The Librarian

Aria had been working at the library for over a year. She had majored in English with the intent of becoming a writer, but her professor's words kept haunting her. "Write about what you know," he would constantly say. But the problem was, Aria didn't know much. She wanted to follow in the footsteps of the great romance novelists, but every time she sat at her computer she froze; her love life was completely boring. Sure she had dated and had had sex, but nothing worth writing about. So she had taken a job at the local library. It wasn't anything overly exciting, but it paid the bills.

Exactly a month ago, however, everything started to change. One month ago, she had found a fancy envelope on her desk addressed to her. Inside, there was a poem, the first one that week. The following week, she found a new envelope each day. Each note paid homage to different part of her body. It made her feel beautiful and desired. Week number three brought a new box of chocolate each day and a single flower, but no note.

Week four was a game changer. Each day there was a new, beautifully wrapped box on her desk. Inside, a gift. On Monday, it was an expensive looking white silk blouse. On Tuesday, a charcoal pencil skirt. On Wednesday, a pair of black fuck me heels. On Thursday, beige silk stockings. On Friday, a sinful panty and bra set that made her blush. Her cheeks heated up even further when she saw an envelope under the lingerie. With shaky hands, she had opened it and found a single sentence written in a manly script. "Wear it all on Saturday".

She had placed the entire outfit on display in her bedroom. Once it was finally completed, on Friday night, she admired it. Running her fingers over the soft materials, she couldn't help but wonder how he had gotten every size perfectly. She tried once again to figure out who it may be but couldn't. Whoever it was, he had to have observed her closely.

Saturday morning can't come soon enough, she though over and over as she struggled to fall asleep.

When it finally came, she was surprised to find yet another box, this time much smaller, on her desk. Inside the box, she found a blindfold and a note. The new note had clear instructions once again. She was to stand in the most secluded corner of the library, blindfolded. She knew she should be afraid, but all she felt was aroused.

She lost track of time as she stood between the dusty stacks of books, her eyes alert to the smallest of sounds since she couldn't see. Every time she heard footsteps, her pussy got a bit wetter. After what seemed like forever, the steps got louder and she knew it had to be him.

"Such a good girl," a deep, booming voice said.

"Thank you..." She said, fishing for a name.

"You can just call me Sir for now, gorgeous," he replied, stepping closer. She could now feel the heat emanating from his body. He was a rather large man. And he smelled of expensive cologne. She was using all her other senses to get a clue, so she reached out to touch him.

"You don't get to touch me today, darling," he whispered, catching her hand before it could make contact with his chest. Before she could even protest, he caught her other wrist, holding both behind her back with a single hand. After a bit, she could feel him tying them up with a soft material.

"Why?" she whimpered.

"Because you're here for me. To please me. I gave you all these presents, so now I'm the one getting a present," he replied, just before he stepped back.

"But..." she began but he interrupted.

"Do I need to gag you too?"

His tone was rough and she had no doubt he would. That just made her already soaked pussy even wetter.

"No, Sir."

"Good girl," he replied and she could hear the smile in his voice.

She could feel his gaze roaming her body. Where his eyes focused, her skin heat up. Her nipples were rock hard and clearly visible through the flimsy fabric and the lace bra.

"I prefer your hair down," he growled as he undid her bun, her long, silky brown waves falling down to her back.

"Touch me, Sir," she begged with the smallest of voices. The anticipation was beginning to be too much, and if he didn't touch her soon, she'd spontaneously combust.

Without really touching her, he undid the buttons on her blouse, exposing her silk covered 36Ds. "You'll get touched when I want to touch you," he replied, but soon she heard him swear under his breath. That made her smile. He liked what he saw.

Maybe if she teased him, he'd touch her faster. She couldn't move much with her bound hands, and her pussy was still covered, so all she had were her boobs. Arching her back in a seemingly innocent way, she pushed the heavy breasts towards him, presenting them to him in the hopes he'd be tempted enough to taste the warm, needy flesh.

"I know what you're doing," he chastised. She wasn't entirely hopeless because she could hear the desire in his voice.

"I'm not doing anything, sir" she replied, the sarcasms clear on her voice when she spoke the title.

Her smile soon turned into a moan as his hand came down and smacked her left breast. Hard. She had never been spanked before and had no idea how...good it felt. Her breast stung but her nipple was rock hard.

"Bad girls get punished," he whispered in her ear as he slid his hand up her thigh and under the crotch of her panties, finding her warm, wet, center. "Naughty girls get soaked when they are punished."

"They do, sir," she moaned as he rubbed her sensitive clit. She felt so close to cumming and he had barely touched her. He slid a finger into her and she yelped. He smacked the other breast this time and her moan was loud.

"Be quiet, baby. Do you want people to find out we are here? Do you want the fun to be over?" She just shook her head, too afraid to make nose.

"Good girl," he whispered as he slid a second finger in. "Fuck, you're tight."

She just shut her eyes and moved against his fingers, relishing any kind of touch he deemed appropriate. She was needy and with the second move of her hips against his fingers, she was cumming harder than she had in a long time, her pussy spasming around his fingers, wishing it were milking a cock instead.

"You didn't ask to cum, babygirl," he whispered angrily, and before she knew what was happening, he had his fingers out of her and she was now facing the shelves, bent over.

"Sir..." she started, but he quickly brought his hand down on her ass in a loud smack that would surely leave a mark.

"Good. Girls. Ask. For. Permission. To. Cum." he growled, each word a hard and loud smack that had her ass sore and her pussy more soaked than in should.

Before she could say anything, his hard cock was sliding into her soaked sex. Bare. Hard. Deep. In one thrust. He held it there for a while, as if reveling in the feeling of her tight, wet pussy. She thought it was heavenly. The position and his massive cock had her feeling full and in bliss. But once he started to move, she felt real bliss, so much so that he had to cover her mouth to keep her quiet.

His thrusts were hard, fast, full of purpose and skill. It was honestly the best sex of her life and she couldn't care less she didn't know who was in her. In fact, the mystery added appeal and she soon was cumming again. He quickly followed, filling her with cum with a loud grunt. He pulled out, zipped up his trousers.

"Same time next week, baby," he said and simply left, leaving her there, blindfolded, bound and with cum dripping down her thighs.