The Librarian and the Nose-Ring Girl

"Why sir, I truly don't know what you mean by that," she responded with a mock southern accent and a perfectly straight face. And then she snorted and broke out in a fit of giggles, trying to stifle her laughter with one hand. There were a couple other customers in the place, after all.

That's it, I thought, now I'm totally desperate to spend some time with this girl. If she turns me down, I'll just ride off into the sunset and shoot myself on the nearest mountain bike trail. The wolves will come and eat my flesh, that kind of thing.

"I think maybe you do know," I said, trying to keep things light, but with a hint of a mysterious undertone. "After you cleaned us out, there's hardly a book left on our shelves about anything spicy." There, I thought, watching closely. Let's see where she takes it from here.

I was rewarded with another blush. Sal looked down at the counter, maybe wondering what to say next. The moment seemed to go on longer than it should.

When she finally looked up to reply, her voice seemed a bit different, more direct, somehow.

"It's one way to learn," she said. "I have read some of that kind of stuff before. But for sure, spicy is the word. How about you?"

I looked right into her eyes. She didn't flinch. What to say next?

"I, um. I have, yes." Oh crap, brain freezing up. "Look, Sal, can I ask you about something else? Sorry, I don't have much practise doing this."

"That's okay, Terrence, I'm listening." She reached across the counter, putting her hand close to mine. My heart melted, almost literally.

"I'm trying to ask if you might want to have dinner with me sometime. Unless, you know, you already have a boyfriend or whatever. Or a girlfriend. Geez, I really am making a mess out of this, aren't I?"

Now her smile was warm and kind of amused. "I haven't had anyone ask me out in a while, it's so nice. Look, the truth is I do have a boyfriend, but not much of one, to be honest."

My heart sank, but she was still talking, so I couldn't just crawl out the door.

"This isn't the best place to do this, Terrence." She glanced at the door to see if any customers were about to come in.

"But here it is. I've been working up to dump him, and that's going to happen this weekend. It's a long story, he's really not a bad guy, but I'm wasting my time. We don't have anything in common. He's always just wanting to bring his buddies over to my place to play Warcraft or some other dumb multiple-player game." (Here there was an exaggerated rolling of blue eyes.) "So, I need to do that first, like tonight, I hope. And then I would love to have dinner with you... and talk about books, and... you know. Be real again."

With that, Sal finally seemed to run out of words. And I could breathe at last. "So... that's a yes, right? Just not today?"

"Yeah, absolutely. But I better get back to work before the boss lady sees us talking. Let me look after this customer coming in, then we can exchange numbers, OK?"

"Sure!" I stepped back over to my table, where my coffee was starting to cool off. Glancing at my watch, I could see that Mrs. Brooks would be opening the doors in about five minutes. If I wasn't on time, there would be hell to pay. Well, too bad, so sad, as my dear mother used to say.

It took a bit longer for Sal to deal with a complicated soy milk triple latte and croissant, but the wait was worth it. Phone numbers safely exchanged, I walked my bike back over to the library, earning a glare from Mrs. Brooks and a "what's up dude?" look from Claudia. When the coast was clear, I just grinned and gave Claudia the thumbs up.

Fortunately, work helped take my mind off Sal from that moment until Saturday evening. Arriving at home with some take-out Indian food, I felt the buzz of a text message in my shirt pocket.

"Done. Free woman. Dinner Sunday?"

There I was, officially back in the dating pool at last. Take that, Alice and Blondie!

The next night, I picked Sal up at six, feeling like a teenager. Damn, she looked good, wearing a black and white print dress, with sleeves that covered her arm tat. From her place, we walked a few blocks to one of the nicest Italian restaurants in town. For about half a second, I felt a bit like I was cheating on Alice as I strolled in with this hottie on my arm. But that didn't last.

Dinner passed in a flash; I barely noticed what we ate, even though the food and the expensive wine were superb. All my attention was on watching this shy young woman open up to me from across our age gap. (It turned out she was actually 25, a bit older than I had guessed.) She was curious to know how I ended up as a librarian after a couple of ill-fated forays into other occupations, and then she told me about the trials and tribulations of young people in today's job market. Her barista job at Human Bean was the latest in a series of crappy service industry McJobs, but she liked it better than fast food or waitressing. How could two days a week at the coffee shop bring enough income to survive, I asked. "Oh," she said, "I do some freelance web work too," and left that pretty vague. (Oh, be quiet. How was I supposed to know?)

Her real goal at this point, she explained, was to get into a top-flight two-year medical technology course at a community college upstate. No way would she sell overpriced coffee for a career; she wanted to operate expensive machines that look inside people. Seemed crazy difficult to me, but she almost made it sound exciting, 21st century technology, saving lives, all that neat stuff. She just needed to save enough money to go to school full-time, and that was a challenge, since her folks were too broke to help.

Both of us stayed off the topic of exes, until Sal remarked how great it was to have dinner with somebody who actually read books. Guilty as charged, I admitted.

And from there, it was only a matter of time before we were talking books. I forget how, exactly (we were into a second bottle of wine at that point), but soon she was asking if the library had any more kinky-type titles. Being a professional librarian (have I mentioned that already?), I explained there was a bigger selection at the main branch. Even better, I admitted to being the owner of a small personal collection of erotica, if she was ever interested. This revelation made Sal's eyes bug out a little, as she suddenly began processing this information.

"I see," she said, with a rather wicked grin. "And this is purely for academic purposes, I'm sure."

"Well, there is a lot to be learned about society from these books," I said. "But some of them are just for fun."

Now her eyebrows went up, and I could almost see the gears churning inside her brain. But clearly she wanted more time to figure me out, and changed the subject.

Dinner was over all too soon, finished off with goblets of the restaurant's famous home-made spumoni ice cream. By that point, I was a goner, but I kept telling myself to take it easy. This was my first post-break-up date (and hers too, I remembered!), and it would be stupid to surrender completely to our hormones. Of course that's exactly what I wanted: to kiss Sal passionately for a long, long time, and then slip that dress off her shoulders and down to the floor. I longed to take all the time I needed to finish undressing her, to explore all her curves, take her nipples into my mouth, taste her sweetness, and yes, to climax inside her. It's been so damn long, I thought...

But sanity did prevail, and we settled for a few lingering smooches outside her apartment building. Finally she pulled out of my embrace and said, "hey, Terrence, this was such a great evening. But I really should go in now."

Ever the gentleman, I agreed. "And I should leave too. But I have to know, can we see each other again? Um... really soon?"

"Of course we can," she laughed, jabbing her finger in my chest. "In fact, if you don't call me tomorrow, I might start stalking you at work."

I did exactly that, and we arranged to meet on Tuesday night for dinner and maybe a movie. By then, we were almost a couple already, holding hands and stopping every few minutes for a display of public affection - nothing too blatant, but her neck and her ears did seem to need quite a bit of nuzzling and nibbling.

This time, when the dessert dishes were cleared away and the bill was paid, going to a movie was the last thing on our minds. Side by side in the booth at the back of the diner, we started making out like... well, like two people starved for some really good sex. It wouldn't take us long to get thrown out.

But I was reluctant to push things too fast, still fearing that maybe I wasn't reading the signals. Sal finally saved us, coming up for air with the sixty-four dollar question: "So... your place or mine?"

I flipped a mental coin, and it came up heads. "I probably have the best book collection," I said. "Is my place OK for you?"

"Let's go, then," she laughed. "You said you live on Seventh?"

Ten minutes later, we were running up together to my front door, and then it was happening at last. Sal was almost ripping my shirt off and pulling down my pants, as I fumbled with the buttons of her blouse and then the zipper of her jeans. She stepped out of white satin panties, and I was finally seeing her tats for the first time.

The tiger lily was gorgeous, colours perfect, stretching from just above her left hip-bone down to mid thigh, perfect for caressing. Just above her right breast, a ruby-throated hummingbird hovered on her pale skin. And the top of one of her plump butt cheeks was adorned with a small pink rose, nothing special but I found it adorable.

All this and more was mine to see, as we rolled around naked on the sheets, kissing and sucking to our hearts content. Eventually I moved between Sal's legs, and down below a neatly shaved landing strip bush, to tongue her pussy lips and swollen clit. This was a new experience for me, after Alice's wild, unruly, totally amazing dark patch of pubic hair. Vive la difference, I thought, diving in to taste Sal's love juices, and reaching up to tweak her nipples at the same time. This seemed to be the right thing to do, judging from her increasingly loud moans, and then shrieks of pure joy as she orgasmed a few minutes later, squeezing her thighs around my head.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck yes," she panted. "Get in there and fuck me right now."

I didn't need any urging to slide my hard cock into that beautiful pussy. My rhythmic thrusting was quickly matched by her ass lifting off the bed to the same beat, pushing back against me as hard as she could. It was too good to last, and before long I was cumming hard and loud, filling her up with my own climax. Sal reached down to start rubbing her love button again between two fingers, bringing herself to a second orgasm while I kept pumping with my still-erect cock. Finally we were both spent, collapsing together in a messy, exhausted, sweaty heap in the middle of the bed. I couldn't remember the last time I felt that great, and I was reluctant to let go until she rolled over.

"Hey, hot stuff... that was pretty amazing! But I really need to pee and get cleaned up now. Unless..." There was that smile again, and she was batting her eyes at me.

"I think I need some time to recuperate," I admitted. "Bathroom's just down the hall."

A few minutes later, we were all tidied up, and she was scanning the top bookshelf in my bedroom, oooh and aaahing at titles, taking a couple out to flip through the pages while I lounged on the bed watching. At one point she found something very interesting, turning the book sideways for a better view, then glancing over at me like the cat about to chow down on the canary. It was quite a show.

Finally she reshelved that book, and we started doing that tentative new lovers dance, the one where you sound each other out about staying the night. Playfully, I told her I was tempted to lock the doors and tie her to the bed. It was a jest that brought an unexpected response.

"Bring it on, honey," she said with a growl in her voice, holding out her arms with wrists together. "I've been a bad girl here tonight."

"Are you serious?", I asked. Sal nodded slowly. "I am if you are," she replied.

Before you could say BDSM, a little box of kinky stuff emerged from under the bed. Not the toys Alice and I used to play with - most of that collection hit the trash around the same time as my wedding ring. Since then, hope springing eternal and all that, I had started over with some cuffs, a couple of nipple clamps, several colourful butt plugs, and a vibe. Oh, and half a dozen pieces of red velvet rope, each about a yard long.

Sal's eyes were wide and she started breathing faster as she examined these new treasures, and her left hand dipped down to touch herself. Her perky little nipples were suddenly erect again, a sight that stimulated my cock rather nicely.

"Do it, Terrence." It sounded more like an order than a suggestion, and I was more than ready to make her wish come true. Nothing too elaborate - she was a beginner to all this, and truth be told, I wasn't all that experienced myself.

But that didn't stop us from having a ball, starting with a quick discussion of safe words. Sal's wrists were soon loosely tied to the bedposts, and she obediently spread her legs wide at my request. Taking advantage of her openness, I ran a finger between her cheeks, and then began stroking her pussy lips. By now she was moaning and moving her hips, not sure exactly what to expect next. A splash of lube or two later, and she was squealing with a combination of embarrassment and delight as I slowly eased the smallest plug into her anus.

"Are you going to spank me now?" she asked in a quavering voice, wiggling her bum.

"I sure am, baby." And with that, I gave her butt a bit of a slap, eliciting a surprised yelp. A few more slaps followed, each a little harder, and her buttocks were soon turning a satisfying shade of pink. Even better, I could see the moisture glistening in Sal's exposed slit, and hear deep-throated moans of enjoyment. By now, my cock was rock hard again, ready for a second round.

"That should teach you to act naughty around librarians," I said in my sternest voice. That brought a giggle in response, and a "yes, Terrence, I won't talk out loud in your library again, sir."

"That's good to know. But I do think you need a little more punishment, don't you?"

Sal didn't know what to say to that, or what to expect. "Move up onto your knees," I directed her. "That's it, bum in the air." I gently extracted the plug from her ass and tossed it to the floor, then fingered her bottom for the first time, not too deep, just enough to let her feel the sensation for a few moments.

With that accomplished, I moved up behind Sal and rubbed my erection along her swollen pussy lips. She was so wet and slick that I immediately began sliding into her, and then I was fucking her hard and fast, and she was crying out and bucking her hips along with my pounding, arms still tied to the bedposts. With a loud groan, I climaxed again, filling Sal's pussy with my cum for the second time that night, and she cried out with her own orgasm, despite not being able to touch her clit.

I untied her arms, and she flipped over and pulled me close.

"Holy shit, Terrence, you made me orgasm without touching myself. That's never happened."

"So I take it you liked that?"

"Oh my god yes. I think you just found yourself a new sub, honey. Kiss me quick while I can still feel my butt tingling."

OK, you get the picture by now. No, it hadn't been strictly necessary to tie Sal up to keep her there. She didn't even want to leave, and we curled up together happily until sleep finally took hold. For a few hours, at least!

*************

When life does a one-eighty like that, everything changes. The old sorry-ass Terrence was kicked out the door, replaced by the new me, leaping out of bed in the morning, cooking special dinners for my new lover, letting her pick out places to go hiking or ride our bikes. She slept over two or three nights a week, and I began to drop romantic hints about saving money by moving in together. But for some reason, that conversation usually drifted in a different direction, and we didn't spend much time at her place. I was madly in love, or lust, or both, and it seemed she felt the same way about me. Yet something appeared to be holding her back. And as much as we shared the stories of our lives, I still didn't really know how she managed to get by on her shifts at the Human Bean - now three days a week, but still, that didn't add up.

About two months later, we were having a rare dinner at her apartment, followed by a leisurely evening of TV and then spanking her pretty little bum for a while. I'll spare you the details, but we were getting pretty good at this game.

Along about ten, she stood up and stretched, looking over at the clock. I got the hint, but I did wonder why I couldn't just stay over. So I asked. Might as well figure this out now, I decided.

Sal looked at me for a few moments, then down at the floor. As the silence stretched into uncomfortable territory, I began to worry. What in the name of the Dewey decimal system was going on?

Finally she looked back into my eyes.

"Terrence, we're starting to get kind of serious, right?"

After waiting for her to continue, I finally said, "Yeah, we are, honey. I'm crazy about you. I love you, you know that."

"And I've been wanting to say the same. I love you too. Really. You're the guy, and I never thought I'd be saying that to anyone." She gave me a smile, then took a deep breath.

"It's just that you should know something else about me."

I cringed, fearing the worst. Another secret lover? A fatal disease? Leaving town to explore the Amazon? Going lesbian? God no, anything but that...

"You've asked me a couple times about my part-time work," she continued. "Here's the thing. I know you're not the judgy moralistic kind of guy, but you might think it's weird. I'm a web cam girl three nights a week, usually about two or three hours. It's a Chaturbate show, you know what that is? The performers, that's me, we get paid tokens by the guys who watch, and it's decent money. More than I'd get paid waitressing or whatever. "

She stopped to see if I was still conscious. Mostly I was just trying to wrap my head around what she was saying. I'd read a little about this Chaturbate thing, but since I'd never seen it, it was hard to imagine exactly how it worked. Other than, of course, it probably involved Sal getting bare-ass naked on camera while guys jerked off. So that was, yes, a little weird. Maybe a lot weird, I wasn't completely sure yet.

"It averages about thirty or forty bucks an hour. I get to control some things, so for example only viewers from states east of the Mississippi, or other countries. But not here in the west, so nobody who knows me will see. And I can block anyone who gets obnoxious or creepy.

"I know this is a lot to take in, so I'll explain a bit more. Usually I start my show wearing a t-shirt and undies, just lounging on my bed. The guys watching - it's mostly guys anyway, sometimes a girl or two - they pay by tokens and make requests, like lift up your shirt and play with your nipples, or pull your panties down to show me your butt. More tokens, more action. We get paid half the value of the tokens we earn.

"I started doing this a few months ago, cause I needed a better way to earn same money to get into college. It's just online, I thought, and only for maybe a year or so. And I actually kind of like doing it, most nights, anyway. There's a lot of positive feedback, if you know what I mean, and you know I love to play with myself."

Head down now, she peeked back up at me with a little smile, looking for some kind of reaction.