(∗Author’s Note: This story was written for an event called Bedtime Stories. This called for a selections which should be three to five minutes long with a scene containing lots of action, since people will be acting it out. There’s nothing to “act out” about a couple people sitting around a table and talking.)
Librarian Shayla stopped in the doorway of the old supply room to watch Dewey at the computer checking ever so diligently that each of the old cards in the library’s card catalog was properly inputted into the system years ago. Since the head librarian retired last year, they can finally recycle the old system.
Dewey, one of the library’s regular patrons, volunteered for this assignment, which meant Shayla and Dewey were in close quarters for the last week. One week was long enough to realize what she wanted.
She stepped into the windowless space. Being a Saturday, he wore gym shorts and a t-shirt. It added to his attractiveness, getting a view of his muscular legs and broad shoulders.
“Dewey,” she said in her best bedroom voice.
“Hey, Shayla,” he said as he swiveled around in the chair. His jaw dropped and his eyes bulged out like a cartoon character when he saw her. She changed out of her more conservative attire in favor of a short skirt, a lacy pink bra, and a sheer, tight button-up shirt.
“Dewey,” she said again. “The library closed ten minutes ago.”
With a shake of her ample hips, she pushed the door closed. Dewey white knuckled the sides of the armless the chair as Shayla leisurely walked over to him, swishing her hips left and right as she went.
After what felt like hours, she finally made it to the desk. “You know Dewey,” she said while bending over at the hips so she was face to face with him. “I got your number. Your decibel number.”
He swallowed hard while he stared at her breast. “Is that so?”
She popped up and leaned back against the desk. “I think you want to check me out.” She raised foot and placed it on the chair between his legs, only then did he notice her lack of shoes.
He stammered nonsensical words, his mouth opening and closing like a ventriloquist dummy as his eyes traveled downward to the skirt, exposing her dainty, lacy pink panties.
“I bet you’re ready to open my covers and lose yourself in the subject.”
“I think you might be right,” he said to her groin. His tented gym shorts couldn’t hide his erection.
She tilted his head up with a single finger, lifting the bottom of his chin. “Tell me, Dewey, do you like to start on the first or the last page?”
Dewey’s hands wrapped around her calf, lightly moving up her leg. He rose, pushing her foot down, and grabbed her hips, crowding her on the desk.
“You and me, I think we’ve gotten past the beginning of this story. Let’s continue in the middle.” He kissed her hard, invading her mouth with his tongue.
She opened for him, greedily sucked his tongue, and pulled him tighter against herself. With a tightened grip on her hips, Dewey spun her away from the desk, knocking catalogue cards all over the floor under their feet. He ended the kiss and pushed her back into the chair.
The way she bit her bottom lip made him groan. A quick flick of his finger opened up her button-up shirt, exposing the losing battle her bra had on her amble bosom. Her chest rose and fell, pants of needs escaping her.
“There’s something I’ve always wanted to try. I wanna see if my bookmark fits,” he said. His deep voice gave her visible chills down her spine. Slowly, he lowered his shorts and underwear to the ground.
His freed cock bounced up and down. Shayla’s head nodded in time with it. She couldn’t look away. Teeth marks began to show on her bottom lip. A tentative hand reached out toward his dick, but stopped. She leaned forward instead, tongue out, ready to lick the bead of pre-cum off the tip.
His hand stopped her from coming closer and pushed her against the back of the chair. “Not yet,” he said. His body leaned forward, hands reached out to caress her breast, and his dick settled into her cleavage.
Shayla’s hands rested on top of his and squeezed her breast around his aching length. “I thought you’d go full 813.085 romance, but you’ve surprised me with a good old-fashioned titty fuck. I never knew you’d go for 808.803538.”
Dewey chuckled. “I love erotica. And there is no one I’d rather try these ideas with than you.”
He moved his cock before she could reply. Her body moved with his. Taking a chance had never felt this good.
Thank you for reading. Come back next month for a new short from Fancy.
