In the Stacks - Sex Stories

In the Stacks

... clitoris, sometimes pausing to reach inside herself with her fingers and pull out more juices, smearing them over her pussy. She thought of the pervert's cock, how hard he'd been beating it. She imagined what it might feel like, hot on her pussy, in her pussy. She needed the vibrator. She got it from the box under her bed. She wouldn't turn it on, just use it as a dildo so that her mother wouldn't hear if she happened to walk past. She ran the toy over her pussy, lubricating it in her juices, and then slid it in, feeling the plastic filling her up. Did real cock feel like this? she wondered as she motioned the vibrator inside her with one hand, while the other worked at her clit. In a couple of minutes she was cumming. Her whole body shuddered, and she had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from swearing loudly. Her hand was wet with her pussy juice, though and she ended up smearing it around her lips. She'd never done that before, and even though it was kind of gross, it was kind of hot, too. She inhaled the scent of herself, and lay back on her bed, feeling as relaxed as she'd ever felt. ----- In the next three days, Anne got herself off five times thinking about her close encounter with the pervert. She'd been back to the library again, but she hadn't seen him since. That was probably for the best, she thought. She had the memory. The real thing was just asking for trouble. Besides, what reason was there to expect him to return to the scene of the crime? It was just ...

... one of those weird, once in a life time happenings. By the 4th day, Anne had just about convinced herself she'd never see the guy again. She was still slogging through Vanity Fair, not one of her favourites, when she glanced up and saw him. He was at another one of the desk-kiosk things across from her. She thought he should look more suspicious, but sitting there, he just seemed like a normal older guy studying for midterms like everyone else - not some book defiling pervert. Anne kept casting glances in his direction over the top of her book. Luckily his back was turned to her, or she would surely have been noticed. After half an hour or so the guy got up and walked into the stacks. Trying to contain her excitement, Anne tailed him as inconspicuously as possible. She was sure he'd turn around and catch her following him. Then she'd be embarrassed. Mortified. He'd probably scold her, tell her to fuck off or something. Maybe he'd think she was a pervert trying to spying on him in an intimate moment. But still, Anne wanted to see it again. She wanted to be near it, and watch it cum all thick, white and sticky between the pages. The man twisted and turned randomly through the stacks at a wandering pace until he ended up in a section that was more or less deserted. Finally, he stopped, and grabbed a book from one of the shelves. He opened it, and looked like he was deeply engaged with the subject. Anne passed by the aisle pretending to be preoccupied with her own literature hunt, ...