I: Art
Art was late. The tattered hem of his jeans scuffed lightly over the worn-down carpet of the college library giving his hurried walk a rhythmic shuffle, releasing any pretense of respectful silence. Art didn't really care but he was glad anyone bothered by his noisy passing seemed content to simply shoot him a nasty look. He just didn't have time for them. He hustled down an aisle and hissed a curse when he realized he was still in the wrong section.
He was supposed to have met with his new project partner for his senior philosophy class but had missed the appointment because of, well, because he was a 22 year old college guy and shit just happened. Shit seemed to happen to Art quite a lot, especially missed appointments. Nearly all of his free time was spent sketching in one of his many, notebooks. Though his pastime and name might speak otherwise to his future, he was a psychology student and nearing the end of his collegiate studies.
Once he'd realized he had missed the appointment time he had decided to simply track down the two main books he and his partner were supposed to base their paper on. He was getting close he knew and so slowed his frantic charge through the book stacks to a smooth stroll.
Art saw the appropriately numbered shelf and turned down the aisle, before stopping in his tracks. A short way down the aisle before him was a young woman bent over near the lower shelves. Even if he hadn't found her in such a compromising position, Art still would've checked her out. To read the lower titles she had bent very low at the waist causing her behind to stick up and out. She was in short but effective heels that pumped out her calves and the lower inches of her thigh muscles in supple curves. Her dress matched the peacock blue hue of her heels exactly and it clung tightly to her body giving Art a rather obscene perspective.
She bent slightly lower and Art became fixated as the rondure of her cheeks spread beneath their blue covering. Her back arched as she reached for the shelf and Art felt himself growing hard after a few moments of gazing at this girl's posterior. The show quickly ended as the girl straightened, tossing long shining black locks over her shoulders.
Art froze. She's about to turn around, run! Do not let her catch you with your dick half-hard. He swiftly pivoted, his bag shaking and rattling, his jeans scuffing, and drawing her attention. He walked swiftly around the shelf and when he had gone three stacks down turned down the aisle and returned to where she had been from the other side. He reached the aisle and nearly collided faces with her.
"Oh god! I'm so sorry," she said as books spilled loudly from her startled hands to the floor.
"Damn," Art said in a voice too loud for a crowded city street, much less a library.
Some Shh's were tossed their way, to which Art fired back, "Piss off and mind your own business!"
She knelt down to pick up her things. Art's eyes initially dived down to see the titles of the books but they were captivated this time by the view down her dress. The breasts beneath were the same radiant tan as the rest of her body. Art felt his erection reignite as he stared down into the deep crease of cleavage where her twin swells crept over the line of the dress top. At least some portion of his eye saw the name of the book and a bell rang somewhere deep his brain as some very interesting dots started connecting.
That was the book. She had his book. She was his partner. That would make this hard. Can't get much harder than this, Art thought, but if anyone could do it, she could. Jesus!
Art knelt down and picked up her other book. They stood up together and Art found her looking at him, smiling politely. As intensely as his eyes had become engaged with both her back and front, so too they fell into the beauty of her face. Her generous lips framed straight, white teeth that became a swath of brightness across her heart shaped face. Thin, dark eyebrows arched over brilliant green eyes, their lids colored an ash gray that made them pop even in the tame library lighting. Art felt the seconds tick by and realized he was still staring and they were well within each other's personal space.
And upon realizing that fact he immediately felt his fair skin begin to blush red and so took an all too conspicuous step backwards.
"No I'm sorry," he started, "I never watch where I'm going...and, um, I think we're partners by the way."
"Oh you mean you weren't looking for Borson's Theorems of Positive Reciprocity and Coincidental Engagements for a fun beach read?" She held out the book she had picked up out.
Smiling and reddening further, Art ruffled his shock of mousey brown hair and said simply,
"No but thanks for offering. You must be," he stopped midsentence having forgotten her name. Dammit, it was in the e-mail from the professor, what the hell was it?
"I'm Lexi," she said nodding
"Lexi Monaco! That's it. Art," he said thumbing towards himself, "Art Lander."
"Great, wanna go somewhere and get to work, I can't wait around much longer. But maybe we can get a little done."
"Sure, I think they have some study rooms down that way." Art gestured with the book. She walked towards where he pointed and soon Art found himself a step behind her lovely behind. His eyes lingered below her waist and took in as much detail as they could hold. With every step her dress would stretch across the globe of each cheek then relax until some of the material had become pinched between them defining the top of her butt even further. The dress wedgie is probably very annoying to deal with but god damn is it sexy, Art thought. He followed the subtle bounce of her bottom all the way to the side of the library where she led them to a study room in the corner.
The study room was separated from the rest of the library by a wall and large single paned window. Inside was a small conference table and on the wall across from the window was a large whiteboard for dry erase markers. Once they entered the room Art pulled the door closed and sat his bag and book down at the table. Lexi put her things down similarly then turned to the window.
"Do you mind if I pull the blinds down a little, I feel like a fish in a bowl in these things? Everyone walking down the aisle can just see right in."
"Sure," Art tried to keep his brain from slipping into cheesy porno expectations but didn't have much success, "let's get started. You said you had to go, hot date right?"
As the blinds slid slowly down over the window, Lexi turned and looked at him. One of her angular eyebrows raised in a high arch as she asked,
"Well no, not really. Just have somewhere to be."
Art felt the awkwardness of his comment weigh on him physically. He brushed at his messy hair, this time from back to front as if he could somehow pull it down into a mask and hide his burning cheeks.
"My bad I didn't mean to...we just met but you can already see I don't always think before I speak. You don't have to say anything. We can just work and go on with our own stuff."
"It's really ok," she explained opening the first book, "I just don't go out all that often. Just seemed like an odd thing to assume."
Art was stunned. Doesn't go out that often? Why the hell not? She must get asked out at least twice every time she leaves her house! She surely gets eye-fucked at least once every ten minutes.
"Well," he stammered finally finding his voice again, "I just meant that you look really nice. Dressed up, I mean."