Student in a Library Corner

Teresa blinked at the book in front of her and tried not to yawn. The words wouldn't flow from the page tonight and she was fighting just to keep her eyes open. But it was no good; she still had another hundred pages to go before she could even think of quitting for tonight. The other students had mostly gone home for the evening, leaving her sat in her corner chasing her work. The library was quiet and nearly empty; just the way she liked it. The sounds of hundreds of people concentrating hard on their work were maddening when you were trying to study as well. She glanced at the clock and sighed. Still almost forty minutes before the library closed; she had better make the most of it. Flicking her hair out of her eyes she turned back to the page on the book in front of her.

The words in front of her still refused to come together and make sense. She put the book down and stretched, clicking her tongue in irritation with herself. She really needed to concentrate and get this done tonight. There was another mid-term paper due tomorrow and a presentation on Friday and her schedule couldn't take any more extensions even if Professor Bryant granted them, which he didn't. She just needed to relax and get this done. Teresa stood up and walked past the shelves to the fountain. She needed a few minutes break and a sip of water to clear her mind, and then she could finish her notes and go home. Teresa walked past several tables with people sat staring at the walls and hid a smile. At least she wasn't the only one here this evening pulling a late night. She crouched at the fountain and took a few sips of water before ducking into the girls' toilets and taking a critical look at herself in the mirror.

When she got back to her seat Teresa looked down and frowned. Something was different about her desk. Then she saw it; there was a small plain white card sitting on top of her book. Pursing her lips Teresa reached down and picked it up. Neatly written in plain black print was a short message:

If You Need to Relax Tap Your Heels.

Who would leave such a random card on someone's desk like that she wondered? She looked around but there seemed to be no-else about. She wondered if someone was watching her, and almost got up to leave. Then the image of Professor Bryant's angry expression floated through her mind, and she sat back down.

Instead, she tore the card in two and threw it back on the desk. There. If anyone was staring at her that ought to give them plenty to think about. She picked up her book and glared at it in furious concentration. Mid-terms always made her anxious, and she caught herself tapping her foot, a bad nervous habit. Teresa stopped herself with a snort and leafed through another page. The light behind her flickered slightly, as if someone had briefly passed in front of it. Teresa frowned and looked up around her; the library around her seemed to be darkening slowly. Colours were fading out into blackness. Apart from her desk it was as if everything around her were falling into shadow; the outlines were there but the objects themselves could no longer quite be made out.

I'm dreaming, she realised, and relaxed. Obviously she'd fallen asleep at her desk and was now having some kind of library-induced hallucination from overwork. It seemed to her to be a very lucid kind of dream. She could still feel the book in her hands, and set it down on the desk. There was a small 'whisk' sound and she was not at all surprised, when she looked down, to see that something had landed onto her lap from under the table; it was another white card.

Please Take Off Your Shoes.

Teresa considered carefully if she should look up under the desk in her dream, but the dark beneath it seemed to be thicker than treacle. Even so, she almost jumped up in shock when a finger pointedly taped her left foot. Feeling a bit silly, she reached down and tugged off her heels, giving a little sigh of relief and wiggling her cramped toes. Immediately she felt two hands grasp her foot and lift it gently off the ground. Fingers closed around it and Teresa smiled and leaned back, closing her eyes to enjoy the gentle relief as two strong thumbs began working their way up her foot from heel to toe. She felt one hand go down to clasp her heel and then a knuckle was grinding its way around in slow circles. Her mysterious dream-masseur moved her foot about, first turning it in circles and then pulling it straight.

The hands lowered her foot down and switched to the other one. Teresa slowly stretched her legs out further and relaxed into their firm grip. Usually she was too tense to really enjoy a foot massage but right now with her hectic workload it felt like just what she needed to unwind. The hands holding her foot were warm and strong and the thumbs working their way around her heel were light but not ticklish. She gave a little groan as they bent and twisted her foot back and forth, releasing the ache of a day in tight heels. Her reverie was interrupted as a hand lifted her feet up together and moved something metallic under the table. There was a gentle sloshing sound and she felt the sensation of warm water close around her ankles as the hands released her from their grasp. Luckily she was wearing a skirt today, a sensible black knee-length one that still left her free to enjoy this dream-dipping.

Sooner then she would have liked, her feet were lifted up and the bowl scraped away. The hands returned and they seemed to have brought a towel with them. Her feet were dried vigorously with it and set down slightly apart. Teresa began to feel a faint flush under her skin and suppressed a shiver. She felt the hands come again and this time they were slick with a faint aroma of oil. Their fingers slid slowly up a leg, from ankle to calf, before sliding back again, squeezing and rubbing as they went. Teresa sat upright; the skin on her legs felt hot now, and a little sensitive to touch as the hands began to slowly work their way back up her leg. She felt the long fingers gently caressing her now, not hard and firm as before, but slippery and smoothly as they travelled back up her calf and pulled her knee over to one side of her chair. The hands moved her to other leg and began to tease their way along it. She felt her other leg moved sideways and the hands came to rest at the hem of her skirt and paused, as if waiting for something.

Teresa realised she was breathing faster; slowly she moved herself further under the table, spreading her legs wider as she did so, until she was sat on the edge of her seat facing whoever was under her table. The hem of her skirt was raised and a finger reached under it to stroke at the front of her underwear. She was wearing a thin white thong and the warmth of the hand toying with it sent a sudden pulse of heat going between her legs. She gave a shivery gasp and lent lower over the desk as the finger was joined by another and began to glide in small circles around her lips, teasing her through the cotton until she began to grow damp. As she crouched over her desk Teresa began to give a small cries and squeaks as they pressed against her entrance more strongly, rubbing up and down the length of her lips through the cloth. She reached down under the desk and tugged up her skirt, opening her legs to the fingers more invitingly. The second hand hooked its fingers around her thong, pulling it to one side and letting the other roam as it pleased. Teresa began to throb as unseen fingers caressed her lips, stroking them softly between finger and thumb. A finger moved up and circled deftly around her clit, before it was joined by a second and they both began flicking softly across her. The feeling made her buck in her seat, grinding herself up against them as she struggled for something to thrust back against.

She leant back in the chair and pushed herself up with her arms, wiggling impatiently. The hands stopped what they were doing to her and tugged down her thong. The cloth slid down to her ankle and she kicked it away impatiently. She sank back down on the seat edge and shuddered as a finger pushed slightly inside her. It felt too hard and she made a small noise of protest at the back of her throat. It slipped out and Teresa felt a warm mouth take its place. A tongue licked at her clit, sending little bursts of pleasure tingling up and out of her mouth. The tongue went lower and she felt it enter her, darting inside, making her slicker. A hand returned to explore between her legs, carefully sliding one finger into her, then two. This time she tightened herself around them and began to move in a grinding rhythm. The anonymous mouth returned to her clit; lips sucked and blew on it gently, and she began to feel herself tense as the rippling inside her built up in a slow long wave. As she peaked and crested, she clamped her legs together and pulled hard against the head between her legs. Teresa leaned back in her chair and pushed her face hard into the shoulder of her blouse as she came in a long quiet moan.

She rested a minute on the desk as little bursts of feeling pulsed from her clit and lips. The hands withdrew and slipped quietly away. When she looked up from her seat again the library was as it had been. The colours had bled back into the world and she was still sitting by her desk with her books abandoned in front of her. Teresa let out a shuddering sigh and rubbed at her eyes; it had been a long time since she'd had a dream that intense. She was still throbbing from the strength of her climax. A look at the library clock told her that she had been out for only ten minutes or so. She glanced down as something caught her eye and froze. Still sitting in a small crumpled heap on the floor by the desk were her discarded white panties.