Unrequited Love 8

Mary reached out her hand silencing her alarm clock, cursing it for dragging her back from her dreams into a reality that she, for the most part, despised. She rose from her prone position to sit, leaning against the headboard, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Suddenly it dawned on her, like the sun that shone in through her half opened curtains; it was Wednesday, her day. The other six days could go-to-hell, as long as she had Wednesday. He would come into the library today and she would watch him. The dreams of the night faded with the daylight, but those of today would linger long enough for her to use them tonight. She reached out for her vibrator, testing it. At twenty four this had still been her only lover, taking her virginity two years ago. She caressed it, and then returned it back onto the bedside table. Better buy some new batteries, she thought, just in case.

He rose, later then usual, his early morning erection causing the sheet to 'tent' at his groin. He reached for it, lovingly, and began to stroke. He stopped, it's Wednesday, he thought, can't do that on a Wednesday, not until tonight when he returned after seeing her. He looked across the room at the stack of books on the table, books he had never read, books he never intended to read. It didn't matter what their titles were, or who wrote them. They lay where he put them from one week to the next, unopened.

She showered and dressed; her usual attire. Not for her the bright gaudy colours; tan, ochre, earthy tints were her refuge. Something someone would buy thirty years ago, for a librarian. Clothes that would allow her to pass unnoticed through the crowds; clothes that helped her preserve her anonymity. No one saw Mary, no eyebrows were raised at her passing by, no one glanced in her direction thinking her attractive or worth a second look. It was just how she liked it. Even at the university people barely knew her name, she was just the dowdy girl from room six, who was never seen with a guy. Some thought she was gay, but they never saw her with a girl either. Not that it bothered her; she liked her own company, that is, until he entered the library. It took her a while to realise why she was attracted to him, then it came to her, he was just like her, anonymous.

She left her small apartment and wandered slowly down the street towards the coffee shop. She could make her own, but it tasted so much better here. Having selected her favourite blend, she sat at a pavement table, her usual place. It was here that she would fantasize, except today was Wednesday. On other days she would watch as the men went by, mentally undressing them, her mind sometimes giving them grotesquely long penises swinging like pendulums between their legs, on others tiny ones like those of a pre-pubescent schoolboy. But today her fantasies were to be reserved, untainted, for him.

She finished her coffee and continued towards the library and in through the swing doors. After signing in she positioned herself in the sci-fi section, pretending to work, and waited.

He showered and dressed. Crisp white shirt, tan trousers, and tweed jacket. He selected a tie, brown to complement the rest of his attire. Not for him the open collar, casual look. He straightened his tie, carefully, and buttoned up his jacket. He felt that those who wandered around with their jackets loose looked half dressed, as if they had just thrown their clothes on. He looked into the mirror, smart as usual.

Leaving his apartment he walked towards the library. As always he looked straight ahead, never glancing left or right. He never wanted to 'catch' anyone's eye, or elicit any 'good morning' or 'hi', as he walked, not that he thought that they would. No one noticed him; he was just the guy from 27B, his name unknown by most, if not all. No one saw him with a girl, some thought he might be gay, but no one saw him with a guy either. He didn't care what anyone thought, only her. He entered the library and saw her, replacing books in the sci-fi section. Selecting a book, any book, he settled down into a straight back chair and watched, peering over the top of the book, ducking down behind it if he thought she might turn and spot him.

She saw him enter and bent down, replacing books she had just removed back into the same position. She glanced at him, he seemed engrossed in his book, she couldn't see the title, not that it mattered. Her mind drifted to the fantasy world she adored, he was waiting for her there. She concentrated, making the images almost real, her day dream began.

He moves toward her, the library empty, and strokes her hair, his hands soft and gentle. She takes one and presses it against her cheek, turning her head slightly she kisses it before drawing it down and allowing his finger to enter her mouth. She sucks on it, erotically, his finger caressing her tongue. He removes his hand and cups her face bending down to her, his lips meeting hers, gently at first, then more urgently. They kiss, his tongue snaking into her mouth, playing 'catch' with hers. His hands move to her shoulders, easing away her jacket, allowing it to drop to the floor at her feet. He caresses her breasts, cupping them, feeling the nipples erect under his fingers through the thin fabric. He begins to unbutton her shirt, concentrating on each one, easing it through the hole, exposing more and more of her to his eyes. Her shirt opens for him, he slides it from her; she stands, coyly before him, her bra still covering her modesty. He reaches behind her, unclasping and removing it. Her hands at her side, she stands Venus like, bare from the waist up; his eyes feast on her. He bends and taking each nipple into his mouth in turn, he suckles her. She groans, her head tilts back, eyes closed, her nipples tingle as he sucks, drawing them into his mouth. Her hands touch his shoulder before pushing him downward.

He unzips her, the dress falls to the ground, her panties follow. His gaze falls on her bush, rich and luxurious. He moves down further, breathing in her scent. His tongue laps at her outer lips, her legs widen, to give him access to her. Her clit screams for his attention. He obliges, sucking her pearl gently, his tongue playing around its rim. Knees buckling, she sinks in front of him; he stands, his groin level with her head, his hardness obvious. Reaching inside, she finds him ready, she draws him out. The end of his penis is wet with his juices; she licks at him, tasting his salty fluid on her tongue.

Pushing forward he enters her mouth, the smooth head sliding over her lips, touching her teeth, then further. Her tongue curls around it, caressing it, and she feels it move downward towards her throat. She has all of him inside her mouth, she sucks, cheeks hollowing. She hears him groan, she would smile, if she could. He moves out slightly, then back in, making love to her mouth. She loves it, but she wants him, elsewhere. Removing him from her mouth, she rests back onto the cold, hard floor, barely noticing the discomfort. Watching him unbuckle his trousers, she licks her lips in anticipation. He kneels between her legs, his lance in his hand, ready to impale her. She feels him lean forward, the head of his manhood at her opening; she holds her breath as he enters her. She gasps as her sex opens for him, her lips moulding themselves arround him as he slides in, welcoming him.

He begins to move, swinging his hips, each inward thrust sending him deeper into her. She's full of him now, their bodies joined at the groin. She feels at one with him. He covers her, his breath hot on her neck, panting as he moves faster into her. His breathing stops for a few seconds, then he utters a guttural sound, almost animal like, she feels him flooding her, his seed filling her 'love channel'. Her tingling starts, beginning at the place they are joined, then spreading like waves through her body. The pleasure point in her brain feels as if it is about to explode. Then...

"Excuse me, didn't you hear me?" a woman stood alongside her, frustration evident, "I've been asking you about the latest Joan Collins book for five minutes," she exaggerated, "You've ignored me."

"I'm sorry, madam," she replies, "I didn't hear."

He saw her talking, animatedly, to a woman, his mind drifted as he watched. He blinked, he was still in the library, but things had changed; his fantasy took on form, solidified.

She stands before him, clad in a crisp white shirt; his shirt; unbuttoned, braless. He looks down her body, tight, very tight jeans; the material moulding itself into her groin. He can see her cunt lips pushing into the fabric. He reaches for her, she steps back, teasing him. She moves her shirt to the side exposing her full breasts, caressing them, the nipples erecting before his eyes. She points to him, then downward, her hand dipping below her waistband. He can see her hand outlined in the denim; he sees her fingers moving, entering her. He moves towards her a second time, she doesn't move.

His hands move to her breasts, his head follows. He sucks on her; his hands moving lower to loosen her jeans. Buckle undone, zipper down, the jeans stay in position, too tight to fall on their own. He pulls the denim down, over her arse, unpeeling her, releasing her. He looks down, sees her red thong, barely covering her snatch. Bending he completes his task, she is almost naked for him, only the thong remains. He can smell her arousal; he licks her through the thin red fabric, pushing it into her until her lips surround it. His hands move to the thin straps, he pulls, hard; they give way with a crack. She stands, naked before him, shaven, her cunt lips glistening with her juices. He licks the length of them, his tongue coated with her lubrication.

His tongue seeks out her clit, he sucks on it. Two fingers enter her; easily. He finger fucks her as he sucks; she groans pulling his head tighter into her groin, grinding her pussy against him.

He rises, his face wet with her juices, she dries him with her tongue, then goes to her knees in front of him. She draws him out, erect, struggling to release his cock from its confinement. It appears in front of her, precum glistening on the end. She looks up at him, smiles, then feeds his cock deep into her mouth, inch by inch disappearing inside, until her chin rests against his balls. Moving slowly, she fellates him. He holds her head, gently, as his hips swing, fucking her mouth. His cum fills his balls, demanding release. He withdraws pushing her gently, prone onto the hard floor. He kneels between her legs, his cock at her cunt, then pushes forward entering her warm chasm. She welcomes him inside, her hands move to his arse, pulling him deeper. He begins to fuck her, long deep strokes. His balls feel as if they're about to burst with the pressure of his cum. He can hold off no longer, ejaculate pours from him, high into her. She stiffens under him, her eyes close, she shudders violently, her climax overwhelms her. He smiles down at her; he has given her the ultimate pleasure.

"I'm sorry," a voice dragged him back into the real world, his fantasy fading, slightly. His book had been knocked from his grasp and was lying on the floor at his feet. He saw the matronly old librarian look down, distain on her face. He followed her gaze to his groin, a dark patch staining the front of his pants. He grabbed his book, covering his embarrassment.

Standing, he moved to the checkout, another book destined, unread, for the table held in front of him. He saw her, still in the sci-fi section. Why would she not look at him, he thought, if only for a second, but she never would. She was too far above him to notice a storekeeper like him. He would have to rely on his fantasies and the odd glance he dared send in her direction. At least he had Wednesdays with her, if only in his day dreams, and tonight, yes...he would enjoy her again, tonight.

She saw him leave the library. If only he would notice her, just a single word to break the ice, just 'hi' would do. But who would notice the girl who returns the books back to the shelves in the library, not him. He could have his choice of girls, if he wished, he would never want her. At least she had her fantasy, for tonight. Then he would warm her bed, hold her, make love to her, do anything he wanted with her. She dragged her mind back again to reality. Must get some new batteries, she thought, just in case.

SIX MONTHS LATER

Mary reached out her hand, silencing the alarm clock, welcoming the intrusion, her dreams bland and uninteresting, her fantasy world barely worth remaining in. She sat up in bed, realising that it was Wednesday, not that it mattered anymore. She looked at the table next to the bed; only the clock occupied it now, the vibrator consigned to the drawer, climaxes eluding her without his weekly visits. Mary had achieved her career goal, but at what cost?

He rose, earlier than usual. Looking down, the sheet still 'tented' at his groin with his early morning erection, but only the need to urinate responsible. No erotic dreams of her to tempt him to dally with it; he hadn't had one for months, since the day she left. It was Wednesday; he decided that this was the last day that he would continue his task. He looked across the room at the table, bare now, no books occupied it.

She showered and dressed. Her usual attire, perhaps a little smarter with her increased wages, but still conservative, some would say dowdy. She left her apartment and walked slowly down the street and towards the library. No coffee shop to pass, no smells to entice her inside, she would make her own when she got to work. People nodded as she passed them, they knew her now, the librarian was expected to be part of the community. She unlocked the doors and entered, switching on the lights, bathing the books in harsh flouresance. Moving to her office, she filled the kettle, ready for her first coffee of the day, and sat, wondering what he was doing. Was he rising about now, heading for the library? A tear formed and was wiped away. God, how she missed him, she thought, but at least she had her books. A small rural library of her own had been her reward for her years of work. Truth to tell, she only got the job because no one else wanted it. Another girl replaced the returned books onto the shelves, no longer the mundane day to day work for Mary.

He showered and dressed; crisp white shirt, tan trousers, and tweed jacket. He selected a tie and discarded it, a little more casual now that he thought he wouldn't be seeing her. He picked it up again, folded it and put it into his pocket. Maybe today he would find her; it had to be today or never. He spread a map onto the table; it was covered in small crosses, each one representing a library he had visited, searching for her. He realised that there were none left in the county, so where else to go? His only option was to go back to the last, and only, place he had seen her; the local library.

He left his apartment and walked purposefully down the street, passed her favourite coffee shop, although he didn't know it. He entered the sci-fi section bringing the memories of her into sharp focus; a tear forming that was wiped swiftly away. Selecting a book, any book, he sat and waited, for what, he didn't know. Perhaps he was just bathing in her memory for one last time. Two assistants walked by, one her replacement, talking, his ears pricked up, the mention of one of the more obscure rural libraries attracting his attention. He'd already visited it but perhaps this was the lead he was looking for, his last chance. Leaving the library he headed for his rental car, silently praying for success.

It was nearly time to close; she wandered through the library, her library, making sure no one was left inside before locking up. The staff had left for the day. She heard them making plans for the evening, boyfriends the usual subject. She envied them their personal lives; to have someone to care about you was something she dreamt about. If only he had spoken to her, life would have been perfect but it was not to be. Why, she thought, he would speak to her she didn't know, she was, after all, only the girl who replaced the returned books onto the shelves, a nobody.

She heard someone enter the library, a latecomer. She didn't mind, after all, she had nothing to go to her new apartment for, no one to meet, no one to greet her as she entered, or give her a 'welcome home' kiss. She walked around the end of the sci-fi section, then stood, amazed. In front of her was a young man; crisp white shirt, tan trousers and tweed jacket, buttoned up, a brown tie to complement the rest of his attire.

He entered the small town and parked near to the library. After deciding that this was definitely his last attempt to find her, he locked the car and walked towards the small stone building. Putting the keys into his pocket his fingers felt the rolled up tie, he hesitated. If she was there, would he like her to see him collar undone, half dressed?

He put his tie on and buttoned up his jacket, presentable again. Reciting a final silent prayer he climbed the stairs and entered the library. Only the front desk was lit, obviously closing time. He turned to leave; a notice above a group of bookcases attracted his attention, the sci-fi section. Could this be more than just an indication of the books below, he thought? He turned, hearing footsteps behind him. He stood, eyes wide open, as she walked towards him, he as stunned as she appeared to be to see him.

Their eyes locked together, neither spoke for few moments, then both simultaneously. "I've missed you," she said, "But what are you doing here?"

"I've been searching for you everywhere, this was my last chance."

"You never noticed me, I didn't know you cared," she added.

"I thought you wouldn't want me, I was too scared to speak to you, so I just watched."

"Me too," she said, moving towards him, still unsure. Then he raised his arms to her and she melted into his embrace. Her head rested on his shoulder; complete at last.

"I used to fantasize about you," he whispered, confiding his intimate secret.

"Me too," she confessed, embarrassed.

"No, I mean really fantasized."

She raised her head and looked into his eyes, a blush spreading over her face.

"You mean you...thinking about me?" he said.

She didn't reply, but blushed even more.

"You've no idea what I did, after I left the library," he admitted, barely able to look at her.

"I think I do, now," she smiled, coyly; "We were both probably doing it, at the same time."

"How stupid we were, we could have been doing it, together," he whispered.

"If we were together we wouldn't be doing that, we'd be doing something else," she answered, her confidence growing by the second.

"It's not too late, is it?"

"It's never too late," she said, her hands running down his back, caressing his arse cheeks.

"We can't...not here, can we?" he said, hoping that he hadn't misinterpreted her actions.

"Why not, it's my library," she answered.

They broke off their embrace and she led him towards her office at the rear of the building.

What am I doing, she thought, we shouldn't be doing this, especially not here. Yes we should, she mentally answered herself, we should have done it six months ago. I'm going to fuck his brains out! God, did I just think that!? The conversation continuing in her head. Must stop myself...no, mustn't ever stop.

They entered her small office and she turned towards him. He bent down to her, their lips meeting, gently brushing each other. Her tongue darted out, flicking at him, his mouth opened, her tongue entered, playing with his. All eyes closed, their tongues entwined. Mary could feel any reserve left melting away; she wanted him, filling her. She backed away slightly and reached up, removing his tie.