Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
It had been a long day. I had thrashed out the bones of the first two chapters but wasn’t terribly excited with what lay before me. The characters seemed okay, but the locations were bland, causing the story to lack that “grab” I was hoping for. Heavy competition in the Science Fiction field meant that I was off to the library in the hopes of gaining the inspiration necessary to save the start of my most recent book.
Like any other, the dusty old building was desperately in need of the funding necessary to fix the facade and update the interior. However, being situated in a blue-ribbon seat, no one was willing to allocate any funds for such a project. But for my purposes, it was perfect. I knew that I would find examples of gothic architecture while enveloped in the libraries outdated atmosphere.
Just inside the entrance was the librarian’s counter, an old-fashioned teak monstrosity chipped and scratched through years of use. Behind it stood a woman nearly as old and scratched as the counter itself. She looked down her nose at me as I walked past, returning to her a confident smile. Behind the counter, rows of chairs lined two long tables stretching back into the dim lighting and maze of shadows. I was about to walk down to the far end when I saw her.
My eyes were drawn first to the beautiful profile before me, but quickly traveled to the smooth softness of her neck as her fingers stretched to tame wavy blonde hair. She was clearly concentrating, biting her bottom lip as she pored over the architecture drawings spread out before her. I didn’t mind, I knew that I could look her over at my leisure as I chose my spot to sit. My gaze traveled downward, following a soft shoulder to her breast, resting lightly on the table as she leaned forward. The light summer dress she was wearing clearly could not hide a bra, with the thin shoulder straps being the only covering above her chest.
As I sat down she looked up, and for a brief moment our eyes met. I was struck by their brightness; a vivid blue even behind the small wire rimed glasses she wore. I busied myself with the notepads and sketches I had brought, trying to pull my mind away from this woman across the table. I stood and walked over to the indexes, looking up the references I would need. As I turned to make my way to the shelves, out of the corner of my eye I caught the slight movement of her head as it ducked down out of view. I made like I hadn’t seen it and strolled around the desk to the shelves, back into the dimness once more. I turned and could see her back clearly, as she rested her head on one hand. I could see now the knee-length dress she wore with low slip-on shoes, one hanging off the toe of her crossed legs. Nice legs too from what I could see, although my angle of viewing left something to be desired. Just the same, a very attractive package, and I felt a familiar quickening, a stirring of the blood that made it all the hard to concentrate on the purpose of my visit. She had a sensual quality, such that I spent a great deal more time admiring my view of her than looking for books. I shook my head, pulled out some architecture books almost at random and headed back around the table.
I tried to concentrate on the books scattered before me, but I felt my attention return time and again to the woman opposite. I thumbed through the well worn volumes, looking for anything that would capture my focus, that would get her image out of my head, but for every attempt to focus, my gaze keep drifting.
She got up and wandered back to the shelves where I had been. She was a few inches shorter than I had imagined, but every inch as attractive. I felt the blood stir as I watched her dally, flicking the books with her fingers as she walked down the row. She seemed to be concentrating on the titles, but that was when it dawned on me that this was not a search for a book, but a display. She was aware of my attention, and was paying just as much to me! I don’t know how I knew, and yet it was one of those certainties that when realized become a rock-solid belief that was unassailable.
As bahis firmaları if to prove my point, she frowned and returned to the table without picking out any books at all. Now it was different. I could feel a charge of electricity in the air, a static burst of attraction. As she sat down, her bare leg brushed against the outside of mine. Her skin tickled the hairs on my leg like fine fire, and I almost jumped. I leaned my leg out until it rested against hers solid skin-on-skin contact for the first time. I kept my head down looking at the nonsense pages in front of me, as I could see she did. She moved her leg, just a fraction, up and down against mine, but I understood. Ours was to be an elaborate quiet courtship, all hidden under solid teak respectability.
I moved my leg up and down, growing bolder in my tender caresses. Her leg moved as well, mirroring my movements. I made an effort to control my breathing, to concentrate all my senses on that small patch of intimate contact. I used my other foot to gently slip off the runner that I had on that leg, leaving my sock on. I brought my leg back, my knee circling hers as the inside of my leg now rested on the inside of hers, a thousand times more sensitive.
She lifted her leg slightly, and I felt the sole of her foot gently stroke my calf, tantalizing softness as it moved. I waited for my turn, realizing that it may not come as her foot traveled higher. Up my calf, pausing at my knee with an awkward stance, then straightening out as it rested against my thigh just short of the hem of my shorts. There she paused, and I took the opportunity to lift my leg, placing it under her dress next to her soft thigh, the heel now on her chair. I gently moved it in until my foot rested against her thigh, skin touching all the way along, from thigh to knee to calf. We both stopped for a moment. I leaned back in my chair, holding a large volume in front of me, while she was still bent over her books with her chin in her hands.
Her foot began a small circling motion where it touched my thigh, my cock already rock hard in my shorts only inches away. I did the same, feeling the heat from her pussy on the sole of my foot. I slid down a few inches on my chair, and gradually slid my foot along that soft welcoming mat until I felt the slippery satin of her panties contact with my toes. I felt her stiffen and I froze, just for an instant. Then she relaxed, and sat forward slightly in her chair, pushing back harder against my foot. I traced the line of her pussy lips under the cloth; my toes had never been so sensitive. Her lips were puffy, easily separating under my insistent toes as I felt the moisture within. I felt her tremble as I traced up and down her length, opening her through the cloth.
I saw her right hand leave her chin and slowly travel down under the table. A moment later I felt it touch my foot, gently stroking it before moving up and lifting her panties aside. A soft caress on my toes and her hand returns above the table, her pussy now exposed to my probing. Her eyes lift for just a moment, meeting mine, twinkling. A small secret smile and her eyes return to the papers in front of her.
My toes return to the moist haven between her legs. Her pussy is wide and moist, and I stroke from her clit all the way down to her entrance, my toes covering the whole width of her inner lips. Her hips are rolling in tiny movements with my stroking. I casually look around, but no one seems to be paying the slightest attention to us. Frankly I wouldn’t have cared, if she had wanted me to pull out my cock and fuck her on the desk in front of everyone I would have, but this was more fun, this secret sharing.
My toes press harder against her clit, feeling the hard little nub press back. I squeezed it between my toes, caught in the rough cotton. As I felt her body press back, I could almost feel her pressure build, urgent, crying for release. Her foot moved forward, landing squarely on my cock, but hampered by my shorts. I left my cock in my pants, wanting to concentrate on her pleasure. Still, her bare foot stroked kaçak iddaa my rock-hard cock with delightful pleasure, urging me to go faster.
I responded, stroking harder. I could feel that she was not far from cumming. Her face was getting flushed and I could see her biting her bottom lip to keep from moaning. He hips were pressed hard back against my foot as I roughly ground her clit. Moisture covered my toes, soaking half my foot as she struggled to keep her ass from moving too much. I could see the restraint, her breathing quiet but harsh, small quick rasping breaths that grew faster and faster as she got closer and closer to her climax. My foot could feel the pressure as her clit poked back hard at me, daring to be stroked harder. Just as I could feel her trembling start, I lowered my toes and entered her, just an inch or so with my fat big toe, stretching her as I quickly fucked her with my foot. She leaned back, seemingly thinking, but under the table her hips bucked in tiny movements as my toes attempted to force their way into her pussy. Her bottom lip was white where her teeth pressed into it, almost ready to draw blood as she came, her whole body minutely trembling. I pushed as hard as she did, her foot almost grinding my cock back into my pelvic bone as my toe plunged quickly in and out of her body. Just as she started to come down the pressure sent a second toe squeezing past her entrance, bringing on a second round of trembling. For an eternity her body was tensed, gradually relaxing, her foot gradually withdrawing from my crotch. A slow casual look around showed no interest by anyone else, we were alone in our own private world of pleasure. I could feel her pussy lips flutter around my toes as I reluctantly withdrew my foot, caressing her thigh on the way out, moisture leaving a slick cold trail down that soft inner flesh.
She sat back a little further in her chair, casually reaching down to obviously return her panties to the normal position. She looked directly at me, a sly smile on her beautiful features. For a moment we held each other’s gaze, before she leaned forward, pointing at the books in front of me.
“Excuse me, but I noticed the books you were looking at, I think I know the sort of things that would interest you, would you like me to show you where they can be found?” I dumbly nodded, entranced by the opportunity. She stood and turned, picking up one of the books in front of her. I quickly slipped my foot back into my runner, glad that I always wore them loose. She led off down towards the back of the library, turning down one dusty corridor after another, past students, borrowers and books in trolleys. The corridor that she finally turned into seemed dimmer than the rest, but the same, walled in by ceiling high bookshelves, ending in a dead end. But as we got to the end I saw why she had chosen this particular set of shelves. The shelves took a sharp right turn and ended about 6 feet further, a quiet secret place. The books looked like they had lain undisturbed for many years, the home for unpopular volumes. A librarian’s ladder stood there leaning casually against the end.
As soon as it became obvious that we were hidden from sight, she turned and captured my lips in hers, her arms wrapping around my back and neck. She was only a few inches shorter than me, perfect height for kissing, and we made the most of it. Her lips and tongue tangled with mine as my hands reached to squeeze those delightful breasts through her dress. Her hands dived straight to my shorts, unbuttoning them and drawing out my cock, still hard and expectant. She moaned into my mouth, as she rapidly stroked it, no time for subtlety. I could feel her nipples poking through the thin fabric, hard against my palm as she pulled back, a hungry look on her face. She turned and grabbed the ladder, spreading her legs and lifting her skirt, then moving her saturated panties aside. A perfect rear view, pussy delightfully framed by soft thighs, wet and wanting. I could have stayed and looked at the delightful sight all day, but I felt the same driving need in my kaçak bahis crotch that she did. I moved forward, guiding my cock into that moist warm opening. I plunged in deeply, knowing how ready she was. She moaned and I started moving quickly, no time to stretch out the pleasure. Long quick strokes, drawing out until only the very tip of my cock was still in her pussy, then ramming it deep within her. I could feel the inner walls of her pussy dragging on the skin of my cock, slippery and sensitive. Her ass was banging back against my thighs, flesh bouncing as we met. I reached around and under her dress, my hands finding her breasts, firm flesh swinging backward and forward under my assault. I grabbed them hard, twisting the nipples between my fingers and squeezing the flesh together. She moaned and arched her back. Letting go of the ladder with one hand she reached back under and I could feel her hand on my balls, squeezing with a roughness that mirrored my own. I knew that I could not last long, and hoped that I could last long enough for her. I reached down under her body with my right hand, over her straining belly to soft curls, spreading her upper lips wide as my fingers sought her clit, desperate to make her cum. I found it ready, hard and wet, and captured it between index and first finger, massaging swiftly. She moaned more loudly, and I became aware of other voices in the nearby bookstalls. Not close enough to see, but perhaps to hear.
It was too late now, as she let go of my balls and placed her hand over mine as I ravaged her clit, encouraging more pressure. Her rhythm came faster and faster, pounding back against me, harder, over and over. She whimpered as I felt her body tense, not moving for an instant as I could feel the seed boiling up inside me. She seemed to fly apart in an instant as she came, bucking under me, uncontrollable. The dam burst inside me and I pounded the cum into her, thrusting over and over, grasping her hips to pound harder. We slowed together, gradually coming down to our surroundings. The voices that I could hear had not changed, still discussing whatever mundane reality they lived in, looking for the pleasures in books that I had found in real life.
I gradually pulled my softening cock out of her reluctantly, and leaned up against the bookshelf, breathing hard. She stayed there for a moment, framing that wonderful view, before fixing her dress and panties. She turned and stood close, taking my cock in her hand, giving it a few delightful strokes as she kissed me deeply. “Stay here for a few minutes, okay?” she whispered to me in a breathy voice. The hairs on my neck stood up as her moist breath washed over them, and I nodded. One last squeeze and she was gone, casually walking back around the corner as if nothing had happened. I quickly put my cock back in my shorts, straightened myself out, and made myself presentable. I picked up the book she had bought with her, and started to flick through it to pass the time. About half way through, I came upon the perfect picture for my story, a delightful half ruint castle in Scotland. The moss covered rocks, the broken down walls, the general air of abandonment, it said it all. I tucked it under my arm and took a deep breath, trying to control my still racing heart.
As I walked out of the aisles, sure of the stares I was receiving, I desperately tried to control the idiot grin that seemed fixed to my face. All too soon it disappeared, as I realized the seat across from me was now empty. My heart crashed, then recovered, as was its way. I realized it was what it was, a fantastic afternoon rendezvous, kept alive in memories. To extend the event would be to detract from the spontaneity of it, and I smiled. “Besides,” I thought, “there may be a next time.” I certainly intended to come here more often, as you never know what other fantastic adventures I might find delving between the pages of a book.
I tucked the book under my arm and jauntingly strode to the librarian’s desk to checkout the book, the idiot grin firmly back, planted fair and square in the middle of my face. My novel would have an interesting dedication:
“To those who dare to risk,
those who dream beyond daily cares,
those who know the pleasure that
comes from a strangers caress,
this book is for you.”
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32