Sunday Quickie: What Happens in the Library

 

In my last semester of college, I was an emotional wreck. My boyfriend since freshman year dumped me for a cougar. The trip to Paris I’d been planning for a year had fallen through. And I’d been rejected from all ten PhD programs I’d applied to. Life sucked, and I wasn’t sure why I even bothered anymore. Time got filled with Irish mint ice cream, intense boot camp style workouts, and late night studying at the college library.

Constant 24/7 menstrual cycle described my mood pretty well. I was a psycho bitch, with a big “fuck off asshole” sign on my forehead. I alienated my friends. My grades were slipping like sand through my fingers. And I hadn’t gotten laid in more than a year. Crabby was just the beginning.

All that changed one late Thursday night, on the third floor of the library. Near finals week, they kept the library open past midnight for the book freaks like me to write our term papers. I was writing three at the same time, and they were all due next Monday. Earlier, I had worked out and hadn’t bothered showering after, and smelled like I’d been trapped in a sauna with ten fat men and a stick of cool gel deodorant.

I still wore my workout clothes. A pink sports bra and green shorts, and a soft black, cotton jacket.

I had intentionally sat near the printer, so I could print off some research data on hard copy and look at it while I typed my papers. The printer roared to life right before I hit the “send” button. Great, so I’d wait in line.

Next I know, a really cute guy with long brown hair and glasses shows up to check the printer. He wore corduroy pants and a red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He’s collecting the paper being spit out, shuffling it into neat piles, tapping his fingers on the machine while he waits. And I’m checking him out, despite my bad attitude.

As if a fog had lifted, and revealed what I’d been missing the whole time. I’d forgotten what it was like to check out guys. And he was checking me out, with quick sidelong glances.

Despite my worst intentions, the “fuck off asshole” sign fell down, and I dropped my guard. I smiled at the guy. Miracle of miracles, he smiled back and introduced himself as Gary. Small pleasantries ensued. Then I shove my foot in mouth.

“You gonna be much longer, Gary?” I said, right as the paper jammed in the printer. Go figure.

“Shucks,” he said. “Only one more page to go.” He tried to open the tray, but only made a lot of noise and fuss.

“You can’t just whip it out,” I said, standing up. I pushed my body into his. Gary didn’t budge, I rubbed one of my boobs against his arm. I hoped he took the hint. If only I smelled better.

He stepped out of the way, goofy grin on his face and a teepee in his pants. I undid the paper jam and sat back down, staring at him. The printer kept spitting out page after page.

“Thought you said only one more.”

“More like one hundred. Sorry.”

“What I am supposed to do while I wait for the longest book report to print?”

“See the empty private study room? With the ‘do not disturb’ sign.” Gary pointed to one of the private rooms twenty paces away. “It’s empty.”

“Let’s go study!” I said, trying and failing to hide the excitement in my voice. I can hardly believe what was happened when I led him by the hand.

I slammed the door shut and pushed him against the wall, surprising him and taking his breath away. I ripped my jacket off, and he pulled my ponytail. After a minute of making out, I undid his belt and pants and was on my knees. Gary was well blessed, an inch bigger than my ex, with a nice thick arch. I swallowed him entirely, hungry for what I denied myself for too long.

Right at the edge, I looked up at him, feigning innocence with quick eye blinks. Gary pulled me from my knees by the hair, shoving me roughly on the table. He pulled my shorts and panties to my ankles, and held my legs high over my head. Helpless, I waited for him to enter.

He did, one inch at a time.

All the way in, he pumped my pussy for all I was worth, until I was creamy and gushing all over his cock. He came inside me soon after, his hot seed filling me.

We had sex near constantly the whole weekend. I don’t know how I did it, but I got A’s on all my papers. After college, instead of going to grad school like I planned, I took an internship in the same city Gary lived.

A summer of fucking him was worth being turned away from my dreams.

***

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Author: D. Anthony Brown

Writer of speculative fiction.

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