Librarian Ch. 01byMungoParkIII©
I guess it all started when they extended the hours for the library. To be honest, I'm not sure why they did it, I mean it wasn't busy during the hours we were open. Perhaps they thought if we were open longer, people might be more apt to stop in at the different times. Well it didn't work and all that happened was that Ms. Harrington and I simply had to look busy while doing practically nothing.
Ms. Harrington was the librarian, a sometimes grumpy, but normally somewhat pleasant middle-aged woman. Needless to say, as quiet as it was there Ms. Harrington and I had the place looking better and running more efficiently than it ever had. The books were back on the stacks within fifteen minutes of being returned, new books were catalogued usually within an hour or two and there wasn't a bit of dust anywhere.
Even after all the cleaning, stacking and cataloguing, there was still a lot of time we were either waiting for someone to come in, or waiting for one or two people to make their choices and check out. I usually spent those down times sitting at the check-out desk holding a book below the level of the upper counter so the customers couldn't see me reading. Ms. Harrington would see me reading, but as long as everything was stacked, catalogued and nicely dusted she wouldn't say anything about it normally.
Today for some reason she walked around behind the desk and said, "Reading again?"
Closing the book quickly I said, "Ugh, yes, just until some customers come in."
"Relax, I mean you have all the books stacked..."
"...and all the new ones are catalogued..."
I nodded again.
"...and everything is dusted?"
"Well then it is okay to read, it's just that, well, what is it you're reading?"
"Oh just something I found in the new releases, a thriller."
"Jerry, don't you know there are some magnificent books in our stacks here that absolutely must be read, but everyone goes to the new releases as if everything else is outdated. That best seller may be popular but what are you getting out of it but a few thrills."
"The critics seemed to have liked it."
"Critics? Have you read the full critique, or just the blurbs?"
"Just what's here on the book."
"That is advertising, complete spin. Why not look up the actual reviews and see what is said, you might get end up with a different outlook."
"But what books are you talking about?"
"Here, I have a list I often pass out to people. These are some of the books we have that scream to be read. Books that everyone should read in their lifetime, look it over and see what you think," she replied, handing me the list and then walking back toward her office.
As I picked up the list she paused and looked back at me and said, "And Jerry, one more thing."
"Calling me Ms. Harrington is simply too stuffy, just call me Denise okay?"
"Okay Ms. Har... ah, Denise."
She disappeared into her office as I unfolded her list. Looking down the list I saw Hemingway, Steinbeck, Tolstoy, but also a number of books by Anais Nin, D.H. Lawrence, Henry Miller, Marguerite Duras, and even some Georges Bataille. I moved my book aside and wandered out into the stacks.
Over the next few days I started reading some of the books she listed. Not sure I was ready to handle Hemingway or Tolstoy, I had grabbed Nin's "Delta of Venus." After reading a little, I was surprised was available here at the library, I mean it was pretty hot. Anyway, I often found myself needing to make adjustments to my pants as I got an erection reading the passages. I would look around, making sure no one was watching and then as nonchalantly as possible, reach down and adjust my cock.
It was after one of these adjustments that I thought I heard something, a slight cry or moan and I was worried Ms. Harr... ah, Denise might have hurt herself or something. I got up and walked back toward the door to her office and saw it was slightly ajar. Quietly I opened it a bit more and was about to call her name when I saw her.
She was sitting on one of the cushioned chairs facing the one way glass that looked out onto the check out desk and book stacks. Leaning back in the chair with her eyes closed I initially thought she was having a heart attack or something, but before I moved I noticed she had a hand in her pants and was squeezing a breast with her other hand. At that time I should have walked away, but I couldn't.
I couldn't see much, other than the outline of her hand moving in her pants, but her hips were moving up and down and she continued squeezing her breast. She moaned and began moving her hand and her hips faster. Quite shocked at seeing a woman her age simply going so wild, I felt my cock bulging in my pants. When she finally lifted her hips off the chair and arched her back, supporting herself with her shoulders on the back of the door I saw her come.
Her body quickly relaxed and she settled back into her chair, breathing heavily. I immediately turned and headed straight to the men's restroom, slipped into a stall, closed the door and pulled out my erect cock. Standing there in front of the toilet I took my hand and began stroking myself wildly while images of Denise playing with her pussy spun through my mind.
Almost immediately I could feel the pleasure building inside me and moved my hand even faster. Looking down I watched as the head of my cock appeared and then disappeared from my view. I came quickly, pointing my cock down at the toilet I watched the cum spurt, once, twice and a third time into the water. Grabbing some toilet paper I dabbed up the rest of the cum as it dribbled out of my cock.
I then headed back to the checkout desk and picked up my book. Several minutes later I noticed Denise emerge from her office and head to the ladies' room. Her face seemed a bit flushed and her hair was mussed up. After a few minutes she came out of the restroom looking all prim and proper.
As she walked past me she looked at the book I was reading and said, "Ah, I'm glad you took my advice on looking into the book stacks for something good. You know, you'd be amazed what you will find here in the library."
Looking up at her face and remembering how it contorted in pleasure as she made herself come, I replied, "I know what you mean Denise, I know what you mean."