The Library

The library at this school is enormous. Two wings, one of them seven stories tall. It is in this latter wing that I am evading the daylight. I have spent most of the day constructing a massive tower of books in a vain search for a forty year old research paper. I open the door to my study booth, a small phone booth-like area that provides students (like I used to be) and masochists (like me now) the opportunity to seclude themselves and focus on their studies. As my eyes adjust to the marginally brighter light in the stacks and the occasionally dazzling light of a well-hidden window I find the row in the maze of rows of books that I have been steadily raiding over the course of the day. Making my way down I see someone short looking through a shelf I have been depleting.

"Which one are you looking for?" I ask

"Smith and Chen." The person turns to reveal a soft feminine face, framed by dark wet hair pulled back. I wonder if she had just showered.

"I have it right now, but you can borrow it as long as you promise not to bring it back." She smiles and agrees and I quickly check out her attire: White tee shirt, maybe a size too big, flannel pants. She probably did just shower, probably working on her thesis. I am guessing she's about 24. I look at her eyes and she that she is also starved for human contact. Well, let's help each other.

"I have the booth over there." I lead her back and we start quietly talking as we make out way through the labyrinth. As we are talking I feel myself becoming excited at more than just pleasant conversation. I make a lot of eyes contact, smiling involuntarily. There is electricity. I step into the booth and start working through the castle of texts, I look back at her and see her breathing a little heavily. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

I take her hand in mine and pull her closer, mostly in the booth. After a brief moment of realization, her hand quickly go up above my shoulders and her mouth opens as she stands on her tiptoes to kiss me. Our tongue meet, flat to flat, as we fall backwards in. I reach behind her and close the door, turning on the dim lit in these tight confines. Our kissing slows a bit as our tongues reach out, feeling each other. Our hands continue in this spirit and she slide her hands under my shirt, running her flat palms over my chest. I set her on her knees on the chair, which makes our faces a little more even and the booth feel a little less cramped. My own hands are under her shirt, working to maneuver her bra away from her large breasts. She smiles against my lips.

"I know. A little over-endowed. Forgive me?" She is almost laughing at the joy of the being touched, a sentiment I strongly share. We resume kissing in a more relaxed pace, realizing that what we lack in space we can make up for in time. She sits back on the desk and pushes my hands down, then pulls her shirt off. She fondles her breasts for a second, smiling at me coyly. I start to move my own hands to hers and she pushes them away with a smile. She turns, putting her knees on the desk and shows me as her hand reaches back, opening her bra clasp. I watch her sharp gaze over her shoulder as she pushes each strap off her shoulder. As the bra falls away, step up behind her, pulling my shirt off and forcing the chair under the desk so I can feel her back against my chest. I bring my head to the nape of her neck, trailing kisses. She sinks on her knees to a better height as my hands race up from her belly the cradle her breasts as they overfill my big hands. She sighs and runs a hand through my hair, letting me tease her neck and her ears while my hands enjoy the warm, soft weight of her breasts.

Quickly our passion demands more than the light, pleasant sensations we are creating now. She turns around, hanging her legs off the desk over the chair as she straightens her back between the towers of books, scooting her pajama pants off, and taking her panties with them. I try to kneel in front of her, hoping to show her what I do best, but the space of the booth does not allow me to get low enough on the desk. She pulls my face up to hers, then reaches down for the hot eager shaft waiting for her. The chair is in the way now, and we dare not open the booth to push it out. I pull the chair back and climb over sitting in it. She pivots and faces away from me, reaching under her for the shaft bouncing slightly with each throb and pointing it to her. Her hips settle on me. I hear her sigh as she FINALLY gets to feel me in side her . She leans back, pressing her back against my chest as my hands reach around for her breasts. Another sigh and she begins lifting up and down on me. Helpless against the chair, I submit to the small lithe body on me as she works fast on me, quietly driving herself. I can feel her rising excitement in the heaviness of her breath. She leans forward, and I feel her muscles clamp down. She makes one long slow lift, then shoves herself back down, driving herself into the tightest grip of her muscle. Her body explodes into shivers and spasms, the wild motions setting off a reaction in me and I feel hot long jets of ecstasy explode into her. I feel long, long spurts deep inside. She shivers with delight at the hot rush within her. Quickly after lifting off, she grabs her panties and pulls the on, controlling the mess we are sure to leave. As she gathers her clothes, I slip my card in the book.

I hand the book to her, as she stands outside the booth, my daydream shattered. I hand the book, sans card, she takes it wit ha smile. There's a brief pause, and awkward thankful smile and she turns and walks away. I watch her walk...wondering. I slump back into the chair and find a book I am not interested in that I have already read, and leaf through as I shake the vivid thoughts away.