The glow of her youth radiated from her face and her body displayed the curves that lust was made of. She wore short pink dress gathered at the waist.
As she searched for a book, she took little fidgety steps causing her dress to swing fluidly. I found myself looking less for the book and more at her shapely legs that were enticingly bare.
She bent over to grab a footstool sitting in the aisle. For a brief second, I swore she wasn't wearing panties. Surely, wishful thinking.
After placing the stool in front of the book stack, she stepped onto it with her pink, three-inch high heels.
"Be careful," I said. "Those high heals look great but they don't look very steady."
"That's sweet of you to worry, but I'll be cautious." Her voice had a gentle ring to it. Almost little girlish.
The Goddess Art of
Jonathon Earl Bowser
As she reached up to the highest shelf, her dress pulled up exposing that she was indeed pantyless. And her fair haired pussy revealed that she was a natural blonde.
My pulse quickened as I watched her exhibition and worried about being caught looking up her dress. She stood on one leg to stretch to the top of the shelf. Her pussy was very round, the kind that bulges out from the groin. Its sensual pink color was beautifully framed by her milky white skin and flaxen pubic hair.
She leaned awkwardly and I knew she was going to lose her balance. I quickly stood up, grabbing her just as she began to fall. Being off balance myself, I stumbled backward and I hit the floor with her on top of me.
"Are you okay?" she asked with concern.
"My dignity is bruised but I'm fine. How about you?" I said looking into her lustrous blue eyes.
"No injuries thanks to your valiant chivalry."
Her lips curled into a smile and, suddenly, we both burst into laughter over our absurd sprawling position on the floor. She had a wondrous, warm laugh.
Our sounds drew the attention of the librarian who rushed into our isle. She gasped at the sight of the two of us in what looked like some position from the Kama Sutra. With indignation, she cried, "What are you two doing?"
The librarian clearly came to the conclusion we were fornicating right there amongst the book stacks. We both tried to explain, but we were laughing so hard, we didn't exhibit much
credibility. We were unceremoniously told to leave.
Once outside, I teased, "Okay, Miss high-heeled hellion, I'm going to have to report you to the embarrassment police. What's your name?"
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"Jack Coring. And, before meeting you, Christine, that name had a good reputation in this library."
"Jack, can I offer my rescuer dinner? I live just a few blocks away."
I agreed so quickly, I must have sounded desperate. In our brief walk to her apartment, we covered that she was in her final year at the university as a psychology major. I told her a little about being a photographer--my work for the local paper over the last eight years and freelancing for fashion shoots.
I figured she must be a dozen years my junior, but she seemed more mature and sure of herself than a college gal. She had me sit on the couch. She leaned over and gently kissed me with her soft, moist lips.
"May I see your library hard...I mean card." She plopped down next to me and ran her hand over my crotch and unzipped my pants. She reached in and pulled out my stiff member. "It looks like you have some overdue fines I'm going to have to collect on." She took my cock in her mouth several times then circled her tongue around the head. Then she said, "Yes, let me show you to the mammary section."
She stood up and slowly undid each button of her blouse, exposing a little more of her bosom with each one. Her pert young breasts bulged out of her bra. She reached behind and undid her bra and released her boobs, which danced about once removed from their restraint. Her skirt hiked up as she straddled me. She buried my face in her gorgeous valley of the boobs.
I turned her onto the couch and opened her legs. She moaned wildly as I licked lustfully between her thighs. "Miss, could we have some quiet please?! I'm trying to study down here." She continued to squirm and moan.
She rolled me onto my back on the couch. She again straddled me and pulled up her skirt, her pink protruding pussy, wet and ready. "Let me place your bookmark, sir." She seized my throbbing muscle then wiggled and jiggled it into her waiting hole. Within minutes we were both moaning and groaning passionately.
We fell off the couch with a thump. We giggled and she said, "I'm practicing my falls."
She leaned back on the coach and spread her legs widely. Her position exposed and cracked open her bulging mound, stretching out from under its blonde covering. "Sir, would you please check in your overdue material," she said mimicking the stuffiness of the librarian as she stroked her waiting pussy.
Christine's love juices seeped from her vagina and trickled down her thigh. I slowly and gently stuck my penis deep into her as I delicately caressed her lovely face.
She gasped. "Oooh, Jack!"
For a long time, I carefully manipulated my penis in and around her hole as I caressed her body, enjoying every turn and crevice.
As I increased the speed of my drilling motion, I reached down and began stroking her clitoris.
Faster and wilder I thumped her. Enticed by her jiggling chest, I tenderly seized one breast and massaged it as I moved up to her erect nipple. I tweaked her nipple and pulled gently on it until it stretched. Her breathing became excited and irregular. She leaned up and licked the nipple I held, darting her moist tongue between my fingers. I bent over and joined her, our tongues meeting often.
Suddenly, she fell back and moaned savagely, "Oooh! Uuuh! Oooh!" Her body arched and jerked sensuously several times.
Following her lead, I spurted a full load that kept cumming and cumming. I didn't think I'd ever stop--fifteen or twenty times my fountain erupted.
Christine and I went together for about a year. It was the best sex ever. Several years later, I went back into the library. The same old librarian was there and it brought back the memories. I couldn't stop thinking about Christine for weeks and how glad I was she'd lost her balance in those 3-inch heels.
The Goddess Art of
Jonathon Earl Bowser