Late-night reading room sex

I work a shift at the library every week, specifically at the maintenance desk in the evenings. This is my part-time job, and I earn $8.50 an hour. Although I have enough scholarship money, my academic workload isn't heavy, so I applied for the school's work study program and applied to work in the evenings, usually from 10:00 PM to 11:45 PM when the library closes. Because there are fewer people in the library then, the work is less demanding, and I can sit comfortably at the desk and read. Then, when it's closing time, I use a cart to push the books returned that day from the maintenance desk back to the storage room I'm responsible for, and then put them away according to their numbers. My husband is very supportive of me earning an extra income; when he's not busy with his experiments, he picks me up in the evenings. I
don't remember what day of the week it was, but it was almost closing time, and as usual, I was organizing the books under my care, preparing to put them back in the storage room. The library I was in charge of seemed to store not formal publications, but rather transcripts of debates from the British and American Congresses. Since I have absolutely no interest in politics, I've never looked at them. The advantage, however, is that there aren't many books borrowed and returned each day, so the workload is light. The annoying thing is that these books are stored deep in the basement; going there every night always feels eerie and unsettling.
As I was pushing my cart up the elevator, I suddenly saw him coming out of the reading room across the hall.
Because of what he'd accidentally done to me at the water park, my face immediately burned, and I lowered my head to avoid him, but he spotted me.
He acted as if nothing had happened, enthusiastically helping me push my cart, and I couldn't refuse. It was almost closing time, and many people were heading out; I was bound to run into acquaintances, so I didn't want to get entangled with him there. I politely thanked him and let him push my cart into the Staff elevator.
The elevator fell silent in awkward silence. He tried to start a conversation, but I only responded with simple "uh-huhs." I asked him, "Why are you still in the reading room so late?" He said he was looking up some newly published journal articles.
I immediately realized he was lying. Newly published journals are available online; there's no need to come to the library. More importantly, science journals aren't even kept in the correlatory reading room; it only has general-access journals and social science journals. But at the time, I didn't consider his motive for lying. I just thought he might be hiding something, maybe he was looking at a women's magazine.
The elevator doors opened with a "whoosh," revealing a long, cold, white-lit corridor. Turning right at the end of the corridor led to the section of the library I was responsible for. He pushed the cart of books ahead, and I followed silently behind. This quiet corridor always made me feel uneasy. Once
inside the storage room, I placed the books from the cart back on the shelves according to their numbers. There weren't many books, but because they were unofficial publications, the paper was thick, making them very heavy. He offered to help me put them away, but I was worried that since he hadn't received library training, he might get the order wrong. So I just let him carry the books while I placed them one by one myself. Only the last book remained, in a narrow alley deep inside the room.
The room was roughly circular, with bookshelves arranged in a staggered pattern radiating from the center. However, on one side of the circle, there was a square alley. There, a row of bookshelves stood close together without any gaps. To get a book, you had to press a button to move the bookshelf, creating a gap next to the desired shelf. You could then slip through this gap to find a second, similar shelf, also controlled by a button. This section contained historical documents that weren't frequently consulted.
I pressed a button, squeezed into the gap, and moved the book back to the second shelf. This required pressing the button again, creating a narrow aisle between the shelves. We walked in together. The cramped space made me feel a little uncomfortable.
I took the book, stood on tiptoe, and tried to put it back on the shelf, but it was too high, and I struggled. There was no ladder between these moving shelves. So I had to stretch my arms upwards, pulling Shirt's lower body up. I felt a cool sensation in my lower abdomen, but then, I felt a warmth. It was his hand.
In the narrow aisle, he pressed tightly against my back, his hand encircling my waist, gently resting on my exposed abdomen, a warm sensation spreading through me. His familiar breath tickled the back of my neck.
I tried to put the books away, then struggled to break free from his embrace, but it was futile. I knew it, because I'd known it before.
His hands continued to gently caress my body, one hand stroking my waist, the other moving upwards, but Shirt restricted his freedom. He began to unbutton my shirt. Five buttons, each one undone, and my heart trembled, my body shaking—I didn't know if it was fear or excitement.
Shirt was completely undone, but he remained pressed against my back, pulling open my shirt. My bare upper body, covered only by a thin white bra, was directly exposed to the cold metal bookshelf and neatly stacked piles of old books. This strange environment, strangely, stirred a faint pleasure within me.
He suddenly grabbed my breasts roughly through my bra, kneading them forcefully. Between the sudden movements, I couldn't help but cry out. He tried to unhook my bra, but he was pressed against me, and the back clasp was too tight. He tried to tear it open, his haphazard pulling making me suffocate, unable to breathe. But I hadn't expected CK bras to be so durable; they wouldn't tear. I had to free my hands to help him, gesturing for him to give me a little space, and then I unhooked the back of my bra. He excitedly ripped it off, pushing me naked against the cold metal bookshelf with too much force. My nipples immediately hardened and stood erect.
He seemed to think that roughness elicited a better response from me than gentleness, so he began to act recklessly. His large hands squeezed my breasts painfully, leaving his finger marks on my fair skin. His other hand tried to undo my pants, but again, he failed. I had to tell him to turn around so we wouldn't be stuck in the aisle. He then realized what was happening, pulled me along the narrow passageway to the wall at the end, pressed me against it, and began kissing me passionately. His kisses drove me wild.
I gasped and asked him if he wanted me to use my mouth. He was startled at first, then realized what was going on and hurriedly unbuttoned his jeans. His body trembled violently as he panted, and it took him a lot of effort to unbutton them. I knelt down, pulled down his jeans, flipped open his dark blue checkered boxer shorts, and grasped his burning hot penis, which truly required one hand to hold.
His penis was a little different from my husband's; it was sticky and astringent at the tip and much thicker, so when I first put it in my mouth, my teeth accidentally scratched him, causing him to groan in pain. The taste seemed different too; his taste was more astringent, with a hint of almond. I gently licked him with the tip of my tongue, then nibbled like a kitten, going deeper and deeper, while simultaneously moving my hand back and forth rapidly… Suddenly, a loud announcement blared like a bolt from the blue: “The library will be closed in 5 minutes.” This announcement was for Staff, who worked in the library, since the announcement for the students had already been played, and the students should have all left by now.
He was startled, and then suddenly ejaculated rapidly, getting a mouthful of sticky stuff on me… A little disappointing, but I had to leave. I straightened my clothes and went outside with him. At the corner water tap, I cleaned my mouth; because it happened so suddenly, I had swallowed most of it, just rinsed it carefully.
He left first, and I returned to the maincurrency desk. Everyone else had left, except for Supervisor, who was still waiting for me. I hurriedly gave him a brief report on my work, then slung my bag over my shoulder and left the library. At the entrance, I ran into him chatting with my husband, who had come to pick me up. We
went home together.
He remained calm and composed, as if nothing had happened.
When we got home, I eagerly snuggled into my husband's arms…
I straddled him, writhing passionately; that night was incredibly enjoyable… Afterwards, when I went to the bathroom to clean up, I discovered my fingerprints. Thank goodness my husband didn't see them!
[The End]

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