I dream of being tapped on the shoulder by the night circulation desk librarian, who means to alert me that the library will close in 10 minutes. But the instant we lock eyes, I can see him harden beneath his tweed librarian pants. I pull him close, breathe into his neck, and push him onto the desk chair across from me. He’s already pulling my sweater off as I straddle him. My hands reach for his zipper as he yanks up my skirt to realize I’m not wearing panties. ‘Ok?’ he whispers. ‘More than ok,’ I moan, and he enters my slick pussy in one swift motion. My hands grab at loose papers as he pulls me back and forth like a wave on the ocean. The smell of old books and yet unknown knowledge overwhelms me as we come together beneath the warm library lights. Leaving him gasping, I pull my backpack on, draw my jacket tightly around me, and saunter into the snowy Ithaca night with minutes to spare.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ku2jkc/23_f_when_im_alone_in_the_library_late_at_night
I like this
Fantastic word picture. Please keep writing
Thought tweed trousers a bit weird, but the bit about the smell of the old books moved me from a more modern day library to something far more aged.