Lessons from the Librarian

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Home sweet home, she thought, looking around her at the library carrel that had become her nest over the past months as she worked to finish the school year. Now, late at night, late in the week, late in the semester, the desk and shelves were barely visible under the stacks of books, marked-up essay drafts, and multicolored sticky notes. The glow from her laptop was rapidly overtaking both the fading twilight outside and the dim overhead lamps, which seemed to be designed not only to protect the delicate scholarly volumes but also to amp up the spookiness quotient of the library. Tonight the gloom was augmented by the weird purple sky that presages the onset of an early summer thunderstorm, plus the eerie emptiness of campus buildings minus the better part of their student hordes—it truly was the end of the exam period and almost everyone had already departed for the summer. But not Emma. In fact, this new essay was really just getting started, which meant there were going to be even more books in her carrel-fort very soon. She had been distracted for the past few days, ever since her strange, surprising, wildly hot night in the design lab—the whole thing had left her confused and kind of perpetually aroused—but it really was time to get down to business and do some work.

She checked the library catalog and swore softly under her breath when she saw that the books she needed were all the way in the lowest level of the library, in the sub-most of the sub-basements. There was always something a little creepy about those quiet, creaky hallways. In the lesser-used parts of the stacks, the lights were on timers, activated only when someone came by and designed to shut themselves off after a few minutes. Ten out of ten for energy conservation, but minus several million for definite slasher film vibes.

Because of all that, her heart rate was already a little elevated as she took the elevator down into the depths of the building. When she stepped off, she could see and hear a few other people rummaging around, though, and she relaxed a bit as she went off to find her books.

She had located the first one and started paging through when her eye was caught by a slim volume on the shelf below—a collection of stories by Anaïs Nin. It fell open in her hands to a passage where a young ingenue was being seduced by a worldly-wise woman. Emma was instantly engrossed, all thoughts of her original mission lost to the languid prose. Nin had always struck her as simultaneously incredibly hot and yet strangely cool—distant, removed. Maybe it was the fact that she had only read the stories in translation; would they read differently in the original French? This led her mind to tangential thoughts on the intimacies of language and a brief but exciting digression into all the resonances of the word “tongue.” The Nin was open in her hand but her eyes were unfocused, seeing something far beyond the page. Then the lights went out.

Emma gave a startled yelp and dropped the book, scrambling to get her bearings in the dim. Her flustered movements caught the motion sensor and the lights clicked back on, making her feel silly—the primal fear that had rushed through her system in the few moments of darkness had left her a little breathless, but now she had to laugh quietly at herself for that reaction. She started to gather her things and was about to move on when she saw another light click on from the corner of her eye. Several shelves down the row, a tall figure stood with its back to her. She did a quick mental scan of the floor—of course, that person was in exactly the section she had to visit for the next book on her list. Ten floors of books in this library and yet there’s always someone else who needs the exact same shelf you do.

With the quiet sigh of a misanthropic scholar, she walked slowly down the row toward the necessary shelf. Eventually she was right behind the stranger, who still hadn’t turned around. It looked like Emma would have to make the first move.

“I’m sorry, excuse me—” No response. “I’m sorry, I need to just sneak in—” Still nothing. She sighed, and raised her voice beyond a library whisper: “Hey, can you please move?” She reached out and tapped the figure’s shoulder.

The figure finally turned, a slim book held open in long fingers, and Emma saw the tiny earbuds in each ear, the dark red lips, and the familiar face of the hot librarian she’d been watching all semester at the main desk upstairs. She was gorgeous, with fine features and dark brown eyes, her short hair dyed an unexpected, rather unnatural shade of silvery blonde.

“Hey, sorry, did you say something?” The woman pulled the headphones from her ears, smiling. “It gets so quiet down here, the tunes help pass the time. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone.” She gestured towards a nearly empty cart of books that she had clearly been reshelving.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m just looking for a book. And I think I it’s right…there.” She pointed. “You’re a librarian, right? I’ve…seen you. Around.”

“I am. It’s Cat. casino şirketleri Nice to meet you. I’ve seen you around, too.” The librarian smiled again. “You work late.”

Emma blushed, but she wasn’t quite sure why. “Cat. Hi. I’m Em. Emma. Hi. I guess I do work late. So many books, so little time, you know?” She was rambling. And giggling. The librarian met her eyes, and smiled some more. It was a very nice smile.

Emma forced herself to break off her gaze and turned toward the bookshelves. She finally located the last volume she needed, on the very top shelf, and stretched up to grab it, but couldn’t quite reach. Blushing again, she looked around for a step stool, but in vain.

The librarian, who had a couple of inches on Emma even without the heels of her big black boots, watched the scene unfold with another of those smiles—this time distinctly edging into smirk territory.

“Do you need a hand?” Cat asked, holding out hers as an offering. The edge of a tattoo peeked out below the sleeve of her shirt, which was rolled up to reveal strong forearms and honey-colored skin. Emma imagined following the ink up to the curve of her shoulder, the long sweep of her back, the nape of her neck below her short-shorn hair…

“No! No. I’ve got it.” She reached again, hiding her flushed face against the clothbound spines, but the book was just beyond her hand. She raised higher on her toes, balancing precariously, and was about to finally swipe it off the shelf when she felt the length of Cat’s body suddenly press up against the back side of hers, Cat’s arm tracing up along her side to easily pluck the book from its spot and pull it down.

Emma turned, slowly, in the tiny space between Cat’s body and the shelf, until she was looking directly up into Cat’s eyes, her back pressed against the books. Cat was still holding the prize aloft, close to Emma’s head.

“Thanks,” Emma tried to say, but it came out a hoarse whisper. Cat held her gaze, unblinking and intense. She leaned even closer and spoke softly into Emma’s ear.

“At your service.” At the feel of Cat’s breath on her neck, warm in her ear, Emma shivered and let out a little involuntary sigh. They stood that way, frozen, faces just inches apart, for the longest moment of Emma’s life, everything quiet and still. Then, without warning, the overhead lights clicked off.

As though this was a sign she’d been waiting for, Cat finally moved, raising her empty left hand to Emma’s shoulder. She ran her fingernails gently along the side of her neck, up into her hair. She moved so slowly, so quietly, that the motion sensors didn’t register the little touches—but Emma certainly did. When Cat’s hands had reached the ticklish spot at the base of Emma’s skull, they paused there, and waited—Emma looked up, her every cell abuzz with electricity. When their eyes met, Cat spoke a single word, a question: “Yes?”

“Oh. Yes.” Emma responded. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Cat’s perpetual Cheshire smile finally split into a laugh as she dropped Emma’s much-sought book on the floor and pressed her against the bookshelf, hard. Her hand wrapped around Emma’s long ponytail and pulled back firmly, exposing Emma’s pale, naked throat. The movement was enough to finally remind the motion sensors that they were there, but as the lights flickered back on, Emma’s eyelids fluttered shut in pleasure. Cat bent her head to run her lips lightly along the sensitive skin there, savoring the way Emma squirmed and hummed at her touch.

Meanwhile, Emma’s hands had risen, unbidden, to Cat’s hips, holding her closer with every shudder, her own hips reaching up to meet them. As Cat’s exploratory kissing became more and more adventurous, Emma’s hands moved up her back, catching in Cat’s silver-blonde pixie cut as Cat made quick work of the top buttons on Emma’s blouse and her head moved along the newly exposed collarbone.

Emma murmured in pleasure as the warmth of Cat’s mouth turned her insides to a matching golden glow. She dug her fingers further into Cat’s hair and tugged her head up until their lips met, full and hard.

The kiss began slow, firm, sweet but quiet. Emma felt herself relax into the softness of Cat’s mouth and breathed out another little moan in the middle of the kiss. A kind of growl came from Cat in response, and the character of the kiss changed. They were suddenly hungry, drunk and looking for further intoxication. Emma’s hands framed Cat’s face, pulling her closer and closer. Cat’s hands were everywhere at once—pulling Emma’s shirt from the waistband of her skirt, running up underneath to trace her sides, and down to trip along the soft line of flesh along the edge of her panties.

While Cat’s fingers made these forays, Emma brought her lips to Cat’s ear and ran her tongue lightly along the delicate curl there, nipping at the lobe, breathing soft, whimpering little cries hot and close.

“That feels amazing,” she whispered. “You’re driving me wild. I want you all over me.” She barely knew what she was saying, but the words spilled out. “I want casino firmaları to bite you and leave a mark. I want to taste your mouth. I want to taste every part of you. I want your mouth on me, I want you to tease me until I can’t stand it.”

As she recited her feverish litany, Cat’s hands ventured further, further, further still, sweeping closer and closer to the parts of Emma that buzzed the fastest, burned the hottest. Finally, her fingers grazed quickly back and forth over Emma’s hard nipples under the lace of her bra, sending a shock through her whole body and taking away her power of speech. The sound Emma made was somewhere between a shout and groan, and it sounded shockingly loud in the quiet of the library basement.

“Shhh,” hushed Cat. “I want to keep doing this—” she strummed her thumb firmly against the nipple, “don’t you?”

Emma’s response was the softest moan she could manage.

“I thought so. I’m going to take off your shirt now.” Cat unbuttoned the blouse and tossed it over her library cart. She dipped her head again, nipping at the tips of Emma’s breasts where they strained against her bra. In response, Emma ran her hands up Cat’s sides, pulling her shirt up and over her head in a single movement.

The heat of Cat’s skin matched her own—there was a fine sheen of sweat along her back despite the air-conditioned cool of the cavernous room. Emma kissed along the side of her neck, tasting the salt of it, of her, while Cat continued to pinch and play with Emma’s nipples, building up the lovely warm fizzy feeling in her lower belly until it was almost unbearable.

As the heat continued to grow, Cat slipped one leg between Emma’s, pushing her knees gently apart and grinding slowly against her. Emma felt another lightning jolt as her the wetness in her panties slid against the rough fabric of Cat’s jeans, creating a delicious friction in the part of her that was buzzing the most, the very heart of every physical sensation. She clenched her thighs around Cat’s leg, drawing small circles with her hips to keep the buzz growing.

Emma leaned away and moved her hands to Cat’s breasts, pulling down on the cup of her white cotton bra until the breast fell softly out into her hand. Her head drifted down until her mouth alighted on the other girl’s small, round breasts, kissing each nipple gently in turn, then back again, a nibble this time, then again, a sharp little nip that made Cat yelp and then sigh.

“Who’s noisy now, miss librarian?” she purred into Cat’s neck as she rolled a nipple between her fingers. In response, Cat ran her hand down the length of Emma’s body, all the way down the front of her skirt, and this time she didn’t stop at the waistband of her panties. Emma gasped as she felt Cat’s hand cup her between her legs, and a single finger traced the slick cleft there several times while Cat looked directly at her. Emma was hypnotized by her large, soft brown eyes and her long, clever fingers and the soft, sing-song tone of her voice.

“Oh, yes. You’re positively dripping, Emma. You’re so wet and warm and ready for me. What a sweet little thing. What a lovely, sweet pussy you have. I want to touch it, and I want to taste it. I’m going to make you come, Emma. Would you like that?”

The answer came between ragged breaths: “Yes, please, yes. I want that, please.”

Cat smiled in response. “I know you do. But remember, you must keep quiet, or else I’ll have to stop. Now I want you to take off those soaked panties.”

Sparing no thought at this point for the fact that they were in a public space and barely knew each other—or for her own limited experience with women (summer camp, picnic, enlightening), Emma did as she was told, stepping out of her underwear and looking back at Cat for further instruction.

“Now pull up your skirt so I can see your hot little pussy.”

Although the words would normally have shocked her, Emma was far beyond blushing at this point, her cheeks a permanent pink, and every inch of her body told her to keep going. She inched the stretchy fabric of her pencil skirt up to her waist, exposing the pale tops of her thighs and the soft curves of her hips.

Cat grabbed her around the waist and pulled her over to the forgotten book cart. She pushed Emma back until she was leaning against the cart, perched on the empty top shelf. Then she ran her hands along the insides of Emma’s legs and pulled her knees apart, placing each of Emma’s feet on the lower shelf, so her legs splayed out, leaving her open and exposed. At first the position gave Emma a moment of embarrassment, but Cat quickly soothed that away with the touch of her hand, lulling her until the the soft, needy haze of her arousal was all she felt.

Cat knelt down, bringing her face between Emma’s legs. The cart was the perfect height; Emma wondered for a single moment exactly how Cat had discovered that delightfully convenient fact before Cat leaned in and licked her, slowly, and all logistical consideration completely fled her mind. Her whole body stilled, alert güvenilir casino to every movement of Cat’s tongue, which moved in long strokes, up along the length of her slit to the pulsing, tingling button at the top, over and over again. She didn’t linger on any particular spot, but the measured, rhythmic repetition built up more and more tension in Emma’s body, everything clenching from her hands where they grasped the cart to her legs to her pussy, waiting for and fearing and needing what might come next.

Cat listened to Emma’s breathing, uneven, shallow, fast. She loved the way Emma’s body belied the control she was clearly trying to exert as she stayed quiet and still. It was time to take the challenge to the next level.

Cat brought her hand up and traced the same path her tongue had taken seconds before, up and around, making slow circles. Then, she began to speed up, and alongside this increasingly intense stimulation she added a series of kisses and bites on Emma’s inner thighs. She glanced up to see Emma’s eyes tightly shut, her mouth open, her back arching with pleasure and tension.

“Emma. Emma. Open your eyes. I want you to look at me.”

With her mouth still open, panting, Emma glanced down. As their eyes met, Cat spoke again, very softly, running her thumb back and forth across Emma’s clit as she did.

“I’m going to take care of you now. I’m going to make you come. But you still need to be very quiet for me. If you aren’t, I’m going to stop. Do you understand?” Emma nodded, transfixed. “Good girl.” As Cat said those words, looking Emma directly in the eyes, she moved her fingers down again, and this time, in a single, smooth motion, she buried them in Emma’s tensed, ready pussy. Emma let out a single, strangled sigh before catching herself, and her legs tensed again, raising into the air by instinct to give Cat better access. Cat moved her fingers in and out of the slick place between Emma’s thighs in an unrelenting rhythm as her mouth moved to the place just above, that hard and soft pink spot where Emma most wanted her to be.

Cat’s tongue lapped at Emma’s clit in small circles and twirling spirals and her lips sucked gently in turn, pulling every buzz of pleasure out of the girl’s tense limbs. The only sounds were the wet swish of Cat’s fingers and mouth, the gasps and panting of Emma’s barely controlled agony, and the lightest whispering of the books rubbing together on the bottom of the heavy cart. Cat listened intently as Emma’s breaths became more and more uneven, the gasps more frequent, sensing an orgasm rising swiftly in her trembling body. When the panting suddenly stopped altogether, Cat peeked up at Emma and saw her looking down at her own splayed legs, the red skirt riding up well above her hips, with Cat’s golden head nestled there between, and the familiar, dark shelves of the library beyond. She was holding her breath, hypnotized by the excitement of the scene, the incredible overflow of feeling coming from Cat’s fingers sliding in and out of her, Cat’s mouth torturing her, and her own fingers where they had sought out her breasts and were now pinching and twisting her nipples in an echo of the movements taking place below.

As they locked eyes, Cat stood. Her hand continued to move, her fingers pushing deep and firm, until she was face to face with Emma. She then moved her hand up to Emma’s clit and rubbed in fast, punishing circles as she leaned in to suck hungrily on her nipples, her neck. Emma was on the edge of losing control, her vow of silence tested almost to breaking—she whispered quietly, over and over into Cat’s ear, a barely audible entreaty: “Please please please please yes please yes oh please.” Cat increased the tempo of her caresses once more, finding the frequency that would finally overwhelm Emma entirely. Emma’s legs wrapped around Cat’s waist and their bodies thrust against each other, tighter, harder. At the crucial moment, just as Emma’s pleasure reached its peak, Cat kissed her, hard, claiming her mouth entirely, feeling the low moan that moved directly from Emma’s throat to her own as Emma’s body twitched and shook.

When Emma emerged from the trance of her orgasm a long minute later, she stared at Cat and then at the shelves around them with a look of wild happiness and increasing bewilderment. “I..” she tried to speak, rearranging her skirt, searching for her underwear. “Did we——did I? Did we really just…” the words were beyond her, and all her embarrassment seemed to come rushing in at once. Cat saw this taking place and rushed to save Emma from herself. With gentle hands, she gathered Emma to her and pulled her to the floor, nesting the girl’s still-shuddering body between her legs and wrapping her arms around her. She spoke calmly and softly into Emma’s ear as her breathing returned to something approximating normal.

“You did. We did. And it was hot, and I want to do it again. Soon.” Emma’s eyes widened, and she looked around the library again. Cat laughed. “Not here, Emma. Somewhere with a bed. And a door, with a lock. And maybe a few other…amenities.” She whispered that and ran her tongue lightly along the edge of Emma’s ear with a wicked grin that Emma could sense even without turning to look. “Would you like that? Would you like to play some more with me?”

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