The Library

Part Four of the Bob and Ellen story.

Bob intently studied the spreadsheet displayed on the two large screens in front of him. Something wasn't right about the numbers; he tried various things but couldn't get the budget on this account to come out correctly, and nothing seemed to make sense. Then, he got a strange-looking text from an unknown number.

"Come to the Old Library at 6:00 pm sharp. Go to the fourth floor, aisle three, and pull out book number 613.9." The Librarian.

That makes a little sense, he thought. His wife, Ellen, used to go by the nickname the Librarian before they met because she was so bookish and kept to herself. She hated the name, and it was odd she was using it unless someone who knew her was playing with him and wanting a hookup, but that was extremely unlikely and would go absolutely nowhere. She knew enough hackers at work that could disguise her phone and do something sneaky like this.

Perhaps she wanted a date night or something? The Old Library had gone upscale to attract more patrons and had a nice little bistro downstairs. Maybe she wanted to meet before they had dinner. Ellen hadn't given any clues she was up to anything since the encounter where he caught her 'pleasuring' herself. They had gone on with life, and he was waiting for her to make the next move sexually when she felt the time was right. This could be the night, but she hadn't given any clues about where that may go.

He returned to his spreadsheet and would put a reminder in his phone. Bob had a revelation about the spreadsheet. I know what I did wrong, he thought, excited and forgetting about the reminder. He became immersed in his work until he almost had the problem fixed when he looked and saw it was 6:15 pm. 'Oh shit! I was supposed to be there at 6:00.' He responded to the previous text, "I don't have a good excuse; I'm running late and leaving now." He closed his laptop and flew out the door.

The Old Library was the main library until they built a new one at the heart of the urban development. Reaching his destination, out of breath and wishing he wasn't late, he sprinted up the front steps and found the staircase. 'What floor was that? Crap, the fourth floor.' The worn wooden steps creaked under his heavy steps into the fourth-floor vestibule.

Only half the main lights were on, and the few people there were illuminated by the cubby hole they were in. His eyes got accustomed to the low light, and he made his way to aisle 3, Book 613.9. He removed the book and saw the title, "The Joy of Sex." 'Ha! This is going to be fun, I bet!' Something was stuffed inside; a woman's thin brassiere fell out along with a note. He quickly picked it up before anyone saw him and smelled his wife's perfume. The message read: 'Since you are late, you have a lot to make up for. Go to the fifth floor, aisle eight and find the book 'FicLaw.' FicLaw? What the heck is that?

Still out of breath and wondering what he would find, he climbed the steps to the fifth floor. A sign on the door said, 'Closed for cleaning' with a hand-written Post-It Note and familiar handwriting underneath, "Lock the door." Since the note said to go there, and if it was open, he was going in.

He opened the door and locked it. The lights were off except for a couple of cubicles. He turned on his phone light, went to aisle eight and found FicLaw at the end of the aisle. "Lady Chatterley's Lover," by D.H. Lawrence, was a little old-school erotic fiction, but he liked where this was going. He pulled it out, and some of the pages were stuck together. Bob opened it, and the scent of his wife's perfume and a woman's wetness got his attention. He almost laughed out loud when he thought about the next person to take the book out and the look on their face when they opened it.

Looking down, he saw the scantiest panties hanging from a book. Not only could he smell it, but he could see the damp stain in the crotch. He instinctively put them to his nose, making him rock-hard, and he had to fidget a good bit to be comfortable.

He put the panties in his pocket, but the aroma of her lilac and rose perfume lingered as he went around the back of the aisle. Or was it stronger? Ah, now he understood! Like a bloodhound on the hunt, he would have to smell his way to the prize. The study room where he arrived was pitch dark, and the scent was intense.

After he entered, the voice in the darkness said, "You're lucky I stayed this late. You are going to have to really perform now." He could barely make out her figure sitting in a chair, her long coat open. His eyes acclimated to the dark; she was naked, fondling her breasts, and firmly rubbing her nipples.

"Holy Shit, Ellen! He said. "We're going to get caught and go to jail! I can't believe you're doing this!"

"No, we aren't," she giggled, "but that's half the fun, isn't it? I've been scouting this for a couple of weeks. The cleaning crew leaves at 6:00 and puts the sign on the back of the door. I moved it to the front so no one will come in."

"But I can't see anything."

"That's part of the fun, too. You'll have to use all of your senses to imagine what it looks like. Now, get on your hands and knees, and atone for being late."

He got on all fours as instructed. Ellen spread her legs, and a wave of scent engulfed him; a mixture of her, her perfume, fine old leather and hardwood floors made his heart beat wildly. Ellen put a stiletto heel on his chest to stop him from proceeding.

"What's up?"

"You have to pay for all of the 'Librarian' insults and stereotypes you harbored."

"Hey, that wasn't me! I never said anything about that," he almost pleaded.

"You didn't disagree with them, I assume."

"Not exactly..."

"That's my point. I may not be a 'librarian,' but I will stand up for those interested in reading and expanding our knowledge, instead of wasting our time at parties and worrying about what 'influencers' are doing. We don't spend every minute on TikTok and Instagram. Do you know why we are sexier and better in bed than other women, Bob? It's because we are smart and have an imagination from reading so much. We turn that into a reality you have only fantasized about. Okay, you can get to work on this." One well-manicured finger pointed to her spread legs, indicating her expectation.

Bewildered and only able to see an outline, Bob put his head forward until his cheeks touched each leg. She spread her thighs wider as he got to her wetness but made a detour to barely lick her outer folds.

Since he couldn't see well, he had to find her pink slit with his tongue and raise and grab her ass cheeks with both hands. He traced her entire perimeter as his thumbs widened her even more. She bucked forward, but he held back, not allowing her to be satisfied yet. He worked his way inward, tracing the outline of her inner folds. He made it to the top to suck gently on her clitoris.

Ellen was thrashing around hard. "Don't stop; I'm going to come!" She repeated the phrase she had heard in a porn clip. He plunged his tongue into her while she rubbed her love button between her fingers. She grabbed his hair, pulling him forcefully into her as she yelled, "Holy Fuck!!" With a sound reverberating throughout the floor, she flooded his face with her juices as he gasped for breath.

After catching her breath more than a few minutes later, she said, "While you've been working late every night, I've been getting ideas. What do you think?" It was typical of her; when researching a subject, she tackled it analytically until she was satisfied she knew it well. She wasn't called the Librarian for nothing.

"Do you know what I am going to do for you?" She asked.

"I have absolutely no idea if you will send me to the moon or let me hang out to dry!!!"

"Have you heard the term 'suck a golf ball through a garden hose?' You are going to find out if my practice will pay off."

Bob couldn't imagine what she had been 'practicing' on, but she certainly had his attention and, at this point, would do anything to find out. Ellen rose and put her hand out to help him up. She kneeled on the floor, her face in line with the straining bulge in his pants. He started to unbuckle his belt, but Ellen slapped his hand. "I will be doing that!" She said, unfastening his belt and trousers, roughly pulling everything to the floor.

"Uh, Ellen, what are you doing?" Bob questioned, his very hard cock almost touching her face.

"I'm going to suck your cock until you come in my mouth," she said.

Bob, through all his fervent emotions, could hardly believe this. His wife rarely talked dirty or took the initiative, and it was more than his horny mind could process. Ellen didn't like to perform orally and made it clear early in their relationship that she would never let him finish like there.

Ellen took his shaft in her hand and, using her tongue, firmly licked the underside of the head of his hardness. Bob let out a loud moan, thoroughly enjoying himself. Ellen knew her husband, and since he was already moaning, she didn't have long before he finished. She engulfed him in her mouth, swirling her around the head and stroking him with her hand.

Having decided she would perform this well, she savored the intimate feeling of her partner's manhood in her mouth. She felt the power that his erotic pleasure depended on what she was doing. 'Boy, you are mine now,' she thought.

She briefly removed him for just a few seconds. "Bob, look at me. Can you see how much I want you to come?" She said as her eyes met his. Ellen went back to work and thought, 'here comes the difficult part.' She opened her throat and let his cock slide to the back while her eyes watered, and she hoped not to gag. Slowly, she managed to do it successfully this first time.

Bob, amazed at what was happening, the immense sensation of the head of his cock straining against the back of her throat. Instinctively, he carefully put his hand on her head to hold her a little harder. Ellen, who wasn't sure if she could do this, pulled back, then stroked and sucked harder. Feeling a different sensation, Bob couldn't hold any longer and warned Ellen of the impending torrent of fluid with a loud "AAAHHHH!" and "I'm coming!" He had an incredible orgasm, spurting a copious amount into her mouth.

This time, Ellen didn't try to get her mouth away quickly, instead letting him finish inside her. Worried she may gag at the taste, she let it drip down his still-staunch member onto the floor. Bob, who was dizzy due to lack of bloodflow, steadied himself holding onto her shoulders. Minutes passed as he recovered from his semi-conscious state until his legs strengthened, and he could stand on his own. Ellen decided the taste wasn't so bad after all. "I think I could get used to this!" Always the planner, she had plenty of towels and wipes available for them to clean up.

Motivated to prove Bob wrong, Ellen asked, "Do you think that qualifies as 'interesting' sex?"