Lustful Letters: The Naughty Librarian
It’s amazing what one can find in a library… especially if one is mistaken for a librarian…
“Excuse me, can you help me?”
I heard the deep baritone of that voice, behind me and slightly to the left. Standing near the romance section of the library, I peered out of the corner of my eye and a slight smile curved my lips as a deliciously wicked thought flitted across my mind. I turned to the young man so close to me and quietly took in his appearance. Broad shoulders, long legs, and a face made to charm the panties off willing females. My wicked thoughts became a plan – a deliciously carnal idea.
“What can I do for you?” I asked. I reached up to check my hair, securely clasped in its clip. The action pushed my breasts up, straining against the buttons of my blouse. I smiled to myself when he immediately glanced down.
“I need,” he swallowed, still staring at my breasts. He looked like he was willing the buttons to pop.
I stepped closer, my breasts landing lightly on his chest. With a tip of my fingernail, I brought his chin up, my lips mere inches from his. “Tell me, love. What do you need?” I whispered.
There was no mistaking my meaning. I saw his eyes light up in sexual recognition. He grabbed my ass and shoved me against his jean-clad cock. I wiggled a bit to get the feel of the land, so to speak, and I wasn’t disappointed. My young stud was packing.
“Where?” he asked then kissed the valley between my breasts, while his hands roamed up my skirt.
I pulled his hair roughly, slamming his head against the bookshelves. “Little boys are so impatient. I prefer men.” I shoved his hands away, then kissed him with passion, my tongue giving him a taste of what was in store for him if he played by my rules. I ended the kiss with a nip to his lower lip, drawing blood. He winced.
“Bitch,” I heard him murmur as I walked away. Didn’t matter. I knew I had him. I’d make him pay for that piece of impudence, though.
Three days later, I walked into the library, and there he sat, open book on the table, but staring at the side door in which I’d exited that fateful day. I walked toward him, my heels clicking on the marble floor. He turned and a smile of relief lit his face before it was replaced with a cocky smirk and a nod in my direction. Silly boy! Like I was going to put up with that nonsense.
I walked past him, heading for the reference area in a small chamber at the back of the library. At the end of the narrow room, I hopped upon a table, crossed my legs and waited.
I didn’t have to wait long.
He peered cautiously into the darkened area, spotted me and quickly closed and locked the door. Did he really think I was the type of woman to be fucked and forgotten?
I saw him turn and saunter toward me, that cocky grin upon his face. Apparently, he believed he was in charge. I was about to disabuse him of that notion.
As he walked toward me, I lifted my skirt, exposing my red lace thong. I began fingering myself through the lace, my head thrown back and my hips thrust forward. It felt good. I knew his eyes were feasting upon me, so I dipped one finger in my pussy and brought it to my lips. “Mmmm, so good. Wanna taste?” I whispered as I planted my stilettos on the table, opening myself fully to his gaze.
The poor boy practically tripped over his own feet running to kneel before me. He leaned in, tongue out, but I flicked it forcefully with my fingers, pulling his hair so he was forced to look up at me. “If I am a bitch, boy, then you are a dog!”
His eyes widened as he recalled his previous comment. He started to sputter a lame excuse, but I slapped him hard, the sound echoing off the walls. “Kneeling at my feet is your proper place.” I tugged his head forward between my legs. “Know your Mistress’ scent.”
I felt his breath upon my thighs. I sensed his tension, his need. It matched my own, but he must know who was in charge. He leaned in closer, the tip of his tongue touched my clitoris. I jerked him back, forcing him to look into my eyes. “Do you dare?” I growled.
I shoved him sideways and he fell back. I hopped off the table, stepping close to his face and glancing at his massive erection. I wanted that; my pussy pulsed and my cream dripped along my thigh. But rules must be adhered to.
“Lick my shoe and know who your Mistress is and where you belong. You only get what I wish to give you, dog.”
He glanced at me in anger but I simply quirked an eyebrow and placed my other heel on his groin, pressing slightly. I felt his cock twitch.
Leaning forward but never taking his eyes off me, his tongue extended to lick at the tip of my shoe. He circled the tip of my toe, peeking out from the peep-toe shoes, and groaned. I knew I had him then, so I slipped off my other shoe and gently rubbed his cock with the ball of my foot.
He looked askance at me and I nodded, bracing myself against the table as he slipped off my other shoe and continued to lick my foot, my ankle, my calf. I countered his action by massaging his cock and ball sac with my toes. When he reached my inner thigh, I tugged his hair once again. He looked up with something akin to worship in his eyes. I smiled down at him. “You may lick the cream from my thighs, but no more.” I buried his head against my wet pussy, then tilted it to my thigh. He moaned but did as instructed.
His tender ministrations coupled with the feel of his twitching cock against my toes as I rubbed his jeans, soon had me aching to cum. When I knew I could stand the tension no longer, I shoved him back on his haunches. “Do you want to cum with your Mistress?”
At his frantic nod, I pulled off my sopping thong and flung it at him, hitting him in the face. “Eat it,” I commanded and he shoved it in his mouth.
I hopped back on the table, spread myself wide and shoved three fingers in my pussy, my thumb circling my clit. I heard him groan and pant. “You wait for your Mistress, pet.” I glanced at him, noticing his hand hovering over his jean-clad cock but not touching. “Go on, love. Pleasure yourself.”
He immediately unbuttoned his pants and his cock sprang free. His hand gripped his thick stalk and pumped furiously. It was all the impetus I needed and I screamed, “Now!” as I came, flying over the edge of passion.
As my heart rate settled, I glanced over at my newest conquest. He lay flat on the cold marble floor, his cum spewed all over his t-shirt, his eyes closed and my panties hanging from his mouth. I wiggled off the table, walked over to him, plucked the panties off his lips and inserted my business card into his mouth. “I’m not a librarian, pet, but contact me if you’d like another lesson.”
By the end of the day, this came via email:
My dearest Mistress…