Library Philosophy

Hatred is never appeased by hatred in this world; it is appeased by love. This is an eternal Law," I read out loud. I looked up at my study partner.

"Who said that?" Erik asked me. We were at the university library, studying for our term papers for our Philosophy of Love class.

"Buddha," I said. I had a stack of books before me on ancient eastern philosophies. My paper was going to be a study in how the evolution of love in the East differs from the concept in modern Western thought.

"Smart dude," he said absently, not even looking up from the book he had propped in front of him.

"Think about it," I said. "The whole notion of love thy enemy, turn the other cheek, etc., its a beautiful thing."

"Mmhmm," he murmered.

I kicked him in the shin underneath the table.

"Ow!" he looked up. "What the hell was that for?"

"Because you're not paying attention," I stuck out my tongue at him. Erik was a good friend of mine. He was roommates with one of my best friends, whom I casually dated occasionally. His roommate and I often would hit the movies, or catch out the latest band, or just fuck like bunnies. He was a lot of fun. While Erik was definitely the cuter of the two, his roommate was more outgoing. Erik and I had developed a good friendship. We'd gone out a couple of times, but never anything beyond a platonic level. He treated me like his roommate's girlfriend, even though I wasn't. He was the only person I knew in my Philosophy class, though, so we'd often get together to work on homework and whatnot. He'd called me up yesterday, asking if I wanted to meet at the uni library to research for our papers. I quickly agreed. Studying with him was far more fun than studying alone. I'd dressed for the occasion, in my best sexy library outfit: short, pin-striped black skirt, garter nylons with a seam in the back, black heels, and a tailored button-down blouse, unbuttoned just far enough for my bra to occasionally peek out when I turned just right. I admit, it was a deliberate attempt to catch his attention, but that man was just not biting the bait.

He looked up at me and sighed. "I'm paying attention, dork. Buddha, got it. Smart guy. Dead guy. Now, if you don't mind, I'm trying to read."

"Whatcha reading?" I asked him.

"Philosophy in the Bedroom," He replied, turning a page.

Well well, that was a more intriguing book than mine, just based on the title alone. My ears perked up. "Oh really? Who wrote it?"

"The Marquis de Sade," he replied.

I was a little shocked. He was hardly mentioned in our textbook, being more a man about dark sexual philosophy than love. I looked over at his stack of books, checking out the titles. I saw more titles by de Sade: 'Justine, or the Misfortunes of Virtue;' 'Juliette;' and '120 days of Sodom.' I saw a copy of 'The Story of O.' And then there were two interesting biographies that caught my eye: 'The First Masochist: A Biography of Leopold Von Sacher-Masoch,' and 'The Marquis and the Chevalier: A study of the psychology of sex as illustrated by the lives and personalities of the Marquis de Sade and the Chevalier von Sacher-Masoch.' My eyes widened. "Umm, Erik, those books aren't exactly about the philosophy of love."

"Sure, they are," he looked at me. "Tough love." He grinned.

I chuckled. "Just what is your paper about? I'm all curious now." I'd read a few of the ones in his stack, I was no ignorant school girl, no pun intended.

"How you can love someone and still want to hurt them, or be hurt by them, in a non-abusing sort of way."

"So, the love of surrender and sexual sadomasochism," I rephrased for him.

"Hey, I like that title, mind if I use it?" Erik grabbed a pen and started writing it down.

"Be my guest," I replied, with a wave of my hand. "Your topic's much better than mine. I wish I had thought of that," I muttered.

"Why's that? Yours is great, too. Imagine a world populated by Gandhi-esque thinkers."

"Yeah, that was kind of what I was going with, but damn man, I've read half the books in your stack, it would have been easier to go with what I know than something I don't."

He raised an eyebrow and looked at me. "You have? What for?"

I smiled demurely, "For the pleasure of it." I looked down at my book, pretending to study again.

I saw him put his pencil down out of the corner of my eye, and lean across the table. "You? Little miss sweet & innocent?"

"Is that who I am?" I gasped. "And here I thought I was little miss debauchery."

He grinned. "Darlin', that's not the impression you give off."

I grinned back, setting my book back down on the table. "Good, then my secret identity is still safe." I winked at him. He just shook his head. "You know," I continued, "Its not wise to write about something you don't know. Book smarts do not compare to actual experience." I admit, I was baiting big time with that comment. I just hoped he'd pick up on the hints. Men can be such stumps sometimes.

"Oh yeah? What about you? Miss ancient eastern philosophy?"

"I thought I was little miss sweet & innocent!" I protested. "Besides, I practice what I preach. I love my enemy, and turn the other cheek, and all that stuff."

"Well, you are one of the nicest girls I know," he conceded. "What happens when you turn the other cheek?"

"It usually gets slapped." I winked at him.

He sprouted a wicked grin. "And all this time I thought you were..." he trailed off.

"Thought I was what?" I prompted, smiling the most innocent smile I could.

"Well, a nice girl."

I laughed out loud. "A nice girl. I am a nice girl. All that noise you hear coming from your roommate's bedroom when I'm over - that's me being oh so very nice. We play nice games. Very nice games." My stomach tingled, just thinking about the fun bedroom games we'd played.

"Oh yeah?" Erik had a thoughtful expression on his face. "Wanna play a game, little miss sweet & innocent?"

"What kind of a game?" I asked coyly, shifting in my seat. I liked this turn of conversation.

He grinned wickedly at me. "The kind where I tell you what to do and you do it."

"Like what?" I asked, hoping I'd like his answer. I was getting very turned on with the way our conversation was heading. This might turn out to be the best study date ever.

He leaned forward, and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Take off your panties, little girl."

I dropped my jaw. "What, right here?" I whispered fiercely. He nodded his head. I looked around the library. There were a few students scattered about, studying at various tables, wandering through the aisles of books. It was a typical university library, quiet and studious. "But there's too many people!" I protested, squirming in my chair a bit.

"I don't have all day," he whispered, grabbing my hand forcefully. "You've got 30 seconds."

I looked at him, stunned, wasting a few precious seconds. He was very serious. I gulped, and looked around me again. No one was watching us, all the other students were dutifully minding their own business. I shifted in my chair, reached up my skirt, and carefully drew my thong down my legs, and over my shoes. I wadded it up into a little ball underneath the table and placed it in his hand. He opened up the ball of cloth, holding my thong up in front of him, admiring the little piece of black fabric.

"Put that down," I gasped. "You're going to draw us too much attention!"

He just grinned. "No one's watching, no one cares, and if they did, you'd do it anyway, wouldn't you, little girl." He wadded it back up and shoved it in his pants pocket.

I gulped again. My stomach did a little flip-flop. I nodded my head. He'd been studying his books well, I thought.

"Good," he smiled. "Now your bra. Give it to me."

I glared at him. "I can't take that off here!" I protested.

Erik sighed. "Look, I know you girls can most definitely take off a bra without undoing a single button. Its this magic talent you have, so do it!"

I stared at him blankly. I reached behind me, and unclasped it from the outside of my shirt. I wiggled my shoulders, forcing the straps to fall off. I reached up one sleeve, and slipped one strap off my arm. I reached up the other and did the same. Then I reached inside my cleavage, and slowly slipped my bra off, not even looking to see if anyone was watching, not wanting to know, hoping that they weren't, hoping that if they were it turned them on. I folded it neatly and set it on his book.

He smiled approvingly. "Good girl." He grabbed my lacy black bra and put it in his book bag. "Now come with me," he ordered, standing up, and grabbing my hand. I let him lead me off down through the aisles of books, to the back of the library, amongst the dustiest of tomes on the dustiest of shelves. I walked without underwear, feeling naked and exposed, while being fully dressed. I shivered involuntary as a chill ran down my spine.

He shoved me up against a rack of books. I could feel the spines of the tomes pressing into my back. His body pressed against mine. He was tall. Easily a foot taller than me. He really did make me feel like a little girl. I moaned. "Now you better be quiet," he whispered into my ear, causing goosebumps to descend down my body with his breath, "We're in a library."

I furtively glanced left and right. "But what if someone catches-" I started to protest

He put a hand over my mouth, cutting my sentence off mid-stream. "That's not your concern, little girl. Your only concern is me."

I nodded my head mutely.

"And the only thought that should be running through your brain is, 'what would make Erik happy?' Do you know what would make me happy?" he nibbled on my ear, sending a new rash of goosebumps coursing acorss my skin. I wrapped my arms around his side, pulling him in closely, rational thought leaving my brain.

"What?" I whispered.

"Unbutton your blouse." He stepped back and stared meaningfully at me.

I dared not look left or right to see if anyone was there, but out of the corners of my eyes I spotted no movement. I slowly slid my hands up my blouse and began to unbutton it, slowly, one button at a time. Finally it fell open to my naval, and I stood there, braless, in front of the man, in the back of the library, with my hard nipples and small breasts poking out of my shirt. He reached forward, caressing one of my tits. I shuddered and gasped. He tweaked one of my nipples. "Shh!" I bit my lip, stifling a moan.

He grabbed both breasts forcefully, gripping tight, digging his fingers deep into my flesh. I leaned back, exhaling softly, willing myself to silence. My hands grasped the shelf behind me, gripping it tightly. He leaned forward, leaning up against me. His shirt felt rough against my sensitive nipples. "What lovely breasts you have," he said, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling it back, exposing my neck. He bit the nape of my neck. "I want you to play with them for me." He stepped back again, watching me.

I closed my eyes, mentally willing everyone to stay away from this aisle. I reached up and gently rubbed my nipples. "You can do better than that. He kicked my shin.

I opened my eyes, inhaling sharply. "Ouch!" I glared at him.

"Shut up and do it," he ordered.

I stared into his eyes. The look there was compelling. I pinched my nipples, and twisted them, just the way I liked it, pulling them out away from my body harshly. "Do you have any idea how hot that is, little girl? Watching you play with yourself in the back of the library? You are such a slut." He bent over and bit one of my nipples, hard, taking my breath away. I grabbed his head tightly, pulling him against me. I felt a twinge in my crotch, as though an invisible line was connected to my nipples. He grabbed my other hand, and shoved it underneath my skirt. "Play with yourself. He slid my skirt up, so my bare ass was against the cold metal shelf behind me, my pussy open to the library air. He stepped back again to watch me. "I want you to make yourself sloppy wet for me. Rub your clit, little girl, rub it hard."

So there I stood, in the back of the library, my blouse hanging open, my skirt shoved up to my waist, no underwear, with a hand in my snatch. I slowly began to rub my pussy. It was already wet. I was going to make it sloppy. I grabbed the shelf behind me for stability, leaned back, and spread my legs wantonly. I wanted to cum. I wanted to cum right there in the back of the library. I wanted to cum in front of this man who was making me rub my cunt. I moaned softly as I flicked my clit with my fingers, sending spirals of pleasure radiating outward. He put a hand over my mouth. "Shut up, unless you want to draw an audience," he whispered into my ear. He watched my hand closely, as I rubbed in a circular motion. I could feel an orgasm building. He slipped a finger into my mouth. I sucked on it, catching a moan in the back of my throat. He slipped his hand underneath my ass, and slid his wet finger inside my asshole. I gasped sharply, and instantly came with a series of shudders and gasps, right there, in the back of the library, with his finger deep inside my ass, and my fingers deep inside my soaking wet pussy. My knees were so weak, I'm certain that if it weren't for his hand underneath me, supporting me, I would have dropped to the floor right then and there.

"Oh, you are such a good slut," he murmured into my ear. He turned me around and leaned me up against the shelf, running his hands all over my exposed rear. "I'm going to fuck you, little girl, right here, right now, in the back of the library. You better be quiet, unless you want to draw an audience." He emphasized his point by pulling my head back sharply by a handful of my hair.

"Yes, sir," I whispered quietly, standing very still, willing my knees to steady themselves. I heard the metallic sound of his zipper, and then felt the head of his cock pushing against my very wet pussy. It slid in easily, and with a forceful shove, he was balls deep inside me. I arched my back and inhaled deeply. Holding onto me by my hair, he fucked me hard and fast against the shelf of books, as I held my breath to keep silent. I grabbed tightly on the shelf, and fucked him back.

"When I cum," he whispered, "You're going to get on your knees and swallow every drop. He let go of my hair and grabbed me by my hips for better leverage. I nodded my head in understanding. A few moments later, he whipped his dick out of me, spun me around and forced me to my knees. I opened my mouth and sucked greedily on his cock like a bitch in heat, as he came in spurts down my throat. I licked and sucked until there was no more cum to lick and suck, and he forced my head off his cock. "Oh, you delightful fucking slut." I grinned up at him.

He pulled me to my feet. "Come on, we better get back to our books."

I hastily buttoned up my shirt and pulled my skirt down. As we turned to go down the aisle, I saw a face with wide eyes quickly disappear from around the end. "I think we were spotted," I told him with a sly grin.

He slapped my ass. "I told you to be quiet," he laughed playfully. "That was fun. I think I'll keep your underwear for a while."

The following Monday as I walked into my Philosophy of Love classroom and approached my desk next to his, there sat my black bra and thong with a note on top that simply read, "thank you."

I was a good study partner. Erik got an A.