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With finals approaching, Diana found herself buried in her university library’s stacks almost daily. Diana had never interacted with the librarians as much as she had for her Roman History term paper, pulling out books every couple hours. One librarian in particular, though, had caught her eye from the first time she saw her at the start of the term.
Diana couldn’t help but find her eyes drawn to the front desk to stare at this mystery woman every time she walked in. This librarian had a signature look that only added to her allure: long, dark hair coiffed into a bun with strands elegantly falling away, black cat eye glasses, and red lipstick, red nails, and red heels. Even though Diana would spend basically all day in the library, she would make a special effort to pass by the front desk for any given reason after 6 pm, which was when her library crush started her daily night shift until 2 am. This wasn’t wholly a one-sided effort, though, with the librarian equally holding Diana’s gaze whenever their paths crossed.
Diana felt her anxious restlessness growing each day, embarrassed that she went through the effort of memorizing her schedule but still lacked the courage to even ask her name. Her obsession spurred her to scour the library website until she found a match: Vivian Marston, Viv to her friends (according to her Instagram). At last, she knew Vivian’s lovely name. Apparently Vivian was somewhere in her thirties, making her at least a decade older, but Diana didn’t mind; perhaps, this made her even more interested. Emboldened by this discovery, Diana vowed to spark up a conversation the next time she saw her.
——– Thursday, Dec. 06 ——–
Like clockwork, I saw Vivian settling into her desk as she started her shift, watching from my vantage point across the first floor. Putting the paper I desperately needed to work on in the back of my mind, I looked up a tangentially related book that would require special assistance to access. I made my way to the front desk and greeted Vivian, my heart pounding in my ears.
“Hi, I’m looking for a specific book but it appears to be in a librarian-only section of the basement. Would you be able to help me grab it?” I innocently asked.
“Sure! Let me just look up the reference number. I’m Vivian, by the way,” she told me.
“So nice to meet you! I’m Diana,” I responded, acting as if I hadn’t already seen photos of her spanning back to 2014, learned she had been divorced for several years, and found out that her cat died last week (thanks again, Instagram). “I’m just writing my term paper right now and need that specific book, sorry if it’s a trek.” She kindly responded, “No worries, I’m happy to do anything that gets me out of this chair.”
Vivian silently pulled up the reference number then stood up, adjusting the glasses sliding down her aquiline nose. “Alright, just follow me down the stairs. It’s a couple flights down so let me know if you want to take the elevator.”
“That’s fine, I’d like to walk,” I told her. She led the way, and I felt my heart flutter as I watched her walk in long, feminine strides to the stairwell, the click of her heels echoing with each step. We made small talk on the way down, and she commented on how pretty my green eyes are, which made me woozy to be acknowledged by her in this way. Once on the storage level of the basement, Vivian guided us out and I stood jaw dropped at the sheer extent of books stuck in library limbo.
Vivian must have noticed, mentioning, “I know, it’s overwhelming at first, huh. Not many are lucky enough to ever see this place.”
“I could stay here for hours — wow.” Totally forgetting what I came here for, I asked if she could give me a tour around, since it looked nothing like the upper levels. She walked me around the floor, weaving in and out of shelves, describing each category they held. I was in awe of her obvious expertise and knowledge of the library.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, I forgot you needed a book!” she spontaneously exclaimed. “I’m sure you need to get back to writing your paper, I won’t keep bursa escort you any–“
“No, no,” I interrupted, “this tour, mainly talking with you, has been a very welcome break from studying. I can’t believe it took us until the end of the semester to officially meet; I would have loved to get to know you sooner.”
I felt like I shouldn’t have gushed like this so quickly, but she seemed delighted to hear that, even though she tried to hide it. “I’ve seen you in here almost every day of the semester, I was wondering when you’d finally come to my side of the desk to check you out — pun intended,” she laughed. I immediately blushed — is she flirting right now?
“Well, um,” I stuttered like an idiot with a dumb smile on my face, “you too.” Oh my God. I did not just say “you too.”
“Haha, you’re cute when you’re flustered,” Vivian quipped. “Here, let’s go to Row J to get your book.” Situated towards the back wall, Row J was the only row with all of its lights out and was far more narrow than any of the others. “Sorry, it’s a tight squeeze.”
She was definitely right about that, with her hand “accidentally” brushing against me twice, sending shivers through my body. Simultaneously spotting the book on the top shelf, our hands landed on top of each other as we reached for it at the same time. Neither of us pulled away, and when I turned my head, I saw her inquisitive eyes boring into mine. For the first time, she was the one who blushed. She quickly pulled herself together, handing me the book.
“I hope it’s an enthralling read. You’ll have to let me know what it’s about,” Vivian sincerely told me.
I could tell from her tone that she meant it, even though this book was by name alone incredibly dull, “Flowers in Pompeian Wall Art: the Power of Poppies.” “Oh yeah, just wait for tomorrow; I’ll tell you all the lowdown on flower power in Rome,” I responded. There was no way I’d actually read this, but I found myself later that night skimming through it just so I’d have a reason to talk to her next time I saw her.
—— Sunday, Dec. 09 – 8:03 PM ——
Three days after we first met, I was back in the library again. I felt bad not showing up Friday after mentioning I would, but I was busy partying during her shifts over the weekend. I scanned my school ID and walked in, immediately making eye contact and smiling at Vivian. She was less eager than I’d hoped, but smiling nonetheless.
“Hey Vivian, how was your weekend?” I asked nonchalantly, hoping she had forgotten about what I’d promised her Thursday.
“It was alright, but I have to admit, I was a little disappointed when you didn’t come in the last couple nights. I was really looking forward to your summary of that book,” she said coyly.
“I can tell you all about it on the way down to the basement? I have another book to check out from storage, if you’re available.”
“I’d be more than happy to,” she said smiling, already grabbing her keys. Right as she said that, my friend Jordan, who also works the front desk, spotted me and jolted over. “Hey Diana! Need any help today?” he said. Noticing the reference number Vivian had printed, he suggested, “Ooh, I can grab that book for you! Save you both a trip.”
Trying to look as normal as possible, I was trying to tell him to go away with my eyes, but he didn’t pick up on my cues. Vivian stepped in, “I think it’s actually right next to the book I helped Diana with a couple days ago, so it’ll really be quicker if we go.” Jordan, content to sit at the desk and watch Netflix instead, happily gave up the initiative and let us carry on.
After reaching the basement and heading towards Row J once again, I realized the reference number I gave Vivian was on the opposite side from where we were, which Vivian had to have known after working there for over five years. This time, I went first into the tight row. I felt Vivian’s hand linger on the small of my back as we maneuvered through, sending a wave of heat down below. Feigning to search the shelf numbers, Vivian gave a small sigh and said, “Darn, looks like bursa escort bayan I brought us to the wrong row, sorry, Diana,” obviously looking at my lips while she spoke. Waiting for a follow-up that didn’t come, I could tell Vivian was stalling, sensing whether I would make the next move.
“Aw, don’t worry about it. You have hundreds of shelves memorized, I’m sure one gets mixed up from time to time,” I replied, making it clear by my line of vision that I had a parallel interest in her own bright red lips. Reaching past her towards a random book, I slowly brushed against her chest, imagining that I might actually have a chance to see what lies beneath her blouse. Vivian tensed, now fixated on my every move.
“Oh, do you think that book might be helpful for your project,” she asked uninterestedly while looking straight at me, scanning my face, not glancing at the book in question once. She went to grab it from me when it fell from our hands. Vivian quickly knelt down to retrieve it, but something shifted in her expression while she was down there, eye-level with my sex. She slowly peered up at me, a look of intrigue and hesitant desire in her eyes.
While my thoughts raced with the possibilities of how this could proceed, all of a sudden her hands were on my hips, running down my knee-length skirt, and I immediately stopped all rational thinking. Vivian snaked her hands up my shirt, causing my stomach muscles to clench and making me shiver as her cherry-red claws lightly scratched from my hips to just below my breasts.
As her hands frenziedly caressed my body, I pulled her up and paused for a moment before desperately making for her lips, a feeling of utmost yearning I had never before felt in my twenty years of life. The tension of lingering gazes and unspoken exchanges that had built up over the past three months came flooding in all at once, resulting in our lips crashing together in this first opening of the floodgates.
We both equally needed the other, frantically grasping at each other’s faces while pushing our bodies as close as was possible in the tight quarters of Row J. She wrapped one hand around the back of my head in a futile attempt to bring us closer together than we already were. To rectify that remaining barrier of separation, Vivian tenderly inserted her free hand into the waistband of my skirt, lightly brushing against my skin and feeling along the fringes of my panties — the anticipation alone was enough to make me soaked. Her slender fingers ventured beyond this final layer of chastity, running along my drenched pussy as I moaned. Vivian naughtily told me to hush in the concisely stern way only a professional librarian could. I smirked and said “make me”: my mistake.
Vivian pushed me up against the bookshelf and kissed me with a new kind of ferocity, pinning my hands behind me. “Tsk, tsk. You’re in a no talking zone,” she whispered into my ear, sloppily kissing my extended neck, while I tilted my head to give her as much surface area as possible. Interspersing kisses while she scolded me, “I’m afraid if you moan that loudly again, I’ll have to do something about you. Noisy girls get punished,” she said as she nipped my ear.
She swiftly pulled down my skirt and placed a hand on my neatly trimmed pubic mound, beginning her fingers’ descent to my heat, while the other continued to restrain my own hands behind my back. But I couldn’t bear to not touch this gorgeous woman I’ve fantasized so much about for the last several months, so I fought for control and pushed her back against the other side of the aisle, making it my turn to enforce the “no talking zone.”
With Vivian now leaning against the other side’s bookshelf, I ripped open her buttoned blouse, exposing her DD breasts in the sexy black bra that had previously been only a shadow to me under her white shirt. My mouth began to water as I made a trail from her neck down to her breasts, unclasping her bra and throwing it aside while she bit her lip. I massaged her tits, making her begin to squirm, but Vivian only started struggling to escort bursa suppress moans once I put my mouth around her left nipple as I massaged the right in my fingers, sufficing herself with a sharp inhale.
I could feel her body trembling as I moved my hand down from her right breast to her lower torso, keeping my mouth on her left. I ran my fingers across her soft belly, inching closer towards her heat, eliciting soft moans. I hastily unzipped her skirt and pulled it down to her ankles, now focusing my mouth on her thighs. Grazing my tongue towards her inner thighs, I thought her legs would buckle, giving me all the more inspiration to make her cum so hard she’d fall over.
I reached her pussy, which was barely protected by a lacy thong, and began at the center, running my tongue along her thong up to her clit, feeling her juices wash over my nose as I teased her. Vivian grabbed hold of my head, tangling her fingers in my hair, and pushed my tongue further into her, begging for more. I moved aside the thong string and got to work, running my tongue flatly back and forth before zoning in on her clit, twirling and hardening it against her nub. “Oh God, I can’t take it, it feels so good!” she proclaimed with heavy breaths, to which I doubled down and sucked on her clit, her lifted leg quivering around my neck while the other struggled to support her.
Vivian was no longer in control: I was. She whimpered and shook with each movement, her hands grasping the shelves for any stability, knocking over several books. Nonetheless, she cried for more, so while I performed art with my tongue, I added two fingers into her warmth, slick with her pussy juice. I could tell she nearly fainted with that addition, and with every thrust of my fingers coupled with every swirl of my tongue, she was another second closer to cumming. All of a sudden Vivian longingly cried out, “I’m about to fucking cum, Diana, please, fuck me harder,” and fell to the floor with urgent moans.
I resumed my position at her pussy and mounted myself on her thigh while we lay prone on the floor, rocking my hips back and forth on the slip n’ slide of my own wetness seeping onto her leg. Her leg began to move in tandem with my body, and not a minute later, Vivian gripped each side of Row J and began to spasm uncontrollably while letting out unfiltered moans into the halls of the library storage room at full volume, blissfully apathetic to whether anyone might be listening.
“You look so beautiful when you come,” I growled in her ear, aroused all the more by her orgasm to reach my own. I kept riding her leg as she settled down and began to guide my hips with her hands, gently feeling from my ribs to my curves. She grabbed my breasts as I leaned forward into her, restarting our makeout session. Losing control, I ground my pussy faster into her thigh, feeling our hard nipples rubbing together as I moved. She licked her hand and let her fingers join her leg in pleasuring my pussy, adding a firm object for me to keep rubbing against. Her fingers pulled apart my folds and slipped inside me, now grinding my pussy on her hand with her slender fingers thrusting inside me as I moaned into her mouth. Thirty seconds later, it was my turn to orgasm, and I collapsed right alongside her.
After a moment of breathless silence as we both recovered from this unexpected dalliance, Vivian was at a loss for words. “I don’t even know what to say other than holy shit… wow,” she panted, chuckling at the absurdity of the situation: a stunning young student who turned her into her bitch in Vivian’s own library.
“That’s quite a compliment coming from you. I almost thought you were a dominatrix!” I said only half-joking, reaching for her hand and grazing her cherry-colored nails across my lips.
“Well, normally, I am; no one can usually make me lose control like that — I’ve always been the one doing that to other people. Are you sure you’re only in undergrad?” Vivian jokingly asked, grinning while she turned her head to me, gazing into my eyes and reaching over to caress my face. She looks so beautiful, even right after library floor sex.
“Last I checked,” I laughed. “As to your typical standard of control, I only have one question: is that an open offer?”
“That depends… do you think you’ll be needing to check out any more books soon?”
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