Training begins in the library

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This post was last edited by cjlcmh on 2009-7-27 16:44.

I love going to the library. Whenever I open a book borrowed from the library, my penis naturally gets aroused.

Whenever my fingers press on the book, slowly sliding between the pages; whenever I press hard on the pages, feeling the cold texture of the printed paper; whenever I press my thumb on the creases in the corner of the book, gently smoothing them out; whenever I smell the orchid-like, musky fragrance of the ink, I always feel a sense of anticipation, hoping that the next page will contain something erotic.

Although I sit in the library, my body is not in the book. My eyes are on the book, but my mind unconsciously enters into sexual fantasies: as if I am reading an exciting story, or experiencing something I have personally experienced.

However, whether in imagination or reality, my heroine is always her. She is always so beautiful!

She stood quietly before me, her slender, sensual body glistening with sweat, her full lower body covered in lustful fluids. I reached inside, caressing her soft, rounded mounds, playing with her already slippery slit, and pinching her two purple grape-like nipples hard. As she writhed and moaned in pain, my excitement grew, my penis hardening uncontrollably!

Then, I would penetrate her, thrusting into her repeatedly for a long time, listening to her moans and screams—what a wonderful thing that would be…

But it was just an illusion. An illusion that arose whenever I picked up a book!

I am of average appearance, over thirty-five, and a job-hopper who had failed in my career. To secure a position at an advertising company, I had to go to a school in the city center, studying there at night and spending my days in the school library.

But I'm not a good reader. Whenever I face those vast oceans of books—guides, rewards, winning strategies, and all sorts of other things—I always find them monotonous, tedious, and boring. The discomfort is indescribable, but for the sake of livelihood, I can't escape them; I have to grit my teeth and face them every day. Perhaps that's why, whenever I sit in the library, pick up a book, sexual fantasies naturally arise in my mind. I can't escape them, I can't relax; the only thing I can do is masturbate.

Then, I'll relax temporarily, go into the bathroom alone, sit quietly on the toilet, relax myself and my body, hold my throbbing penis, gently caress the two little balls in my scrotum, and gently call her to my side, letting her undress in front of me. I admire her beautiful body, watching her dance for me.

Then, as she opened her secret place, ready to receive my penetration, I continuously thrust my penis with one hand, while gently kneading her two little testicles with the other, blissfully, I wandered further and further into my world of lust. Whether it was pleasure or pain, I only wanted to prolong that solitary enjoyment, not wanting the climax to come so quickly.

After quietly spending those fifteen minutes in the restroom, I would return to the reading room. Before even sitting down, my eyes would first glance at the table opposite me, secretly, silently stealing glances. Because, sitting opposite me was a beautiful girl. A girl named Garfield.

Garfield was a girl with fair skin, black eyes, and curly, jet-black hair. She was the object of my fantasies. In my imagination, she always tightly clenched her alluring, full buttocks, round and large, firm and provocative at first glance. Her two nipples, like purple grapes, were hard and erect, instantly arousing a desire to touch them.

Garfield was actually a Japanese-American girl. She had broad, rounded shoulders, giving the impression of being voluptuous rather than obese. Long, flowing hair cascaded down her baseball cap, falling over her full, pink shoulders. Her lips were full, usually adorned with a light touch of lipstick. Her deep brown eyes were clear and bright, their shimmering light like a poetic ocean. She liked to wear loose-fitting shirts that concealed her full breasts but revealed her slender, white waist.

One look was enough to tell she was a girl with a strong personality!

Every time we came to the reading room, she would always sit opposite me, then look up, smile, and say, "I hope you don't mind me sitting across from you; this is the seat I chose when I first came to the library."

I would smile back and say, "It's my honor, not at all!"

Then, I would force myself to avert my lecherous gaze and try to concentrate on my book.

And so, we sat facing each other every day, each quietly reading. When she read, she always sat upright, practically motionless. Sitting opposite her, I could hear her breathing and smell the fragrance emanating from her. She was completely unaware that right across from her, someone was lecherously watching her, constantly fantasizing about her.

Now she was completely absorbed in studying a book about sketching, so engrossed, so focused, as if the world consisted only of her. But somehow, my intuition kept telling me: she wasn't completely absorbed in the book; her mind was wandering elsewhere! Could it be that, just as I had feelings for her, she had feelings for me too?

"This is terrible! If that's the case, why didn't I go find her first?" I thought to myself. "Even if I'm wrong, at worst she'll leave in anger. Even if it gets to that point of no return, at least I can concentrate on my book."

Having made up my mind, I looked up at her and said, "Excuse me, could I interrupt you for a moment? Why can you concentrate so much when you're reading, while I can't?"

She looked up at me, a faint smile on her face, and said, "I don't know your situation, but for me, books certainly attract me."

For a moment, we were speechless.

Silence created distance between us again.

After a while, she suddenly smiled and said to me, "Don't you find the knowledge in books attractive to you?"

Looking into her clear eyes and her full, light red lips, I suddenly said, "I don't know why, but it only makes me erect!"

My words were too explicit and too crude. I thought she wouldn't be able to stand it and would run away immediately! To my surprise, she wasn't as fragile as I'd imagined. Instead of reacting as I expected, she glanced around, then slowly slid down the chair.

A moment later, I felt her bare feet touch my leg, then move upwards along it, rubbing against my crotch. The desk wasn't narrow, so she had to tilt her body, lifting her feet as high as possible, moving them upwards until they touched my penis. Then, she pressed her toes against it, rubbing them. This

unexpected turn of events made my heart race. I felt a surge of excitement, a tremor rising from my heart and spreading to my genitals. My penis trembled, falling between her small feet. It throbbed under her ministrations, immediately becoming taut and hard enough to cause me a slight pain.

"You're right, it is indeed erect." After rubbing my penis between her legs for a while, she looked at me and said, "I have class in twenty-five minutes. Before I go to class, do you know any good places to go?"

Her words shocked me. I never expected that young woman to speak so bluntly, and even less did I expect that as she spoke, her loose neckline was open, and sitting there, I could clearly see what was under her clothes. She wasn't wearing a bra! Naturally, her two snow-white breasts and her two pale pink nipples came into my view. I was stunned. I had to force myself to control myself and desperately look away from her round, full breasts.

I didn't answer immediately, but my eyes involuntarily drifted towards the bathroom—the bathroom where I had just been masturbating!

Before I could speak, she understood what I meant. She said to me, "Okay, now, I'll go first. I'll go in first, and I won't lock the door. I'll wait inside for a minute or two. I don't want someone else following behind me!"

After saying that, she really packed everything up and left first.

She really left, gracefully and elegantly. I sat in the chair, my eyes fixed on her back, admiring the beauty of her walk. With each step, her muscular buttocks trembled. So beautiful, I was mesmerized!

Was it an illusion? I opened the book I'd borrowed from the library again, but the illusion was gone. Only a strong, unpleasant musty smell, a dusty odor, filled my nostrils!

It was real. I no longer doubted myself. After a while, I stood up and walked straight to the first restroom.

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Training begins in the library

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