Another of my in-between pieces, smut, but with a plot.

Please vote or comment if you liked it. I do love to hear from my readers.

I step up to the front desk of the small college library. It's late in the evening and the place is nearly empty, so there is only one librarian here. Her back to me so I have plenty of time to examine her.

She's dressed in a dark grey ensemble, a jacket with square shoulders and a knee length skirt. That skirt is drawn tight around the lush curves of her ass. Below the hem her calves, nicely shaped and firm, are covered with smoke coloured hosiery. Her feet are in low heeled, black shoes. Raven coloured hair is done up in a rather severe and large bun.

However I do notice one thing. Seams running up the back of her stockings. I find that somewhat out of tune with the rest of her garb.

I clear my throat with an "Ahem".

She starts up from the cart of returned books she was examining and turns to me. The buttoned collar and small amount of a white blouse peek above the lapels of her jacket. This doesn't entirely hide the full breasts she has. Her face is fair skinned, a little on the thin side and quite pleasant to look at. Narrow, wire framed glasses sit on her elegant nose. Behind the lenses, her eyes are wide and lake blue.

"She wouldn't look entirely out of place as a spinster schoolmarm in a Western," I think. But I pick up something in her eyes, a touch of fire, that hints at more.

"Can I help you?" is the question that comes from her. She doesn't smile, her lips and face show little emotion.

"I'm looking for a book," I tell her.

"Which book?" is her next query. One of her dark, slim eyebrows rises. I see her gaze run over me.

It's not surprising she would wonder. I don't look like the type of person who would be reading a book. I'm several inches taller than her. My build is wide and solid. I spend a fair bit of time to maintain that solidity. It can't be taken for granted at my age. My hair is long and grey, pulled into a ponytail at the back. Although kept well trimmed, my beard is full and as grey as all my other hair. It covers a face best described as 'craggy'. I'm wearing a black leather jacket that's open to reveal the white T-shirt underneath. 'NO PRISONERS!' is the logo it sports. The parts of me she can't see are encased in black jeans and infantry boots.

I remain silent through her short inspection. Her eyes return to mine. There is a slight glisten in them now. The tip of her tongue pokes out for a moment.

"The Story of O," is the answer I finally give her.

I can see the material of her jacket tighten as she draws a sudden breath. Her eyes blink and a faint blush come to her cheeks.

"May I ask what you want it for?" Her voice is subdued, with a hint of curiousity in it.

"No, you may not," I reply. My face goes a little stiff. I'm not fond of people I don't know poking into my business.

The flush in her cheeks grows brighter. Her gaze lowers from mine and she looks at her hands as she brings them up, wrings them together. "I'm sorry. You're quite right."

I smile and reply, "Not a problem." My quick anger has passed, partly because of her prompt apology. And partly because of the hints of her personality that her ready atonement and body language give me.

The beautiful lady raises her eyes back to mine. Her expression is that blank that she first showed me, but I notice the colour hasn't entirely faded from her face. "This way," she tells me. Stepping from behind the counter, she leads me into the fiction section of the library.

I trail behind, watching her. In spite of the distinctly unflattering clothes she wears, her cheeks roll as she walks. A wicked grin pastes itself on my face. I imagine what it would be like, my hands around those lovely muscles, pulling her onto my cock. At that thought I begin to harden. The vision is very clear and very hot.

She never looks at me through our short trip. Her steps are swift. She seems to be hurrying. When we come to the desired bookshelf she turns to it, reaches for my request and pulls it out. Without taking her eyes from the rows of books she heads back the way she came.

Since the stuffy woman wasn't watching where she was going her first step causes her to bump into me. Her faces snaps towards mine.

I smile at her. The feel of her breasts pressed against me is marvelous.

Her jaw goes slack for a moment. She jerks a step back. Her eyes can't seem to escape my gaze. A gulp moves her throat.

I reach out my hand for the book.

This snaps her out of her fugue. She gives the small paperback to me, then steps around and walks briskly back the way we came.

I catch up to and stride beside her. I've decided to make a project out of the lovely and inhibited lady next to me. I'm catching intimations that there is a great deal more to her than her priggish exterior. "How to go about it?" is the question I ask myself.

"I need the book for a criticism of literature course I'm taking here," I tell her.

Her head swivels towards me. There is a slight lifting of her eyebrows, betraying her curiousity.

Going on I say, "I believe I'll write better myself if I know how to critique my work properly."

Her head sways away from me a little, confusion grows on her face. It's a common reaction. I know I don't look like an authour. "What do you write?" she asks me.

I hold up the book in my hands to answer her query.

Her head snaps forward and her lips thin. Wrinkling her nose, she slits her eyes. A tiny grunt of disgust passes through her nostrils. That's a frequent reaction to my profession as well.

As if I didn't notice I continue talking. "I picked this book because a lot of people in my line of work regard it as indecent. They don't know it takes the same skills to write this as any other literary work. Plus I like shocking people."

"I'd noticed," is her tight voiced observation.

I can't help but grin at that.

"I'm Adam Carson. Don't worry if you've never heard of me."

She doesn't reply.

"What's your name?" I assay.

"Ms. Nevis," the frowning lady informs me.

"What's your first name?" I go on.

"Corrine."

"What a lovely name. A pleasure to meet you, Corrine."

Her head turns back towards me, the ends of her mouth tugging upward. They pull down again and she faces front once more.

We arrive at the checkout counter and she begins the process of signing the book out. While she does that, I pull my idea notebook from a jacket pocket. Tearing a page loose I scribble some information on it.

"What's that?" she queries.

"A lot of my work is available on a website," I tell her. "This is its address and the user name I publish under." Finished, I fold the page in half, reach over and slide it into the pocket on the front chest of her jacket. I don't make a show of it but for an instant the firm warmth of her left breast presses against my fingers.

Corrine's eyes widen. Again I can see her throat work as she swallows.

Smiling, I take my book from her hand. "Nice meeting you, Corrine."

There's no reply. She just blinks repeatedly.

Turning away, I head out of the library. At the door, I look back and give her a friendly wave. She hasn't moved at all.

Going out into the night I think to myself, "This is going to be fun."

***

It's a week later and I've returned to the library to continue my project. As I enter I see Corrine is here.

Like last week she's behind the counter, her back to me. The only difference is the unflattering suit she wears is navy blue. As I stop I notice she's wearing the seamed stockings again, and heels this time. Not high ones, but they are lovely.

I announce my presence with, "Good evening, Corrine."

She turns towards me with a jerk. Her eyes and mouth are wide. There is a quick flash of light, almost too quick to be noticed. The spinster returns as her features return to their standard prissy expression.

"Good evening, Mr. Carson," she greets. "Can I help you?"

"Adam, please." I lay the book I borrowed last week behind the barrier that rises from the surface of the counter. "I also need another one."

Corrine picks up the book and takes it to the returned cart. "Which one?" she asks.

"Fanny Hill," I tell her.

The prim woman gives a little jerk. She pauses for a moment, then places her cargo where it belongs. Turning, she heads off with me in trail.

"How was your essay received?" she asks me as we walk. Her voice carries a touch of actual interest.

"Very well. Thank you for asking," I reply.

Indeed it had just the reaction I hoped for, and a little extra. My class is almost entirely young women my daughter's age. Several possess that odd form of prudishness mistaken for feminism. They were shocked, very shocked, at the piece I deconstructed. Which was half the reason I chose it.

The extra was my professor who was quite amused at my selection. After class we went for a drink to discuss it. That discussion eventually moved to her home and continued enthusiastically in her bed until early in the morning. She was a lot of fun.

"And this book?" Corrine continues. "May I ask what it is for?"

"Yes. I'm doing a paper on the history of erotica, concentrating on how it reflects the social mores of the time it was written. I also want to show that the frequency with which erotica was created paralleled the rise of the middle class. As the middle class grew larger, so did the market for it so more was produced."

As last week, she swivels her head towards me and her eyes are frowning in puzzlement.

I get that look all the time. Some people have explained to me the dichotomy between my appearance and my intellect seems too wide to be believed.

We come to the fiction section once more. Going to the appropriate aisle we stop and Corrine turns to face the shelves.

Her face takes on a bewildered look. "That's odd. It should be right there." She points to a spot, waist height.

I move my eyes, searching for my book. "There it is," I remark and point to the top shelf, beyond the reach of either of us.

"Darn!" she remarks. "Who put it there?"

I know the answer to that. I did, earlier in the day.

"I'll go get the ladder," she tells me.

"Not necessary." I step behind her, take her waist in my hands and lift her. She's about the same mass as the weights I often use, so I don't find it difficult to elevate her to the desired height.

"Oh!" she gasps, "What?"

Her ass is in my face. I so want to give a cheek a soft bite, but it's too soon for that. "Have you got it?" I ask.

A quiver runs through her body as my voice teases her bum. I hear a clicking of teeth and a soft sibilance. "Y,Yes," comes a moment later.

I lower her back down to the ground. She turns to me and backs away. Her face is flushed, her eyes glistening. She swallows once more and her chest draws shallow breaths.

I extend my hand, keeping an innocent expression on my face. I make it look like I'm quite unaware of the effect of my actions.

With a shaky hand, she gives me my book. My fingers brush hers as I take it and she jerks back as if shocked. With a visible effort she composes herself, the stuffy expression reappears on her face. She turns and heads back to the front desk, head up and neck stiff.

I fall into step beside her. "Have you read my work at the website I gave you?" I ask her.

Her shoulders hunch for an instant, her mouth grimaces. "N,no."

"I wish you would," I tell her. "I always like to hear the opinions of those involved in literature."

"We, we'll see," she replies. Her body tremors slightly.

We've arrived back at the counter. I hand her the book and she goes through the ritual of signing it out.

As she hands it back to me I say, "Thank you, Corrine. Nice talking with you again."

Her expression softens. The thin line of her mouth pulls up at the corners, just a little. Her eyes crinkle slightly. "You're welcome, Mr. Carson."

"Adam. I've told you that."

Her gaze falls to the counter. "Sorry."

"No problem." I reach across the counter and pat a cheek.

She steps back, her hands come up to her chin and she squeezes the fingers of her right with her left. A flush blooms on her cheeks.

"Good night, Corrine." I head to the exit. Once there, I again turn and give a friendly wave. As last week, she hasn't moved nor does she return the gesture.

"This is going well," I think as I head head for my Hog.

***

Another week has passed and I return to the library for the next step. Corrine sees me as I enter.

Her cheeks immediately redden, her mouth drops slightly and she blinks. Her eyes never leave mine as I approach.

"Good evening, Corrine," I greet.

There's an instant where my soon-to-be playmate smiles. Her face shows both happiness and anticipation. That instant passes and the cool facade Ms. Nevis presents to the world falls back into place.

I pass last week's book to her and she turns to place it in the appropriate cart. "Do you need another book, Mr....Adam." Her shoulders jerk as she almost repeats her mistake and then the fabric over her ass moves as she corrects herself. She bends forward a bit and reaches her hand out to set the tome in it down.

"Yes indeed, Corrine. I need 'Justine' this week."

She straightens with a gasp and drops what was held in her hand. Making a squeaky "Oh!" of embarrassment, she kneels to pick it up.

A "Hmm," of appreciation comes from me. Squatting like that draws the fabric of her skirt taut, displaying her sweet ass. I also notice that again she's wearing seamed hosiery, and stilettos this time. She makes for a very sexy sight.

Blushing at her clumsiness Corrine stands, puts the book away and leads me into the library proper.

"I'm impressed, Corrine. You always know just where to go for what I need." I turn to watch her reaction.

"Thank you," she replies and looks at me. Her smile flashes for another instant before she faces front once more. "It's my job."

"Of course," is what I keep inside. "Tens of thousands of books here and you know just where to find the porn." I make sure I don't chuckle.

"Perhaps we should get the ladder just in case," I tell her. "We wouldn't want something like last week to happen."

Her face snaps towards me, mouth open and cheeks blooming. Turning away again, a tiny tremor shakes her and I see her throat work in a gulp. "N,no," Corrine stammers, "We, we wouldn't." She changes course to carry out my idea.

We arrive at the proper spot and she scans for my requested volume. "Not again," she complains.

"I think somebody's trying to keep it out of the reach of minors," I remark, pointing once again to the top shelf.

"Shit," Corrine declares as she puts the step stool down. She doesn't realise how she's slipped and I don't wish to point it out. When she recalls it will shake her reserve even more.

Mounting the ladder, she reaches up and pulls my request down. She starts to descend.

"Careful!" I exclaim.

She flinches and turns towards me. A mistake on only one foot, in heels at that. Corrine loses her balance and topples towards me.

I step forward and wrap my arms around her waist. She pressed against me now, her sweet tits in my face.

Her arms and legs encase me. A quiver runs through her body and she gasps. There's a moment where her limbs tighten their hold. Then they release.

At that instant I gently lower her to the floor. "Are you all right?" I ask. My face looks concerned, and innocent.

Her body is very stiff and her cheeks are quite crimson. The nod of affirmation she gives me is hardly noticeable. A barely visible sheen of sweat is on her forehead and she swallows audibly.

I reach out and take the book from her hand.

This snaps her from her daze. Corrine heads back to her position at the front desk. Her steps have a frantic feel, as if she's running for cover. Several times she almost stumbles as her knees don't quite hold her up.

The discomfited woman calms on reaching her safe zone. She gets the book from me and starts the process of signing it out.

"Have you taken a chance to read my work yet?" I ask her then.

In response her eyes dart to the computer monitor at a desk placed behind the barrier of the front counter. "N, not yet," the nervous lady responds. Her hand trembles slightly as she hands my acquisition back to me.

"I understand. Thank you again for your help, Corrine."

The actual beginning of a smile appears on her mouth. "You're welcome, Adam." Her eyes start as she discovers what she's doing and her lips resume their usual narrow line.

I exit the library, giving my now standard wave on the way out. Corrine almost raises her hand in return. But again, she stops when she realises she's acting outside her boundaries.

"I'd say that things are progressing nicely," I think as I put my book in the saddle bag of my bike.

***

"I think I'll be able to finish this project tonight." I step into the library and walk towards Corrine.

Her eyes light up at the sight of me, her smile is honest and full. That expression withdraws into curiosity at the way I'm dressed tonight.

I do have my leather jacket on but the rest is very different, a grey dress shirt and black slacks. A Native American bead and turquoise necklace holds my collar closed.

"Good evening, Corrine," I greet as I come to the counter. "I had a small party to go to. Publishers and that. I have to get dressed up at least a little."

"Hello, Adam," she replies. The smile returns. "I was wondering." Her blue irises display a much warmer glow than usual.

She stiffens then. Her standard mask falls into place and she lowers her eyes to hide her feelings even more.

I chuckle inside. Things are moving along very well indeed.

Handing my book to her, she again takes it and puts it on the returns cart. I say nothing. When she turns to face me again her face shows a slight amount of confusion. The usual rhythm of our interaction has been changed a little.

"Do you need another book tonight?" she inquires.

"I do, thanks for asking," I reply.

Her uncertainty is replaced by her stuffy look. We're back in the rhythm.

"I need 'The Pearl' tonight," I inform her.

As the times before, her eyes widen, she blushes slightly and a tiny tremor runs through her. After taking her gulp she says, "This way," and leads me to my request.

I stay close behind her. As we enter an aisle of books, I take an extra long step and catch one of the heels of her shoes under my toe.

The sudden change of balance causes Corrine to stumble, she begins to pitch forward.

Before she can fall, I grab her hips, pull her towards me. My crotch is now pressed against her ass. Her forward leg comes back to restore her balance.

It's a lewd sight we present. Her bent over with her legs spread. And me close behind her, hips in my hands and pushing against her cheeks.

A gasping hiss comes from Corrine. She wiggles her buttocks against me for an instant. I feel her body tremor.

We hold for just a moment, then I step back, releasing her. She straightens and turns towards me.

Corrine's face is ruddy, her eyes blink and are shining. Her mouth is pulled back in a tight line, the corners wavering up and down, unable to choose which emotion to show. Her jacket tightens as she draws a deep breath.

I allow one eyebrow to rise, a salty smile on my face.

Her emotions fix at that, her facial features sharpen and her smile mirrors my own. For a moment. Then they run backwards through surprise, unease and finally the librarian returns. Corrine swivels and leads me through the stacks once more.

She stops when we reach our goal, hesitates. My project glances sideways to make sure the book we look for is in its proper place. Her posture relaxes a bit as she finds there won't be any surprises this time. She pulls out my request, hands it to me and we head back to her counter.
Taking my usual spot next to her I inquire once more, "Have you had a chance to read any of my work?"

Corrine sounds a tiny whine in her throat. "N,no. Not, not yet. S,soon," she replies.

We come to the front desk. I notice her eyes dart towards the computer on her desk once more. Going through the signing out ritual, she soon hands me my research material.

"Thank you," I tell her. Then I turn and head towards the stairs leading to the second floor. Climbing them, I emerge into the area where recent periodicals are kept. I gather a couple up and sit in one of the chairs set in a nearby reading area. This area is placed so I can see the front desk and Corrine. As I take my seat I surreptitiously check the status of my target.

She's still standing where I left her, looking up at me. Her eyes frown in anxiety and apprehension. The beat of our meetings has been completely disrupted and she's confused by it.

I spend the next hour catching up on world events. I often peek over my magazine to watch Corrine. She busies herself at various tasks. More than once she glances my way, or turns to check her computer. Twice she takes the elevator to my floor with the returns cart and replaces the books on their shelves. As she does she flutters around the edge of the reading area, as if wanting to get closer but afraid of doing so.

I glance up suddenly on occasion as she does this. She freezes as I do, acting like a deer in headlights. Corrine flushes and blinks, not moving until I lower my gaze again.

Finally it's time to close the library. I see Corrine leave her work area, start to check the lower level, disappearing from my sight. Soon she reappears and heads to the elevator. As soon as it closes I leave my seat and quickly head down the stairs. I hear the doors open upstairs as I arrive on the first floor. Quietly, I head to the washrooms and hide in the men's. Then I wait.

But not for long. Abruptly the lights in the can go out. She's following the close up routine. I wait for a few minutes and move back into the library proper.

The illumination there is dim, lights turned low. I can't see the front desk from here so I head through the stacks towards the entrance. A glow appears as I draw closer.

Peeking out I can see the front counter. The brighter light emerges from behind it. The bun of Corrine's hair is just poking above the edge of the barrier, outlined in the glow of the computer monitor. Very carefully I sneak up. In a few moments I'm standing where I can watch clearly.

She's sitting at her desk looking at the screen. Her shoulders rise and fall and she sounds a light, rapid pant. The monitor shows a web page, a familiar one. The title across the top of the window shows she's on the website that I have work on, and she's reading one of my pieces. What I call a short piece of smut.

Her entire focus is on the story. She sits motionless, her elbows resting on the arms of her chair, forearms concealed by her back. But she can't keep her hands still. I can tell by the action of what I can see that they move indecisively. Except for when one reaches out to hit the 'Page Down' button, that motion is sharp and firm.

As her attention is so enrapt with her reading I slip around the front counter to stand behind her and a little to one side. From here, I can watch her hands and face.

Her beautiful face is wide eyed and her blue irises are glazed. There is a small slackness to her mouth, it's wide to let her quick breaths in and out. One hand rises to a breast, she squeezes it gently. The next instant, Corrine gasps as if shocked and she returns the teasing digits to her lap.

She hits 'Page Down' again. Her back slumps and she slides her hips forward a little. She spreads her legs as much as the restricting skirt will allow, it rides up her thighs a short distance. Her hand goes down, pets a stockinged limb. Again she gasps and pulls back.

Corrine reads some more, her face grows a soft pink. Her tongue comes out to lick her lips. Her hand strays down to the hem of her skirt once more. It stops there and dithers as her desire conflicts with her fear.

Leaning down I whisper in her ear, "Go ahead, you know you want to."

Her mouth drops and she goes very still. A scream tries to get past her frozen throat. Corrine's eye saucer.

"I guess you like my work," I go on. My breath ruffles her ear.

Her jacket stretches as her chest expands. A very tiny nod answers my observation.

"I'm flattered," I tell her. "But why here?"

"Roommate," Corrine manages to gasp out. "Computer's in the living room. She wouldn't like it."

"She's as prissy as you appeared to be," I note. That tiny nod comes again.

"But here, you can let yourself go. Read, imagine, play." A wicked leer forms on my face and I start to get hard. I'm certain now my project is going to come to a successful conclusion.

Corrine groans quietly at my observation. Her body makes a small shake as fevered emotion washes through her.

"So go ahead," I tell her. "Do what you planned to do. You'll like doing it. You'll like me watching."

Slowly, her trembling hands move down her body and clutch the edges of her skirt. She rucks it up her thighs at the same snail's pace. Those lovely limbs encased in smoky silk come into view. Lifting her ass off the chair for a moment she gathers her garment around her waist. What is revealed is a bit surprising.

"You kinky woman," emerges chuckling from me.

Under her plain garb Corrine is wearing a red satin garter belt, four suspenders holding her stockings up. Her panties are the same material, and crotchless. Her labia glisten in the light, move as little quivers run through her.

The sudden flare of passion this sight evokes makes me grunt. My prick hardens completely. I'm all ready for her. Now I have to make her ready for me.

"No one guesses," I breathe into her ear, "what you're like underneath? Do they?"

She gives a quick shake of her head. Her eyes never leave the screen.

"And you like them not knowing?" I go on.

There's a tiny nod of assent.

"And you wear it because it makes you feel open."

Corrine pulls in a little hiss of breath and doesn't release it.

"It makes you feel free."

She draws more air in.

"You feel hot, sexy."

A small whine sounds as she fills her lungs some more. Her breasts strain her jacket.

"It makes you feel," I pause for effect, "horny."

"Yes!" explodes from her. Her hips jerk, one quick pump as her passion slips from her grasp for a second.

"And you have to do something when you're horny. Go ahead."

Corrine's hands move to her inner thighs, start stroking the sensitive skin. Her hips twitch at the touch. She grits her teeth and a quiet groan oozes from her. She pets gently, her limbs tremble in response.

"How does that feel?" I ask her.

"Oh!" she moans. "It feels good. The touch of me, the silk, the warmth. It makes me excited."

I chuckle in her ear. "That's not the word a woman like you uses. The right one is hot." The last word is almost spit out.

She slams her legs together, trapping her hands between them. Her whole body tremors for an instant. She relaxes and resumes her teasing. The layer of fluids on her labia is thicker, and the musky odour of her tickles my nose.

"You do more than stroke your thighs when you're alone," I tell the passion filled woman. "Go ahead. You know you want to."

Her right hand moves tentatively upwards, in short jerks. An inch from its goal, it stops, shaking.

That makes me laugh softly. "Don't kid yourself. A woman like you can't help but do what she wants. And you do want, so badly."

Corrine mewls, and her hand moves. She runs her fingers over the hot, damp flesh peeking out from her undergarment. They pet her sensitive lips, pressing, playing, teasing. Her whimper changes to sharp gasps as she does.

"Do you like that?" I query. "I want to know what you're experiencing. Tell me."

"I'm so warm, so wet. The stroking..." She pauses to groan. "It makes my muscles tight. My, my heart pound. Oh God, it makes me so excited."

"Wrong word. You're not excited, you're horny."

"Oh!" Corrine squeaks.

"And a horny woman has to do something, doesn't she? Go ahead."

My sweet victim gulps. She curls her hand into a fist with two fingers extended. Corrine hesitates for a second, then pushes those digits into her cunt. She moans, throatily, as she does. Her hand starts leisurely pumping in and out.

"Mmm," I growl into her ear, "that's sexy."

The seated woman's face reddens and the start of a smile appears. The rhythm of her stroking speeds up.

"Tell me what you feel," I instruct her once more.

"God," she gutters. "So good. So hot inside, so sensitive there. I can feel every tiny movement, every wrinkle. It makes me ache, makes me want. Want more."

"More what?"

Her other hand comes up. A single finger is placed on the little nub that's appeared at the top of her folds. Corrine rubs at it, pushes against it. The pumping of the fingers in her pussy speeds up.

"God," she hisses. "So good, so good. I'm so warm, so hot. Tight inside. Oh! Tighter. So close." The cadence of her words change as the end approaches. "Going, to, climax."

"Wrong word," I tell her once more. "You're going to come!"

And she does. Her jaw drops and her eyes blank. A high pitched "Eeee!" bleeds from her. Her back arches and her hips shimmy. But she never stops the motions of her hands.

I can see her cunt clench at her fingers, gripping at them in the crashing bliss that fills her. Those fingers continue their rapid rhythm as her orgasm drives her onwards.

I smile widely. The sight of such a passionate woman caught in such complete joy is intoxicating. My cock now aches with arousal. Sweat starts to bead on my face. I clamp down on my lust, refuse its demand. I want Corrine to be desperate, not merely wanting, before I take her.

Her explosion ends, Corrine slumps in her chair. She removes the fingers inside her and pets softly at herself. Her chest draws sharp puffs that slowly fall to lengthy breaths. Her face is florid and shiny with the sweat of her heat. A heat that's merely banked, not spent.

I reach up and release the clamp that holds her bun in place. The black tresses waterfall down. They're longer than I expected. They would be nearly ass length if she was standing.

"God," I growl. "Why don't you display this lovely hair? It's so very sexy free like this."

Corrine shivers. A smile forms on her lips and she leans her head against me for a second. The next second her eyes widen and her mouth slits. Her hands leave her nether regions and she grips the arm of her chair hard, the knuckles turning white.

Taking the back of the chair, I rotate it clockwise. I step to the right and use a foot to nudge her legs apart. Before she can react, I kneel between them, press the bulge in my pants against her wet slit.

The sweet librarian's eyes flutter as I do. Her mouth falls open and she gasps. For a moment, her back tightens, pressing her mound against me. Then she pulls away. Her eyes grow wide and her teeth chew at her lower lip. She's unsure again, unsure how far she'll be taken, unsure whether she wishes to go that far.

A canny smile appears on my face. I know where I'm taking her and that she will be more than willing to be taken.

I reach up and pluck the eyewear from her face. Placing them on the desk, I look into her eyes and remark, "Why, Ms. Nevis. Without your glasses, you're beautiful."

Corrine smiles at me, taking that ancient line at face value. Again she presses herself against my hardness. And again she pulls back in uncertainty.

I chuckle. My hands go up, I undo one button on her jacket, then another. I take the lapels of it and yank it down, trapping her arms, bringing her tits into display.

"Oh!" she gasps. Corrine's face drops and her lips quiver.

"You've always been helpless, lovely lady," I say to her. "Helpless against your want, your passion. I've only made it real."

As that bit of information hits home she pushes against me once more. Corrine draws a deep breath, her breasts strain against the garment covering them. There are two peaks in the cotton at the tips of those breasts. They seem more prominent than they should be.

Curious, and because I planned to do this, I start to unbutton her blouse. Once all that can be reached are released, I pull it open.

"You are a kinky woman," is my observation at what has been revealed.

Her bra is the same red satin as her garter belt, and a peek-a-boo design. Her nipples and much of her lovely, firm breasts are exposed. Those nipples are just darker than her fair skin, the aureola tiny. Damn, but she looks tasty.

Corrine's eyes light up and her mouth pulls into a grin. The curves at the corners hold a touch of wickedness. A burning flush colours her skin. Her facial features pull back to the ambiguous frown after a moment, but the heat remains.

My head snaps forward. My mouth goes over her right nipple. Snagging it gently with my teeth, I pull at the fleshy kernel. I open my jaw wide and suck hard at her breast, laving it with my tongue soft and fast. My hand takes the other firm mound. I squeeze it with my fingers and my thumb tickles the sensitive point of it.

My plaything sounds a panting grunt. Her back arches, pushing the soft flesh I'm playing with into me. She tremors and her hips press her damp mons against the stiff rod in my pants.

Jesus, but this woman is delicious, and so hot. My head and hands switch breasts. I chew softly, clasp gently. I can taste her sweat and soap, feel the pulsing passion that fires her skin. Suckling and teasing, I push my sweet toy higher.

My head lifts. Grabbing the columns that support the arms of her chair, I push it and her away from me. I lean close to her pretty pussy. Taking a breath, I revel in the lovely odour of her arousal. Her mound is swollen, the lips quiver and her clit stiff. Releasing the air from my lungs, the hot, damp stream of it runs over her sensitive flesh.

"Gah!" gasps the sweaty, lustful woman in the chair. Her body tightens and tremors. She lowers her posture, pushing herself towards me in blind wanting. Her eyes meet mine. The glaze there is sharp. Her mouth simpers, displays the desperation and anxiety that fills her.

Smiling I tell her, "No need for fear. This is what you want, dream about, demand."

"But..." she protests. Then she groans as I lick her left thigh.

"Tell me," I say to her. "I love knowing how you feel." My head returns to her limb. I kiss and lick, reveling in the tight trembling I feel under my tongue.

"God!" she moans. "That's so nice. Makes me feel bright inside, tight inside. My, my vagina..."

"Not vagina," I interject. "A woman like you has a pussy."

"Yes!" Corrine squeals as I return to my play. Her voice is hazed with her lust. "My pussy feels so hot, so wet. It feels so good. I feel so good."

She stops speaking. My mouth is on her cunt now. I take one lip in mine, squeeze it, pull at it. Corrine gurgles. Her eyes flutter and her jaw drops to let in the deep breaths her body needs. I yank at the other labia. The lovely woman keens at the sharp, sweet sensation of it.

Now my tongue runs out and I wash up the length of her slit. The savoury taste of her fluids fill my mouth. My cock jerks at the flavour, I can feel my pre-come seeping from it. I love teasing a woman, especially one as responsive, and conflicted as Corrine. The breaking down of her barriers is such an ego boost.

"Ah!" is that sweet woman's reaction. Her back bends to press herself hard against me. "Yes! Lick me. Play with me. Oh, that's so nice. Never knew..." She pauses to gasp. "...how good it would feel. I'm on fire, so hot." Corrine keens again as I push my tongue inside her.

Lord, what a sensation! Her inner channel is hot, soaking in her tasty fluids. I can feel her muscles pulse as I sweep over every spot I can reach. Holding tight to the chair I lap frantically at her.

Corrine's feet leave the floor, her legs wrap around my head, pull me close. Mouthing blindly, she spits out her passion. She moans, burbles, hisses. Her face is rapt, all awareness consumed by her intense lust.

My mouth moves up, covers her throbbing clit. One hand releases its grip on the chair. I stiffen two fingers, place them at the entrance of her wet quim and push inside.

"Geez!" whines the horny woman. "Good, good. More. Love it! So much, so good." Her body tautens. "Close, close." She pushes out single words with each pant. "Going...to...let...go."

I cease manipulating her stiff bud. My hand slows its rhythm. "That's not the word a woman like you uses."

She looks at me, befuddled. Her body doesn't relax though. Corrine teeters at the very edge.

"A woman like you comes!" I replace my mouth on her clit, suck it in, lave it swiftly. I pump quick and hard into her channel. My fingers seek and find the little sponge, press hard against it.

"Yes!" my plaything shrieks, "cuh..." The last word vanishes in a wail as she explodes.

Her hips pump madly. Corrine quakes as the ecstasy overwhelms her. Her thighs snap tight on my head and quiver. A wave of scorching sweetness, tangy with her passion, washes into my mouth.

I don't cease my ministrations. I've read this woman well. She's quite capable of taking all I can give her, and more.

Corrine relaxes, her joy fades. But not much. As I continue, it rises quickly. In mere moments, she comes again.

That glorious shriek fills the air. Corrine lurches, jerks at random moments. Her mouth is slack, her eyes wide. The empty expression on her face and the sweat beading her brow display the utter fervor that envelops her. For long seconds, she wallows in the fire that feeds on her soul.

Abruptly, Corrine wilts. Her legs slide off my shoulders and hang limply from her hips. Her features are empty, her mouth is lax. But a heat still shimmers in her eyes. Sweat slicks all of her skin on display. Her blouse is translucent in spots where it's absorbed the salt liquid. Her stockings are plastered to her here and there. A damp patch shows on the chair under her still palpitating cunt. The overworked woman's chest heaves as she pants.

My right hand goes to the zipper of my slacks and I pull it down. Moving my jockeys out of the way I pull my throbbing prick into the open. Straightening up, I pull the chair Corrine sits in towards me. My hot flesh comes into contact with the wet mound at the apex of her legs.

Her reaction is an enervated groan. Corrine looks at me, her hooded eyes flickering. She rocks her hips spreading her wetness over my hard rod.

"Did you like that?" I ask her with a lickerish grin. I move my member, running hard, hot flesh over her sensitive clit and lips.

"Gng!" she mouths. Her eyes roll. "Yes, so good. Came so hard, so long."

"You're not done though." I pump again.

"No," comes in a long, sibilant moan. "I need more. I need you. I need you inside me."

"Not the words a woman like you uses," I tell her yet again. "You need my cock."

"Yes!" Corrine spits. Her face lights up. Her teeth grit with desperation. "Your cock. I need it. Give it to me!"

I run my length over her once more. "Do you know why you want my cock?"

Her features blank and she groans. A moment later, a frown of puzzlement furrows her forehead. Corrine knows she wants, oh so very much, but not why.

"Because you're a hot..." I tease her with a stroke of my cock.

Corrine whines.

"...horny..." Another pump of my hips. And I place my crown at the warm, wet cavern of her pussy.

The sweaty librarian gasps, her body goes wire tight.

"...bitch!" And I slide myself into her.

"Oh!" she bellows. Her hands grip the arms of the chair, her legs wrap my ass, they pull me into her. "A bitch," Corrine chants, "a hot bitch. A hot bitch, who needs you. Doing it, to me!" She works hard, helping me drive her to the brink of madness.
"Not doing it," I inform her, "Fucking you!"

"Yes!" emerges in a wavering burble. "Fucking me! Like the," she groans, "hot bitch I am." Her motions speed up. The perspiring woman slams herself against me. Her words fade, buried under the haze of her heat. They come in random intervals, but tell me so much. "Fuck. Bitch. Good. More."

I can feel her pussy squeezing at me. Her hot skin runs over my sensitive head, the warm wetness of her passion bathes it. That passion leaks into my mind, unfocusing my eyes, opens my pores to slick my skin with cooling fluids. That moment where I can no longer control my body moves closer.

Corrine's eyes goggle, her pupils dilate. "Cuh...cuh..." and she shrieks again.

Her channel clamps itself tight on me, her hips pump wildly. She twists and humps, completely lost in her orgasm. Her body freezes for a long moment, her legs hold me tight. A repetitive "Uh!" bursts from her lungs. And she collapses back into the chair.

My lusty librarian gapes at me, her face open mouthed and bright eyed with astonishment. She heaves deep breaths to feed the fire that still burns in her. Releasing their grip on me, her legs fall to the floor.

I give her no chance to recover. Standing, I pull myself from her.

She murmurs, gasps, "No!"

Giving her a wide grin, I pull her from the chair. Guiding her two steps to the front counter I bend her over it. Her tits spread across the cold vinyl that covers the furniture she uses every day.

Corrine groans and shivers at the chill sensation that presses against her erect nipples. A shudder shakes her, makes her lovely ass clench.

"Now you get fucked like the hot bitch you are!" I grunt at her. And I slam myself into her. I hammer at her. The desk she lies on booms at the force of my strokes.

"God!" she shouts. "Yes! Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Like a bitch, a bitch." Her lustful declarations flag, inarticulate groans and gasps replace them. Her cunt thrums around me and heated liquid dribbles from her.

I'm filled with a shimmering brightness. I know nothing except this moment, the feel of my cock filling this glorious woman and the fevered emotions she raises from me. My hips pump blindly, driving me in and out. My moment comes very close and it's only with sheer force of will I hold it back.

Corrine's head snaps back and she bays as her orgasm races through her once more. Her inner muscles clamp tight around me. Her body shakes with the force of her ecstasy. With a 'Pop!' the buttons of her jacket give way. Her hands grip the front upright of the counter and she uses it to lever herself into me. The mad howl of her delight reverberates.

Her pussy releases its death grip on me and her body loosens as the wave of her climax pulls back. Corrine's head lays on the counter, showing her profile to me. Her eyes are slitted, glittering with emotion. Her mouth smiles and then thins with determination.

"More," she whispers. Her head comes up, faces front. "More," she requests again, louder this time. Her arms push, moving her ass back into me. "More!" is her next shout.

I haven't stopped, and so I answer her demand. I bang my crotch against her buttocks, watching them ripple under the satin with the strength of my strokes. I'm at the very edge, seconds away from release. The only thing holding me back is the final lesson she needs to learn.

"That's it!" Corrine cries. "More. Like a bitch, a bitch!"

I take her hair, use it to pull her head back, guide her into the gallop for the finish line. "Not a bitch," I hiss at her. "My bitch." And I let go.

My cock pulses with each shot. It feels like my soul is running out of me, into her, where we meld together into a single mass of joy. All my muscles cord, release, twitch. I'm lost in the vertiginous tornado of my climax.

Corrine snaps hard on me again. A hot wave of fluid oozes from her, wets my sack, soaks into her panties and my pants. She makes a strangled noise as her orgasm forces air past the constriction of her frozen throat. Her body shimmies and shakes, nerves misfiring as beats of ecstasy untune her mind.

We can't seem to stop. Even when my seed runs dry my body keeps working, keeping my mind hazed with rampant passion. Corrine continues panting, growling, tremoring. Her hands loose their grip on the counter, slap at it. All her control has passed to the wanton slut she's kept hidden for so long.

Finally, finally, we stop. With a simultaneous huff of breath our bodies relax.

I'm shaking with fatigue. My legs are almost too weak to hold me up. At the end, it was her carrying me. She went farther than I expected. But not farther than I wanted. There's a ferocious grin plastered on my face. This was a lot of fun.

Corrine lies there, panting hard. Her arms and shoulders twitch slightly. I can see her ass clench at random intervals and at each one her pussy squeezes gently. Her panties are sodden with her fluids.

With difficulty, I step back, my prick leaves the comfortable haven of her cunt. I'm flaccid, completely drained. And I don't care at all. My project turned out much better than expected.

My sweet toy stands straight, draws a deep breath. Taking her hair in her hands, she lifts it up, spreads her arms wide so the dark tresses curtain her back. She clenches her fists, tightens her body, rolls her head. "Oh wow," is her comment.

She turns to me and I can't help but smile in appreciation. My lovely wench looks so sexy.

Her face holds a gratified smile and her eyes are glowing with pleasure. A slick of sweat makes her tits shine and her bra and blouse are damp with it. Her jacket is loose and her skirt still around her waist. The lips of her pussy are fluttering and dewy, the material that frames it a darker red from her spending. Her stockings are splotched in places and have run in two spots.

Before I can move she steps forward and wraps both arms and a leg around me. Her hips roll playing the wet softness of her snatch over the wet softness of my cock. Corrine's mouth covers mine and she gives me a passionate kiss, one I can't help but answer.

I pull her close, fence with her tongue. That fevered passion rise in me again.

Corrine pulls back. "Thank you," she says. "That was fantastic. Just what I always wanted."

"You're welcome," I reply. "Glad to be of service."

Her hand goes down then, eyes following it and she takes my prick in her hand. Corrine squeezes, pumps. And I respond to her playing, start to grow hard.

"Goody!" she exclaims. "Your hot bitch isn't done. I need more." She looks at me and the expression on her face is feral, wanting. Her eyes glint with a wicked hunger that wasn't there before.

"My God! What have I done?" is my remark. It's said in just the tone some scientist in a movie uses when he discovers things aren't working the way he expected.

"Set me free," the wanton I've created tells me. "Showed me what I am. Now stop talking and make your bitch happy!"

"At my place then. Come on." I instruct her. I replace my prick in my pants and zip up as I speak.

She pouts for a second. Then her face grows impish again. "Well, the cleaning crew will be her soon. I've got that prissy roommate. So let's go. It better not be far." She closes her blouse but doesn't button it, displaying a very sweet cleavage and the still stiff points of her nipples. Taking the hem of her skirt, Corrine covers herself.

Grabbing my hand she pulls me toward the door, her anxiousness apparent by the way she tugs at me. "Come on. I don't want to wait."

Smiling at her eagerness I allow myself to be lead. "I'd say this project worked out quite well," is my thought as we head into the night.

FIN

I want to thanks carsonshpherd for his excellent editing. And my proofreaders for their feedback.

Don't forget to vote or comment. I'll write more if I receive accolades from my readers.