In the Stacks Ch. 02

The library had been pretty uneventful in the months following my encounter with the stranger in the stacks. Things were back to normal much to my dismay. The stacks were quiet and empty once again and I began working more at the front desk hoping to catch the stranger entering the library. I was sure I would catch some glimmer of recognition in his eyes and know instantly that it was him that afternoon. I thought maybe he had returned but was unable to find me. There are after all several floors to the library. My eyes jumped up as if by reflex every time someone walked through the entrance.

I began to think that maybe my mystery lover in the stacks had been just a one-time thing. Or worse, a figment of my imagination. It was like a dream that had seemed all too real at the time, but, looking back on it, was actually quite impossible. As time went by, my hopes that he would return and ravish me again began to dwindle until I had nearly forgotten about the incident all together.

Until Tuesday.

"Sara, would you mind shelving the books for me today? I need to leave early for a doctor's appointment and Rachel asked if she could man the desk. Do you mind?" Brian asked.

"Sure, no problem" I said even though I did mind. Things were slow today. There weren't many patrons, it being a sunny Tuesday afternoon, so I was just reading a book at the front desk with the occasional interruption when someone wanted to check something out. Shelving required actual physical work. Not to mention I would be standing for the rest of the afternoon. But I couldn't refuse. Rachel had been doing most of the shelving for the past few days and I felt guilty.

I grabbed a cart full of non-fiction books. I figured the non-fiction floors would be quieter, less patrons asking me annoying questions and it would be easier for me to daydream. The bad wheel on the right side of the front of the cart kept pulling it to the right and I struggled to keep the cart moving straight as I headed to the elevator. A man was already waiting there and he looked over at me as I wheeled the cart in his direction. My first thought was that he was not bad looking for an older guy. Not that old, but old enough - I'd say late 30s, early 40s. He smiled and his green eyes seemed warm and welcoming. And he had that dark brown wavy hair and pale skin combination that I loved. After quickly making eye contact and smiling in that Hi-I'm-waiting-for-the-elevator-too kind of way, he nervously looked back up at the numbers above the elevator indicating which floor it was on. I could sense that he was anxious as the elevator numbers slowly counted down to our floor and I found it adorable that I could make a man who was probably old enough to be my father as nervous as a teenage boy in the presence of the homecoming queen. I smiled a bit to myself and I think he happened to glance over at me as I did this and caught me. As if it were contagious, a smiled curled up the edges of his mouth too.

The elevator door slid open and a little old woman with silver tufts of hair popping up all over her head and glasses that indicated she must be as blind as a bat without them waddled out. I looked over at the man who had been standing beside me to see if he would make the first move to get onto the elevator or if he would let me go first with the cart. As I had expected, he did the gentlemanly thing and, with a smile, ushered me on to the elevator. I smiled back and with some resistance from the book cart managed to squeeze into the tiny elevator. I pushed the cart all the way to the left leaving only a few feet for both the green-eyed man and myself to stand next to one another. I could have positioned the cart differently so that we wouldn't have to stand so close, but I decided against it. In that split second as I got onto the elevator I decided I wanted the possibility of accidentally touching him. I wanted to be able to smell his skin, the starch in his shirt, his aftershave. As he stepped onto the elevator after me I wondered if he realized what I had done.

I reached past him and pressed 6. He watched my finger press the button and then, with only a brief hesitation, pressed 7. The door closed and slowly began its ascent. We both stood there silently, looking up at the floor numbers flicker at each floor, not knowing where else to look. He moved, changing his weight from his left leg to his right. In the process, his upper arm brushed against mine. My body suddenly felt a rush of warmth as if I had just done a shot of whiskey. I suddenly became aware of my breasts as I inhaled deeply. Out of the corner of my eye I could tell that he noticed them too. I was wearing an angora v-neck sweater that dipped to just above the center part of my bra. From the right angle, my black lace bra and the inner curve of my breasts were clearly visible. I wondered how much he could see. I wondered if there was anything I could do to let him see more. My nipples, sensing all the attention my breasts were getting decided to get firm and steal the show.

I could tell he was getting fidgety and the silence was not making anything any more comfortable. Just when I thought the tension could not get any more unbearable, the elevator stopped at my floor. He smiled somewhat uncomfortably and stepped off the elevator so that I could wheel the cart out. As he got back in the elevator and turned around, the expression on his face was one of relief as though he had been holding his breath the entire time and was finally free to exhale. I was a little disappointed the elevator ride had ended so abruptly, but I had work to do.

I pushed the book cart to the last aisle and began shelving. The floor was empty, as I had expected. Even the adorable little study nook that was hidden on the floor all the way in the back here was empty. Usually, you have to get here early to claim this little piece of privacy with its large wooden desk and old-fashioned green leather chair.

Ten or fifteen minutes passed before I heard anyone else on the floor. The footsteps were heading straight towards the back where I was working and I turned around to see who would be keeping me company. As the person reached the last bookshelf and his face came into view I couldn't help but grin to myself. His eyes quickly turned towards me and we made eye contact for a few seconds. He didn't seem surprised to see me, and he gave me a friendly smile as he headed towards the study nook. I distractedly went back to shelving books, all the while stealing quick glimpses of him poring over some book and watching him out of the corner of my eye. I stole glances of his dark brown hair, his crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up revealing his well-toned forearms, his slate gray pants, and his black shoe-covered feet crossed and curled beneath the chair. After several minutes passed, I realized that he had yet to turn the page of the book he was reading. I wondered if he was even reading the book at all. I curiously looked over at him, ignoring subtlety and stealth. He noticed me staring at him and looked back at me. For a moment we both just stared at each other like we were competing is some sort of visual game of Chicken, trying desperately not to be the first to look away. I lost.

A few seconds later, he pushed his chair back away from the desk and stood up. He walked over towards me and stopped within a few feet of me. I was afraid to look at him and I tried to continue shelving as though he weren't there, unsuccessfully of course. I detected something vaguely familiar in his voice as he muttered "'Excuse me." He reached his arm out in front of me for a book that was just above my head and slowly pulled it off the shelf. He held the book in his hands, but instead of looking at it, his gaze focused on me. I couldn't resist it any longer and I looked over at him, into his olive green eyes.

He reached up with his right hand and placed it on my cheek, letting his thumb rub over my raspberry colored lips. He bent down and kissed me, pressing his firm lips against my waiting mouth. I felt his tongue gently dip into my mouth and flick against the tip of my tongue. I stopped resisting and put my right hand on the back of his head and pulled him closer to me. His tongue moved deeper into my mouth, thrashing with mine, and he let the book he was holding fall to the ground with a loud thud. We slowly turned so my back was up against the bookcase and he pressed his body up against me. We were kissing voraciously and, as if by instinct, I began to lift my right leg and wrap it around him. The folds of the cotton twill of his pants tickled the inside of my naked thigh sending jolts of electricity through my body.

His lips began traveling down my neck to my chest to the skin at the edge of the neckline of my sweater and finally, he pulled the sweater down to reveal my breasts that were eagerly waiting to feel his hot tongue on them. My hand - still on the back of his head - became nestled in his soft hair and I pressed him against me more firmly as he sucked one nipple and then the next.

My pussy was aching for him and I could feel my panties dampening beneath the rose-colored pencil skirt I was wearing. Being pressed against the bookcase was becoming increasing uncomfortable and I gently nudged him in the direction of the study nook. He understood and stopped what he was doing to follow me to where he had been sitting only moments ago pretending to read.

I sat down on the wooden desk, hiked up my skirt a bit and spread my legs apart. He moved in between them and began kissing me passionately again. I lifted my legs up and rested my high-heeled feet on the arms of the chair, enclosing him. His lips found their way back down to my chest, but this time, he decided that rather than negotiate with my sweater, he would just remove it entirely. He peeled the sweater off of me and tossed it in the corner revealing my breasts, which were only just barely being contained by my bra. He cupped each breast and squeezed them gently, rubbing his thumbs over the nipples through the lace of my bra. I grabbed one of his hands, which caught him by surprise and moved it down to the juices that had soaked through my panties. His fingertips began kneading my clit through the wet fabric and I couldn't help but moan. This seemed to cause something to explode within him and he instantly pulled open his belt and began to undo his fly. I quickly unbuttoned his shirt and reached my hands in to the well-defined chest lying beneath. My hands wandered over his chest until I knew he was completely unzipped. I then moved my hands down and around him to his back and slid his pants and boxers down over his ass.

He pulled my soaking wet panties off of me and dipped one and then two fingers deep inside me. My pussy was begging for his cock and my small, quick moans were his cue that I couldn't stand waiting any longer. He pulled his fingers out of me and slid his hard cock in deep. The wet, velvety walls of my pussy enveloped him as he began thrusting in and out of me, gradually increasing speed. My feet arched as he began slamming into me and my fingers were digging into his back, clenching him tighter each time he rammed into me. My bare ass against the desk felt so good and I couldn't believe this was happening... again!

Suddenly, he kicked the chair back behind him and pushed me down flat on the table, shoving the book he had been looking at onto the floor. He climbed on top of me, pulled my skirt up some more and continued fucking me on top of the desk. My thighs were trembling now as I wrapped my legs around him. He was kissing me ravenously, his chest pressed against my breasts, his hands holding my arms down over my head at the wrists, his throbbing cock furiously pounding at my dripping pussy. I could feel the wave of release begin to rise deep within me. He could hear in my breathing that I was close. He kept going, faster and harder. I couldn't contain it any longer. The orgasm washed over me, sending shivers throughout my body. A second later I could feel him coming too. He stayed inside me for a moment and gently kissed me before slowly pulling out.

He pulled up his pants and patted his pockets as though he'd lost something. Finally, he pulled out a small white cotton handkerchief from his left pocket and handed it to me, somewhat sheepishly, for me to clean up. I smiled at this and took the handkerchief from him. He finished zippering up his pants and buttoning his shirt as I recovered my panties and slid back into my sweater. We both straightened our hair and he leaned down to pick up the book that he had pushed onto the floor. He placed it back on the desk next to me and we looked at each other and smiled devilishly. I recognized something then as I stared into his eyes. Could this be the same man as the last time?

Suddenly, we heard footsteps echoing through the stacks heading in our direction. I quickly smoothed down my skirt making sure it was in place and darted for the book that was lying on the floor where the green-eyed man had dropped it. A little old woman rounded the corner and spotted me.

"Oh, miss! I'm glad you're here. I can't seem to find..." Her words just trailed off as I watched the green-eyed man behind her smile at me and walk off down the aisle towards the doorway and out to the elevator. The old woman hadn't even seen him and just continued yammering on.

"Excuse me! Are you even listening to me?" The little old woman was annoyed and scrunched up her bubblegum-pink-painted lips in frustration, waking me from my trance.

I sighed. "I'm sorry. What was it you were looking for?"