During the time that I was an undergraduate engineering major I had a good friend, who I will name Stan, who like me was working to complete his senior project in order to graduate. He spent a lot of time in the library and along the way met a reference librarian named Silvia. The previous story of their encounters was told from Stan's perspective, but now it seems only appropriate that we hear Silvia's version. Note that no person in this story is under the age of 18.
Here's her side of the story:
It was the end of my first semester as the reference librarian on the science and engineering floor at the university library. Although originally from Wisconsin I had gotten a B.S. in Environmental Science form a major Midwestern college and then decided that getting a master's in library science sounded like a great idea. I never had had a very active social life but on occasion would date, but never anything steady. That is not to say that I was still a virgin because I'm not as a result of fooling around with a guy one summer after my junior year in high school and then once as a graduate student. In short, I thought I knew what sex felt like, but it left me feeling sort of empty and, as a consequence, I never had a real urge to want to engage in more such activities... at least until now.
As the holidays approached many of the engineering students started doing some of the initial research that would lead to their senior projects, a requirement for graduation. One particular student, Stan, stood out in my mind because while he still had that certain engineering nerdiness to him, he seemed to have a better physique and was sort of handsome albeit with more than just a touch of social naiveté. When the spring semester started, Stan was in the library several times a week and always looking for some obscure reference sources that he could use for his project. He really challenged me on a frequent basis but was always very polite ant thankful that I could find him find what he wanted.
It's only fair for me to explain that fashionable clothing was never one of my interests and that many days I would wear a rather shapeless black wool skirt and an olive-green turtleneck sweater accompanied by a pair of black flat shoes that I had had since my early undergraduate days back in Wisconsin. I always wore a minimum of makeup, and my hair was usually worn up, primarily because that style required a minimum of maintenance. Added to the vision of perhaps my own nerdiness was my oversize round tortoise frame glasses. While none of this is hardly stylish, it all required very little thought each morning as I got ready for work. Overall, I had pretty much of an average physique being 5' 6" tall of average weight and size 34C boobs, a feature that I never attempted to emphasize although I guess I did know that I at least appeared to be a female.
During mid-January Stan began to spend a lot of time in the library and was always looking for various academic journal articles and was having a problem with a particular one from The Netherlands. After considerable digging I managed to find not the specific article but a companion one by the same author. As a result, he thanked me profusely and I responded with a smile saying, "That's OK, that's what I am here for. I'm only too glad to help."
Stan was very serious about his work to the extent that he even selected a study carrel in the far reaches of my floor that would assure that he could remain focused and that nobody would bother him. However, he did have a window where he could look out on campus, but to my knowledge he seldom availed himself of this.
One day I had to go back into the stacks and stopped by to see if he had located an item that he previously been looking for.
"Hi Stan, did you find that van Dorn article that I had showed you?"
"I did," he replied. "It had even more useful stuff than I ever imagined it would. I can't thank you enough."
"No, the pleasure was all mine," I replied, later thinking that it sounded a bit flirtatious. He was buried in his work, and I had my hands full with other engineering students looking for reference sources and as a consequence I had no other interactions with Stan until the following week.
On Tuesday morning I heard someone approach my desk and when I looked up, there stood Stan. "Did you have a chance to check on those other sources for me?" he asked in an all-too businesslike tone of voice.
Knowing that I had worked on it the previous day I got up and started thumbing through the huge stack of requests. That day I had worn my usual skirt but had washed out my favorite green sweater and was wearing a pink cowl neck one instead. As I thumbed my way through that stack of printouts, I was getting a bit flustered because I could not find Stan's. I looked up and that is when I caught a glimpse of him looking down the neck of my sweater getting an unobstructed view of my boobs.
I just smiled and gave him a look that said "Ah ha, caught you looking, didn't I? Hope you enjoyed the view." As for me I guess I sort of found it to be a bit flattering that I guy was sufficiently interested to want to check me out.
Stan, knowing that the was caught, averted his eyes and blushed in the cutest way. What I did not say was, "Thank you. I am glad that you appreciate things like that." But that was the start of my attraction to Stan, which in short order became a bit of an obsession. Thereafter I would watch the elevators to my floor between 8:00 and 8:30 knowing that he was early to arrive. At first it was just seeing him and the grew to exchanging greetings. I found that it gave me a strange sense of warmth in my panties, but it just didn't end there. At home in the evening while reading I began rubbing my clit and upon getting moist would enjoy fingering myself. In short, I could not keep the though of him out of my mind and soon was simply lusting for the attention of this seemingly nerdy guy wondering what it would be like to even go as far as to have sex with him.
As the days passed, I kept hoping to find more opportunities to have encounters with Stan because those provided by him were too few and far between. There were times when I would take a couple of books and purposely walk past his carrel on the way back to the stacks ostensibly appearing that I needed to return those items to their appropriate place on the shelves.
It being the middle of winter in upstate New York there is always a good likelihood of snow. We got hit with an unexpected wet snowstorm one Wednesday night and into Thursday morning. The roads were a slushy mess, and I had no choice but to wear an oversized hooded parka and the pair of tall camo rubber boots that I got for when working on my dad's farm back in Wisconsin and used all four undergraduate years. Let's just put it this way, a sexy look it was not, but it did keep me toasty warm and my feet dry. That morning I got off the bus at campus and as I plodded my way through the slushy mess towards the library, I saw a figure in the distance and my heart jumped. Oh, no. It was Stan! Moreover, I was dressed like a farm girl and as it turned out he and I would get to the library entrance at exactly the same moment. How embarrassing!
We said our perfunctory greetings and entered the building where I dashed off to my desk to at least shed the parka and change into a pair of normal shoes. Still, while it was an encounter, it was not the kind that I had been hoping for.
As my fantasizing continued, I found myself having thoughts that were increasingly risqué. One that I almost carried through with was deciding to go commando at work, but at the last minute I chickened out and instead decided to wear some sexy lace panties that I had so far kept unused in the back of my lingerie drawer.
Little by little, and perhaps even almost unknowingly, I had started to change my appearance. It began with perhaps using a little bit more makeup and when I say little, I mean not very much at all. I mentioned earlier that there were times when I would play with myself thinking about the things that maybe, just maybe, Stan would want to do with me. As this obsession went on, I found myself one morning in the shower and after shaving my underarms and legs said, "What the hell," and proceeded to shave my pubes. At first it felt strange being smooth down there, but as that first day wore on, I decided that I liked it. None of these were either thoughts or things that I ever would have done before. There were times when I had to ask, "What in heavens has come over me?"
Later that week I had again walked past Stan's carrel and mentioned that there were some obscure books that might help him with his senior project. It wasn't true, but clearly a ruse to get him back in the stacks alone--I had no idea what we would then do but was willing to let things take their course. In the far reaches of the floor I mentioned that there were a couple of potentially useful books on the top shelf and proceeded to move the ladder over so that I could access them. I had taken to wearing shorter skirts than previously, although not anything anyone would ever think of as slutty, but still above the knee. While I was up on the ladder Stan was afforded a great upskirt view and I attempted make a far reach, but lost my balance, managed to fall off the ladder, and on top of Stan. Fortunately, he broke the fall but there I was on my back with my skirt now hiked up to waist level and giving him a great view of my panties. It was embarrassing and I thanked him for saving me from injury.
A few days later I tried the ruse again but assuredly wasn't going to use the ladder. We returned to the remote stacks and being a bit more aggressive I hiked up my skirt showing Stan my panties saying, "I thought that you'd want to have a better look than the one you got the other day." He was totally flustered and worried that we'd be seen.
