Books Made Great Foreplay — Cecile Lovell

The library was quiet. The only sounds were the air conditioning system and some random person painstakingly typing something on one of the public computers.

The library was huge, old, and dark, with an almost creepy haunted vibe. I had always had a hate love relationship with it. The smell of books ripe and heavy in the air, masking a moldy undertone I had grown up with. Every Saturday I was at the library, and it spoke volumes about society that it was always this empty.

He was the only person there as regularly as I was. I had to admit, aside from the books and the fact that Saturday’s were dull as tombs at home; he was the best reason to even be at this library instead of the fancier one Uptown.

I don’t know why he’d rather be around the out of date, out of print books rather than Uptown with new releases and books on MP3s but I was glad. Maybe, like myself, turning brittle pages, yellowed with age turned him on just a little bit.

I knew where I’d find him, in the very back, the darkest part of the library reading classic literature. We barely talked but when we did, it was always about what we were reading. His section was right next to mine, hidden away from where normal people usually go.  While he read Chaucer, my nose was deep involved in erotica.  I was attempting to make it through the five sparse shelves before the summer was over.

I guess I could have actually checked the books out, but half the fun was getting away from my parents for a few hours and seeing him.  I nodded to the librarian, a woman I had known since I was five, as I made my way to the back. When I reached the furthest wall, I was hidden from everyone. No one could see me and I couldn’t see anyone.

There was an old beat up couch, worn and seriously, ugly looking, but it was my perch, at least for the next few hours. He wasn’t there yet, which pleased me. I enjoyed not lighting up like a Christmas tree when he arrived. It was better to already be engrossed in a story beforehand.

Scanning the shelves I found the book I hadn’t finished the week before, I snatched it up and sat down, tucking my legs under my long black skirt.  I was reading the Story of O, which had some very hot slave and master play in it. I liked to write erotica, but this was seriously awesome stuff.

I was just feeling my cheeks flush from the warmth of the library and the heat of the author’s words when I realized I was no longer alone.  Glancing up from my book, I saw him standing there. My heart leapt in my throat and other body parts clenched and warmed. He was brilliant. Moreover, if my friends knew, I was crushing on him so hard-core they would never let me hear the end of it.

“Hey Renata.” He smiled at me and I bit my lip, noticing his eyes didn’t leave my mouth as I did so.

“Hey.” My voice was a whisper in the quiet.

“I figured you’d have taken that one home you were so engrossed in it last week.”

“Oh, no… My brothers would tease me if they found it.” It was a lame excuse. I was eighteen for Goddess sake! Who gave a shit about my annoying brothers?

“Ah.” His smirk made my breathing hitch in the back of my throat.   He sat next to me, lean legs crossed, fingers playing with the book he chose.

“What are you reading?”  I asked.

“Something new.”  I was surprised he hadn’t picked a dusty untouched book from his normal section. If it was something new, why the hell was he here?

As if he read my mind, his hand slid to my leg and he began to draw lazy circles on my thigh with his fingers.

“I came to see you, why are you surprised?”

“Umm, because you’ve never shown any interest in me.” Again super lame.  He chuckled and it was a dark, almost forbidden sound. Taking my book from me, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me onto his lap.

“Well hopefully I am making my intentions clear now.”  I looked into his eyes and, not knowing what possessed me, I kissed him. He moaned into my mouth, pressing his lips firmly against my own.  His hands reached down and grabbed my ass so that my body was tight against his and I could feel how excited he was to have me on top of him.

I buried my hands in his hair as his tongue slipped from his mouth to mine, fucking me.  I’d never been kissed like this before, all hot, wet and passionate.

He rocked his hips as I straddled him, his erection pressing against my heated core through his jeans. I moved with him, feelings that were erotic and exotic roared through me. I didn’t know it could feel like this. One of his hands left my ass and slid down between us, under my skirt and beneath my panties. As he pushed a finger into me, I almost came. He found just the right rhythm and began to work me with his hand. I whimpered into his mouth, he was sucking my kiss like it was other parts of my body.

I bit down on his lower lip as an orgasm rushed through me, making me even wetter, convulsing in his arms. His mouth moved to my cheek, trailing moist and scorching to my ear.

“I love making you cum.” He murmured, causing me to shudder again.

I grinned at him, knowing it was slightly sadistic and I slid off his lap. His eyes widened as I released him from his pants, his cock was hard, long, wide, and perfect. I licked my lips and watched as his eyes dilated once he realized what I was going to do.

I took his erection into my mouth, tongue stroking him from base to tip; I could feel him swell in my mouth. I worked him with my hand, my saliva running down his length giving me the moisture I needed to pump his cock in tune to my sucking him. I forced him all the way to the back of my throat, letting my muscles convulse around his shaft, milking him. He began to thrust into my mouth, making wonderful little sounds.

“Fuck Renata, fuck.” His works just made me lave his phallus faster and harder. I used my teeth on him lightly, loving the way his flesh felt between my teeth. Just as I realized he was going to cum, I pulled away.

“What are you doing?” His voice was thick and harsh.

“Doing what you said, fucking you.” I slowly took my panties off; loving that his eyes never left my movements, as if I was more interesting than the book sitting next to him, than anything else ever again. The scent of sex and paper filled the air as I straddled him, opening myself wide so that I could envelope him with my juicy cunt. <!–[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]–>  <!–[endif]–>

He pushed into me, stretching me, and filling me up. The tip of him hitting my cervix in a delicious rush of pain with gratification. I began to ride him, hands gripping his shoulders as his hips moved up and down, and giving me the friction, I needed.  I was hungry for him, pleasure raping my senses

Sensation was building up inside of me, an insatiable pressure that I could not control as I clenched around his pulsating sex.

“I’m going to cum Renata, take me, take all of me.” As I heard his words my climax bubbled over me, I arched my back, his hands reaching up to squeeze my breasts.  I could hear his breathing, fast and labored. Then he spasmed, pounding me so hard it hurt, forcing me to cum again, I leaned forward, clutching him to me, as wave after wave of satisfaction rolled through me.

His orgasm was powerful as well, nearly bucking me off him. I closed my eyes, head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat at he released inside me, hands frantically gripping my shirt. When he was finished, he said my name one last time and then kissed my forehead, tenderly.

He tilted my chin up, eyes dancing in happiness.

“I have been wanting that for weeks baby.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, staying very still, basking in after glow.

“You read erotica, it’s a little intimidating.”

Now it was my turn to laugh, he’d just screwed me on a couch in a public library, I said as much and he looked a little shocked.

“You’re right I did.”

I squirmed around a little trying to adjust myself and watched his eyes darken with lust. I could feel him growing hard inside me, my pussy responded just as it should, aching already to be with him again.

“I want to be with you, and not just for sex.” He said as he assaulted my mouth with his.

Then he proceeded to show me just how much.

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Read Cecile’s other stories published on Every Night Erotica, here.

Cecile Lovell is a single mom from Utah with a passion for writing, sex, mythology and cats.