Your Personal Librarian

They say good things come to those who wait...they also say absence makes the heart grow fonder. I held out hope that the former was true, but so far in my experience absence only made the heart grow frustrated.

It had been nine days since our encounter at the dumpster and he had yet to visit the library when I was there. I felt like a pathetic child counting the days, but I couldn't stop obsessing. Wanting coupled with waiting is always difficult, but without a deadline it was completely maddening.

I tried to focus on other things and trust that he was in control and would make use of me again. My brain was working overtime and anxiety wormed its way through my body, tightening all of my muscles and squeezing my chest. Meditation didn't help. Exercise didn't help. Masturbation didn't help. I was a mess.

I was so tight I thought I might snap like worn-out corset laces and the tension could only be released by him. He gave me his card with his contact information but reaching out to him didn't seem like the right thing to do at this point. Maybe it was my masochistic nature or my desire to be a good girl and not a pathetic, needy pet.

He said he was in control of our relationship and that meant I wasn't. I used it as an opportunity to challenge myself and demonstrate my respect for him even though it made me feel like I was in my own personal hell confined in my own head.

As the days passed, it did not get easier. I never reached that enlightened state of acceptance for which I was striving. It was too early in the game and I was too caught up in my desire. I wanted him like I wanted no other.

It was a quiet evening and I was alone at the Reference Desk flipping through the latest Library Journal when I saw him come through the front doors. My heart pounded and I forced myself to exhale slowly. I tried to maintain my composure but my face lit up as he approached. Relief swept over me, but my body did not relax. I was too excited to relax, butterflies dancing in my stomach, juices flowing.

"Good evening, Eileen."

I smiled as I laughed lightly, "Good evening, Sir. How may I be of assistance?"

He smiled back and replied, "You are just the librarian I need tonight. I brought a gift for you." From his book bag he withdrew a black leather-bound journal. As he handed it to me, he spoke, "I realize that my absence the last week and a half probably has been very frustrating for you. I enjoy leaving my girl wanting and keeping her on edge, but I have been frustrated as well and I want to rectify that."

As I took the book, he said, "I want you to record your thoughts and feelings in this journal. It is for you as much as it is for me. You will write every night and submit it to me before you go to bed. If we both are available I may ask you to read it to me otherwise take a picture of your writing and send it to me. It will be handwritten and you may share whatever you like about your day, but it will please me most to read about things you would not normally share. If I am not satisfied with your topics of choice, I will assign you topics."

I nodded as I placed the book on the desk in front of me. My hands glided over the soft cover as I looked up at him. While I had never been a fan of leather, feeling this leather made me begin to understand why people have a leather fetish. The wrinkles made their own unique design and it had that animal smell, a smell that would forever remind me of him.

He watched as I opened the book and felt the thick paper. I smiled as I imagined how my favorite pen would feel on the paper. I lifted it to my nose and smelled the wonderful odor of a new book and delighted in the clean pages waiting to be sullied with our story.

"Thank you, Sir. Is there anything you would like me to write about for the first entry?"

"A good question, Eileen. I do have an idea for you..." His grin was devious as he continued, "I love the buttons going down the entire length of the front of your dress, but I'm afraid it's buttoned too high for my tastes. Unbutton the top buttons until I can see your cleavage."

I looked around the library thankful that it was not busy as I began to open the uppermost buttons. I looked down at the desk as I bared my chest, the valley between my full breasts growing longer and longer. The creamy white flesh of my breasts exposed as my nipples tightened in excitement.

"Now I want you to turn the monitor like you're showing me the screen."

He turned sideways as I obeyed, creating a triangle of privacy, my tits at center-stage. He looked at the screen as he reached into my dress and fondled my big boobs. He hefted them so he could feel the entire weight of the soft flesh in his hands. He grinned as he squeezed the round globes then reached into his pocket and pulled out my favorite kind of nipple clamps with a barrel that twists and tightens deliciously and stays in places no matter how heavy the pressure pulling on them.

I looked up at him as he pinched one nipple and twisted the clamp snugly in place. Despite my best efforts, I let out an audible sigh, my cunt clenching as the pain radiated. I closed my eyes as he affixed the other clamp, both nipples now securely squeezed, the cold chain dangling heavily across my full-figured bosom.

He closed up the front of my dress slightly before whispering wickedly, "Now that we've addressed your nipples, we need to give our attention to your snatch. Tell me how it is feeling."

"I don't know," I mumbled.

"Then you'd better find out. Reach between the buttons on your dress and dip your fingers into your pussy and tell me what you feel."

I groaned and shook my head slightly as he spoke firmly, "Do it, girl."

Savoring the pain emanating from my chest, I felt my cunt flooding with cream at the sound of his command. I scooted my chair back from the desk slightly so that he could see my obeisance. I unbuttoned one button near my lap and spread my thighs wide apart. I nervously glanced around the desk to see if anyone else needed help as I reached my hand through my dress and under my soaking panties.

"My panties are soaking, Sir," I murmured.

"Did I ask about your panties?" he questioned rhetorically.

I shook my head and sneaked my hand into my velvet cream-filled hole, "My cunt is very hot, Sir. And wet...so slippery."

I felt like a writer of bad porn...hot, wet...is that really the best I could do?

"Go on..."

I shook my head. No other words would come to me.

"Ok. Your cunt is hot and wet. What do you want to do?"

I moaned softly, "I want to rub my clit, Sir."

"Then do it, Eileen. Rub your clit and let me watch you cum here at the desk."

I shuddered at the thought but followed his orders. I dipped my middle finger deep into my box and withdrew it. Now coated in my slick juice, I began to draw circles around my clit. I watched him watch me as I began to rub faster, trying hard to remain as still as possible and not be obvious.

I wanted nothing more than to cum for him, right there at the Reference Desk, in the middle of the library. As I rubbed more vigorously, my face flushing, he reached across the desk and grabbed the now warm chain dangling from my aching nipples and tugged.

I groaned as my cunt throbbed and my body pulsed, the crescendo building rapidly when I heard him say, "Cum for me, girl." At his words, my cunt spasmed and ejaculate soaked my panties creating a wet spot on the back of my dress.

As I trembled behind the desk, I slowly came back to reality. I looked around the library frantically wondering if anyone besides him knew what transpired. I panicked slightly as I saw middle-aged woman approaching the desk. I wondered if the area around me smelled like my sex and if my liquid soaked through my dress and onto the chair.

I felt my cheeks burn in humiliation as I stood and took off my sweater, tied it around my waist and sat back down. I hoped it would hide my wet spot and soak up anything that may have leaked on to the chair.

Body aflame, I looked across the desk at him, his roguish grin and taunting eyes staring back at me. He knew my humiliation and the bulge in his trousers showed me how he delighted in it.

As the woman drew closer, he spoke in a hoarse whisper, "Good girl, Eileen. It looks like another patron needs your help. Don't forget your assignment. I trust you will have much to write about."

I took a deep breath, the chain still dangling between my breasts and my cunt still pulsing, and tried to pull my thoughts back to work and the woman now waiting at the desk before answering, "Yes, Sir."

He smiled to the woman waiting behind him before he turned back to me smirking and said loud enough for the woman to hear, ""Thank you for your service today, Eileen. And did you know...? You have a button undone."