My Friends the Allens -- Library of Congress
by Mark Aster

= = =
Note: this story takes place in a fantasy world where
vaccines against AIDS and pregnancy are safe and common,
and casual sex with strangers is not suicidally stupid.
The real world, sadly, is not like this: so don't try
this at home, folks.
= = =

"Isn't she pretty?" Julie whispered in my ear, "I wonder what
she's reading."  Her lips warm and intimate by my earlobe.
"Do you think she'd like you to make love to her?"

We were in one of the more obscure sub-basements of the main
library at the U, in the Medical Law archives.  Julie was doing
research for a paper, and I was keeping her company, dozing,
and covertly admiring the young woman seated at a desk on the
other side of the alcove.  The archetypal pretty repressed
young librarian, hair pulled tightly up behind her head, in
a trim and paradoxically sexy grey suit and white shirt,
wire-frame glasses.  I'd been fantasizing about quiet
bookish sex between her and the college kid who wheeled
by occasionally with the shelving cart.

I grinned and turned my head quickly, to catch Julie's lips
with mine.  She let me kiss her; her mouth, as ever, small and
soft and sweet.  Then she looked over at my librarian.

Feeling her gaze, the librarian looked up from her book.
Polite and professional at first, a "what can I do for you,
Miss?" look, her eyes gradually brightened and softened as
they looked at each other.  By the time Julie turned back to
me, the librarian's face was surprised, joyful, her skin
flushed.  "Go over and touch her," said Julie very quietly,
"she'd like that."

I raised my eyebrows.  Although the young woman had gone back
to her book, I saw that one graceful hand now rested on top of
the desk, toward us.  As I watched, her forefinger extended,
and then crooked, in one slow, obvious beckoning motion.  For
an instant her grey eyes looked up from the book and sparkled
at me.  I rose and walked to her.

I stood behind her, looking down at the top of her head, the
shoulders of her jacket, her lap disappearing under the desk.
She didn't look up.  Her hand moved off of the desk to turn a
page of her book.  I reached down and put one hand on her
shoulder.  She sighed the quietest of sighs, and her body
shifted minutely in the chair.  I smelled a hint of floral
perfume.

In the alcove, the kid with the cart stood across the table
from Julie, transfixed by her eyes.  He was a tall brown-haired
boy, probably nineteen, like Julie.  As I watched, Julie's face
lit up, and the boy leaned foward, lowering himself across the
table like a dancer, his legs long behind him, his face close
to hers.  Slowly, they kissed.

I moved my hand along the librarian's shoulder, up the side of
her head.  Her ear was small and pink, long-lobed, with a round
silver earring.  Her hair was soft and clean.  I undid the
clip holding it back, and it tumbled down around her face,
over her shoulders.  My skin tingled under my clothes.

Julie took the boy's head in her hands and opened her mouth,
kissing him deeply and passionately.  His hands moved down
over her body.  The librarian turned another page.  I ran
my fingers over her hair, down her forehead, over her eyelids.
She raised one hand to mine, and drew my fingers to her lips.
One at a time, she took my fingers into her mouth, sucking
each one gently into her.  Her tongue was soft and warm
against my skin, sliding along my fingernails.  A low groan
welled in my throat.

Julie was standing now, the boy still on the table, his head
at the level of her chest.  She grinned down at him as he undid
the buttons of her shirt and nuzzled her small perfect breasts.
He licked her nipples, and they came erect.  He slid his hands
under her shirt, behind her, and drew her body closer to him.
His tongue was long and wet, playing over her skin.  She closed
her eyes and caressed his shoulders with her hands.

My librarian closed her book and turned her head, my finger
coming out of her mouth, wetting her cheek with her own saliva.
She turned and stood up, her body almost touching mine, and put
her arms slowly around my neck.  Behind her, the boy finished
unwrapping Julie, and took her in his strong young arms.  Warm
grey eyes looked into mine, deep and elegant behind the glasses,
the woman's face happy but serious, her breasts and her left
knee just brushing against me through our clothes.  We moved
our heads together, our noses touching gently, the clean flowery
smell of her in my nostrils.  We kissed lightly, softly, mouths
closed and eyes open.  I touched the back of her jacket, drew
her forward an inch, and her body was against me, and our mouths
pressed together completely, lips on lips, my heart almost
painful in my chest.  She closed her eyes, and her tongue came
softly into my mouth.

An eternity later, she drew her face away from mine, smiling.
Over her shoulder, I saw Julie, naked, on her back on the
table among piles of books, her legs spread, her body open
to the youth, grinning at him as he fumbled with his pants,
idly moving her hands over herself and waiting for him.

My arms were empty.  My librarian, hair disheveled floating
around her like a halo, had picked up her book and was walking
to the stacks.  She reached up, her body lovely, and slid the
book onto its shelf.  As the boy moved onto Julie, his penis
swelling proudly out from his body, the librarian turned, her
back against the shelves, and looked me in the eyes.  Slowly,
she reached up and undid the top button of her blouse.

Julie and the boy made hot passionate love on the table, among
the books, his muscular young ass clenching and relaxing as
he pumped himself into her vagina, and she moaned and screamed
and kissed him hungrily on the mouth.  But I hardly noticed
them, my eyes captivated by my bespectacled beauty as she
slowly stripped, framed against the rows and rows of laden
shelves.  She undid the buttons of her blouse, and it fell
open, baring her pink stomach and the innocent womanly white
of her bra.  She put her arms behind her and the jacket slid
down and pooled on the floor, followed a moment later by the
blouse.  Her hands went to her hip, and she unzipped her skirt;
with the movement of her arms, her breasts rubbed together
deliciously in their cups.  Julie came.  The librarian smiled.

She stepped out of her grey skirt and out of her shoes.  She
undid her bra and let it fall to the floor, her upper body bare
and simple in the light.  She bent one leg, running her hand
down over her hip and along her thigh to her knee.  Her eyes
were on me.  She hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her
panties and slipped them off, down her long legs in grey
sheer knee-highs.  Then she stood, her arms behind her,
looking at me, wearing only her glasses, earrings, and
stockings.  She smiled.  Her breasts, round and upturned, with
wide pink aureolas, moved gently up and down as she breathed.
I swallowed.  The boy, groaning and gasping, his long cock deep
inside Julie, finally came, and they moaned together on the
table, her small hands scratching down his back.  My
librarian held out her arms to me.

I don't remember taking off my clothes or crossing the floor.
I remember her skin against my skin, her eyes hot and eager
on mine, the silken skin of her back and her ass against my
hands.  My penis, stiff and erect, trapped between us as we
kissed, leaving a sticky trail on her stomach.  My tongue in
her mouth, she closed her eyes, and her body shuddered, her
knees buckling.  I helped her to the floor, and my mouth and
hands stroked her body.  She groaned, restraint abandoned, and
writhed under me, her hands gripping my shoulders.  I squeezed
her breasts and licked her nipples; her aureolas were taut
and smooth.  My heart pounded, and I would have tantalized
myself longer with the yielding surfaces of her body, but
she pulled me over on top of her, pressed her hips against me,
and slid her labia around the head of my cock.  I let out a
long helpless sigh of pleasure as she engulfed me.

Her eyes were closed and her head thrown back, the long pale
curve of her throat bared to me.  I kissed her neck and her
jaw as she moved beneath me, my cock swelling and throbbing
within her.  Her hands moved to my hips and my buttocks,
caressing and pulling me violently deeper into her.  I thrust
gradually harder and faster, and her mouth opened and she
moaned, and her glasses slipped off of her eyes and up her
forehead.  The smooth slick walls of her cunt squeezed my
hot rigid staff, her legs wrapped around me, her body beginning
to convulse.  I slowed down, holding her on the edge of orgasm,
tweaking her nipples with my fingers, and then slamming into
her, pushing her hard over the edge, and her fingernails dug
into my flesh, and I kissed her mouth and sucked on her tongue,
and we both came, came long and blissfully, intertwined,
helpless, gasping, transported, hot semen spurting into her and
her juices soaking our skin.  She wrapped her arms around my
head and held me to her, warm and quiet and still, the odors
of love mixing with the smell of old books.

Julie and I came out of the elevator in the lobby and walked
toward the doors, though the big crowded marble room.  "How
do you DO that?" I asked her casually.  She stopped and swung
around in front of me, arms loosely around my neck.

"I don't DO anything.  It was what they wanted."  Then she drew
my head down to hers, and whispered almost inaudibly, "Sometimes
there are just a few chains I can loosen," and she kissed my
mouth, and her eyes were deep and trackless, her lips sweet and
soft and maddening, and I fell into her and loved her and died.

Then she let go of me and stepped back, her grin impish, and we
went out to Sandwich King for dinner.


My Friends the Allens -- Library of Congress
by Mark Aster
The End