panties in my hand. I hated putting on a wet bathing suit and there was no way I was going to put this pair of panties back on my body. Rene noticed my reluctance. "I'll take them," she said as she reached for my panties. I gave them to her and they disappeared into another plastic bag in her purse.

Both Rene and Jake hugged me. "Same time next week?" Rene asked.

I nodded. "Same time next week," I echoed, "but not here."

"You have a suggestion?" asked Rene.

"My place," I said.

"Nearby?" she asked.

"Just off campus," I told her. "A short walk."

"Sounds perfect," she said. "Wait here for a few minutes," she suggested and then they left.

Ten minutes later, after practicing my walking in the aisle, I collected my shoes and headed back down stairs. I settled in my office. I stuffed a handful of tissues from a box in my desk between my legs and sat at my desk.

One of the interns knocked and came into my office to ask a question about a project she was working on. When we settled her concerns about her project, she looked at me. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"I felt a little dizzy when I was upstairs," I explained, "but I'm okay now."

"I think you should go home and rest," she suggested.

"You know, I think that's a good idea," I answered. "Thanks for the suggestion."

I left everything on my desk and headed for home

All the way home, I couldn't get my mind off what happened. My thinking cleared as I reached home. My immediate concern was pregnancy. I knew that if you mixed sperm with ova at the wrong time of the month, pregnancy was not just possible, it was probable. I checked my calendar. Relief flooded over me as I discovered that my "friend" was due in the next couple of days. Pregnancy was off the table.

My mind wandered for a moment with my use of the word "friend." Given the circumstances, the use of the word "friend" seemed inappropriate and immature. My period certainly wasn't my friend, especially if I was going to pursue additional encounters with Rene and Jake. I did some research, yes I used Google as much as anyone else, and some math and concluded that I would be safe the next Tuesday as well. After that, I needed to be careful.

The rest of the afternoon and throughout the evening, I replayed the events of the day several times. Every time, I experienced various forms of my overpowering physical reaction. I was exhausted as I fell asleep in my bed. I dreamed about sex during the night. Not always with Jake. I woke early in the morning wondering how sex with someone else might feel.

As I prepared to go to work, I realized that I had set a date with Rene and Jake for the next Tuesday at my home but we hadn't exchanged contact information or my address. Unable to communicate with either of them, I wondered how we were going to manage to meet.

When I arrived at the library, an intern staffing the front desk handed me an envelope with just my name on it in flourishing script in violet ink. "A student was waiting for the library to open this morning," she told me. "She left this for you."

In my office, I opened the envelope and removed a single sheet of paper. I unfolded the paper. There was a series of ten numbers, a short message, "Text me," and signed with an "R" all in violet ink. Obviously Rene's cell phone number.