She liked to walk the stacks at the library after work some days. Not necessarily to take out any books or films, but to just walk up and down the rows, trailing her fingers across the spines of her pagéd friends, taking in the scent of the books and the people who have touched them before her. Well, maybe she couldn’t quite smell that, but she felt it. Felt their spectral digits curling around her own, tracing the contours of her arms and shoulders, reaching for her throat, her lips…. She lost herself in so many moments like this.
She loved to read but more than anything, she just loved being surrounded by books and their unique energies. She would pull them out at random, and drop where ever she was standing, and start reading… just to be immersed in the written word and the musings and creations of another person, to be in the moment and to let her imagination meld with that of the author, to paint the internal walls of her private world in more colours than her palette could ever hold on its own.
When her fingers found a book they liked, they pulled it off of the shelf, excitingly oblivious to which section she was perusing. As she read the words off of whatever page she flipped to, her eyes widened and her pupils devoured her irises in a fit of famished lust. It was as if her eyes could not take in enough of the erotic images the pages of the book was conjuring for her. She clutched her chest and finally exhaled as she approached the end of the paragraph. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the shelf behind her. Well-written depictions of cunnilingus often made her lose her cool a bit, but she kept the earthquake originating in her loins under control.
“Mmmmm…” She moaned to herself as one of her hands clawed up her exposed thigh towards the darkness beneath her skirt. She continued to absorb the words and pleasure-infused visions with one hand holding the book, and the other dipping in and out of her hidden ink well.
As she made her way through this languid moisture-inducing description of oral pleasure, her hands began to move with more fever and fervour as she approached the crest of her own rapture. The fact that she was in a very public space completely escaped her.
She squeezed her eyes closed as the sensations began to change. All of a sudden… she wasn’t alone there in the stacks, being rocked and rollicked by wave after wave of carnal abandonment.
Now she felt him there, on his knees, his face embedded in her sex, flicking his urgent tongue against the pulsating dewey decimal at her inviting entrance.
He lapped, and sucked and licked her lips, writing sopping wet verses into her labia with the tip of his tongue, tasting her as she squeezed out drop after drop of liquid poetry right into his waiting, wanting mouth.
He drove his tongue into her unfathomable depths, and with his mouth, coaxed from her a barely controlled colloquy of untranslatable verses and transcendent cum-soaked delirium.
She collapsed to the ground in a spent heap of sighs. She felt his soft lips graze her thigh as she came to, but when she sat up and opened her eyes, she discovered that she was alone once again; there was no other person in her vicinity. She had imagined him there, between her now-weak thighs — a pussy-licking phantom plucked straight from the pages of a book of which she did not even know the title.
But that didn’t even matter. There were other books out there that she hoped to experience in just the same way, and her library was the best and the biggest in the city.
To be continued…?
Goodness me! That was fun!