One mistake could change the course of the whole day. Or more.
Bibi was an assistant librarian at the largest library in the city. Five floors, six hundred thousand books, a well-equipped multimedia center, six conference rooms, one auditorium and many, many places to sit down and read, study or work. To be in this huge place often felt like being a mouse skittering around a house built for giants.
Bibi disliked comparisons to mice, as her style was often called 'mousy.' Thick-rimmed black glasses and chestnut hair swept back into a ponytail, dark knitted sweater, black skirt hemmed a few inches above the knee, thigh-high stockings and heels... she just wanted to keep the library in tidy order and assist anyone she could without drawing too much attention to herself.
But one mistake this morning was playing over and over again in her head.
Last night, Bibi had stayed up a little past her normal bedtime of 9:00PM. When her alarm tried to rouse her at 6AM, she did something she never did.
She actually hit the snooze button.
Bibi got nine minutes more sleep, but at the cost of completely upturning her morning routine. Without those crucial minutes, she didn't have time for her electric kettle to heat up the water she needed to make her morning oatmeal while she was in the shower. She bathed as fast as she could, but she was still behind her normal expected time where she could leave her house and avoid the traffic. Bibi dressed in a mad rush and grabbed a prepackaged breakfast bar to eat in the car on the drive in.
Visibly, everything was in place. She looked just how she did on any other day working at the library.
With one exception.
A library patron, a college student with a hoodie and backwards baseball cap, had asked Bibi if she could get a reference book from the top shelf of the stacks. The rolling ladder was right there, and Bibi could easily climb this device as she had many times before and come down with the requested volume.
But in Bibi's haste to get out the door, she had forgotten to put on panties.
She noticed it the moment she sat down in her car, the fuzzy upholstery of her car seat touching places normally protected by that sliver of silk. She should have ran back up to her apartment and grabbed a pair before leaving... but then she might get caught in traffic!
Bibi was never, ever late. She had never even been on time. She was always, always early. Even if it was just by one minute, she was always there before the bell, so to speak.
(In her youth, working in the relative chaos of retail, she was appalled how many of her co-workers would show up 'on time' and then disappear in the locker room to change into their uniform. Why not just wear the uniform to work? Was the battle against wage theft even covering dressing yourself in the appropriately colored polo? The only people you're stealing from are your coworkers who have to wait for your less-appropriately dressed rear end.)
Less-appropriately dressed rear end... Bibi didn't want to think about that right now. It made her heart race even harder. The man was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her answer. She couldn't leave him waiting long. The ladder was there, the book was there... she was there. All the necessary elements were in place. But if she were to climb this ladder all the way to the top, and if he were to glance up at her as she ascended...
She couldn't even think of it. It was too embarrassing to even contemplate. Her feet clung to the floor like heavy bags of cement. But what could she do?
Maybe she could ask HIM to climb the ladder and reach the book himself. Normally, she got very annoyed when people made use of the ladders by themselves, especially if it was just to climb around without purpose like a wooden jungle gym. But if a coworker caught her allowing a patron to do this, she would surely be in trouble for opening them up to such liability. What if he fell off and broke his neck? What good would that book of maps of the Iberian peninsula do him then, except to direct him to a passionate Spanish workplace injury attorney?
Summoning her courage, Bibi took a deep breath and accepted the task. She put one foot on the lowest rung, and her knee was already shaking. She wasn't afraid of heights, or at least not the meager heights that a ladder presented her with. But an experience like this might give her such a phobia. With even breaths, she slowly climbed the ladder one step at a time. Keep three points of contact on the ladder at all times. That's what they told her in training, but nobody in training ever seemed to know what to do once you had hold of a large heavy book at the top of the ladder.
Bibi didn't dare look down. She knew that her skirt hem was just above the top of his head. If he only had that darn ball cap turned around the proper way, maybe he wouldn't be able to see up her skirt after all. That's what the bill on the cap was for, right? Protecting the eyes from the sun? Maybe people started wearing it backwards to protect the backs of their necks from sunburn, thus trying to relieve them of that ever-disparaging nickname for unsophisticated southerners.
She got the book off the shelf and tucked it under her arm, descending as carefully as she could. She passed the book to the patron and quickly turned away from him. He barely looked up from his phone to accept the book from her before turning and walking away.
Bibi was alone in the aisle of books now. The man had evidently respected her privacy enough to not peek up her skirt as she ascended a ladder. Young people nowadays were so used to images of glamorous and scantily-clad women eagerly posting manipulated pictures to social media, maybe a peek of panties just wasn't enough for him anymore.
She stared down at herself glumly. Her black skirt was tented upward with something hard between her legs: her fully-erect penis.
How on Earth did she get out of the house without panties? Maybe she had it tucked just right so it felt as if it was stuffed into her undies like normal. As it was, she was now in a much worse predicament than before. Why didn't she keep a spare pair in her glove compartment? Everything else she could possibly need in an emergency was stored there...
Bibi had never faced this predicament before. It's not that she didn't occasionally experience sexual feelings at work. Some of the patrons were attractive and charming, but surely none of them wanted her, right? Most people assured Bibi that she was a comely young woman, but they'd surely be scared off by this extension. Why bother thinking about such things at work when nothing will ever result from it?
Something about the threat of being seen, helpless as the man on the floor watches her cock and balls pinched between her skinny thighs... this had left her quite aroused.
Bibi felt very exposed, standing between these two long bookshelves. Her head darted back and forth like she was at a tennis match. The library was a place of quiet, but that only meant that someone could spring on you at any time with no warning. Having an erection in public was like running into a disliked coworker at the movie theater. She knew how she'd normally handle this... but out here, the rules were different.
As much as she wanted to get rid of this right now, there was no way she could possibly even think of doing that in a public place. If someone were to catch her, she'd die of shame. (Bibi also realized that running late also meant that she hadn't been able to do this in the shower this morning.) The only obvious option left was to tuck it into her clothes and get to a private place to calm down. Bibi unzipped the side of her skirt and tried to bring it around the base of her cock, hiding the bulk of it under her sweater. But her waist was so petite and small, her cock so thick... she couldn't zip the skirt's zipper up with her cock inside the waistband.
Unwisely, Bibi tried to force the zipper up, despite its strong protests to being stretched. She tugged and tugged, but the skirt would not make room for this new girth. With one last tug, the zipper snapped and broke apart, the skirt separating and sliding off her hips like a loose ribbon.
Bibi squeaked quietly like a startled chipmunk. She bent over to recover the broken skirt. Before today, having someone see her bare bottom at her job would be enough for her to change her name and move to another state. Compared to the humiliation she'd face if anyone saw her erection, mooning someone didn't even compare.
She withdrew a single bobby pin from her hair and bent it to hold the skirt together without the zipper. It felt like it would stay, but of course, her cock was still pushing the rest of the skirt upwards, refusing to be hidden. Keeping most of the shaft barely hidden in her sweater seemed unnecessary when the rest of it, including her balls, were just hanging free. At least her rear was covered.
Bibi tried to calm herself, even if her lower extension would take much greater urging to do so. She could get out of this predicament. She just had to keep her wits about her and not worry about the possible consequences of everyone she works with seeing her huge uncontrollable erection. Maybe not spelling it out like that would help.