Unrequited Love?

"You sure you really want this?" she said.

He shook his head, "Not if you don't want me too," he answered.

Her hand extended out over the waste paper basket, dropping the tie inside, amongst the rubbish. She removed his jacket, raising her eyebrows, questioningly.

"Not the jacket, please, not the jacket," he laughed.

"Ok," she laughed with him, "But tomorrow it's a new wardrobe, for both of us."

He hugged her close again, this time his hands drifted down her back pulling her groin tight against his. She ground herself against him for a while then backed away and began unbuttoning his crisp white shirt, before discarding it, dropping it to the floor. He looked, it didn't matter, none of these things mattered anymore. She unbuckled his pants and drew the zipper down; she could feel him already hard for her.

"Undress for me," he whispered.

She smiled and began undressing, her conservative clothes ending up on a pile next to his. Soon she was down to her bra and briefs. She stood back, "Is this what you imagined, fantasized about?" she asked.

He blushed.

"It wasn't, was it?"

He looked at her functional underwear and shook his head.

"Tell me," she implored.

"I imagined red, red lace and a thong," he said, embarrassed.

"Tomorrow we'll buy them," she replied.

He reached out and unclasped her bra; it fell onto the rising pile of clothes.

"Oh God, these are," he gasped, gazing at her full breasts in front of him, reality better than his imagination could ever be.

He bent his head to suckle on her, but she stopped him. Her hand moved to her hips and drew her briefs down, standing naked before him.

"And this?" she said, smiling again at him.

He coloured even more.

"Whatever you want," she said, "Tell me."

"I imagined you... shaven," he muttered, as if he didn't want her to hear.

"I have a razor at the apartment and some foam," she said.

He gulped, "You want me to shave you, there?" he stammered.

"Would you like too?" she asked.

"Fuck, yes," he replied, surprised by his coarse language, "Oh, I'm sorry, I got carried away, forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive, we're new people now, I want you to say what you think, what you feel."

"But the language...I'm sorry." he whispered, terrified that he would loose her over a single word.

She hugged him close, whispering into his ear, "I want you to fuck me. There, is that better for you?" she said, he nodded, the final barrier broken between them.

He took a deep breath, "Suck my cock, please," he said, barely believing his own words.

She sank to her knees in front of him and pulled his boxers to the floor. No fantasy now, inches from her face the real thing, his hard cock, leaking precum already. She licked the end, then pulled her head away to look up at him. A strand of precum stretched from the eye to her lower lip. He groaned as she moved her head back, his cock sliding over her lips and deep into her mouth. She bobbed up and down on him, taking him deeper each time. She stopped, as in her fantasy, she wanted him, elsewhere. She rested back onto the hard floor, no discomfort only anticipation.

He moved his head between her legs, her bush thick and matted with her juices. Tonight she would be bare for him, he would see every fold of her crinkly lips, but for now he parted her, his tongue playing around her clit. He sucked on her, the hard nub erecting into his mouth.

She grasped his shoulders, pulling him up her body.

"There's time for that later," she said, "When I'm smooth for you. Fuck me now, please, just fuck me."

His cock found its mark and slid inside, effortlessly. She silently thanked her vibrator for paving the way for him. He began to swing his hips, each thrust pushing deeper into her, both fantasies now a reality.

His balls were full, after weeks of abstinence, almost painfully so. He clenched his teeth, willing his climax away, she noticed.

"Fill me," she said.

His cock exploded, shooting cum high into her, like a volcano erupting. Load after load shot from him, flooding her, his balls emptying themselves of their stored ejaculate.

He slumped against her.

"Was that good?" she asked, already knowing the answer. She hadn't climaxed, her turn was for later, with his on his tongue against her bare pussy.

"It was f...," he stopped, still unsure of himself.

"It was fuckin' fantastic, I think you were about to say, wasn't it?" she said, smiling at him.

"You were fuckin' unbelievable," he replied, the old polite language finally discarded.

"Let's dress," she said, "My apartments close, and I think that we have a fantasy to fulfil, don't you?"

He smiled, his cock returning to its hardness.

"Not here," she said, noticing his erection, "You can wait, can't you?"

"I've waited this long," he replied, a vision of her bare cunt filling his mind.

They walked out of the library and down the steps.

She stopped and turned to him, "My name's Mary," she said, a little belatedly.

"I know," he answered, pointing at the newly erected name plate outside the door, 'Mary Johnston, Librarian'.

She tilted her head quizzically at him, a silent question.

"Mine's Robert," he said.

She thought for a few seconds, "I'll call you Bobby, my Bobby," she replied.

He'd always been Robert, from the day he could remember, but now he was Bobby, Robert lost forever, hopefully.

They continued on towards her apartment, his hand across her shoulders, hers around his waist. An old man nodded and smiled as they passed him, one who spent most of his afternoons in her library. He looked back at the couple, nice to see she has someone, he thought, the rumours that she was gay weren't true, not that it mattered, as long as she has someone to care for her.

They passed the local hardware store; she glanced at the window, a display of batteries taking prominent position.

He saw her looking, "Do you need any?" he asked.

"No, I don't think so," she said, the memories of her nights of solitary masturbation that were already fading were soon to be banished, forever.

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