This story was originally posted on another Literotica account. i am consolidating all of my stories to this account.
My feet quietly press against the raised gray circles of the outdated institutional tile as I methodically climb the stairs and arrive at the sixth floor. The bottom three floors of the university's library currently house a smattering of students that are studying and socializing before heading back to their dorm rooms to study and socialize more. The lack of seating and the building's unconventional architectural layout combine to leave the library's sixth floor nearly vacant after sunset, though. Few students or facility members venture up the first three flights of stairs, down the long overly-lit corridor, and then up three more floors to reach the small annex that mostly houses under-read literary classics and fine arts memoirs.
I check my phone and notice that the hour is quickly approaching eleven and mentally note that I will most likely have the entire wing to myself. Besides the students on the first three floors, a smattering of people will seek the silent anonymity of one of the building's three subterranean levels. The negative floors, as the three sub-floors are euphemistically known on campus, infamously serve as the setting for many of the university's erotic acts. Young men and women, either in search of the thrill of public sex or without another locale to satiate their desires, quietly travel to the negative floors' hidden corners and vacant stacks.
Rumor has it that the library's management has attempted to curtail sexual activity on the negative floors multiple times but each campaign has been met with quiet but strong resistance from several powerful donors, each of whom vividly remember their sexual subterranean initiations and do not wish to deny the current crop of students these future carnal memories.
Although rarely spoken of in polite company, the majority of the members of the campus community have a special memory of a sexual coupling on one of the negative floors (and, apparently, often on one of the negative floors' floors.) These stories are seldom told, but I imagine that few alumni return to campus on homecoming week without at least briefly thinking of a negative floor encounter.
The bespectacled and balding businessman who vividly remembers watching the sweet-faced-coed drop to her knees and eagerly take his engorged cock into her willing young mouth. The respectable housewife and mother who cannot help but recall the powerful feeling of the football player's tongue licking her pussy and expertly flicking against her excited clit. The ordinary married couple that silently acknowledge the collegiate days when they hungrily explored each other's bodies and began to form the boundaries of the people that they would eventually become.
As I pause at the top of the sixth floor stairs I remember my own negative floor encounter. Three years ago, I was a second year Ph.D. student and a teaching assistant instructor for a freshman level U.S. history class. I had arranged to hold several class sessions in the library in order to give the students a brief tour and introduce them to the joys of academic research. (One would be surprised how many students don't even know where the library located.) The librarian assigned to assist me was a beautiful and vivacious young woman with whom I incessantly flirted after the end of each class.
Over the course of several weeks I fought to appear professional while battling my increasingly strong desires. While my librarian helper was assisting my students I often snuck a quick peek at her dark coffee colored skin and her round ass and large breasts. Several times she caught me looking down her shirt or staring too long into her brown eyes, but she never admonished me or even acknowledged that my behavior had been discovered. Her failure to reprimand me only served to embolden my efforts and, although I attempted to remain stealth during class sessions, I became more aggressive when alone with her later. I would stay late to help her clean up and would discuss her personal life while walking her back to her office and sometimes her car. Our conversation topics would often turn to the sexual and I learned much about her wants and desires.
Under her quiet conservative librarian exterior laid a smoldering pool of desire. Her boyfriend had not been fulfilling her emotionally or sexually of late and her needs were beginning to overpower her. My girlfriend, at the time, knew nothing of my ever-growing infatuation and my thoughts were increasingly filled with fantasies about the desirous ebony librarian.
More and more often when I masturbated or fucked my girlfriend I thought of the librarian's dark skin and dark eyes. I regularly came while thinking of grabbing her long thick hair and roughly fucking her from behind. She and I increasingly inter-mixed the literary and the sexual into an academic courtship ritual that primed our minds and libidos and created an intoxicating bouillabaisse of the divine and profane. Both of us knew that we would eventually consummate our union but the tempting and teasing was too exciting to hastily end.
The sexual tension steadily built over the course of several weeks and our heightened desires proved too enthralling to quickly fulfill. My need for her propelled me through numerous days and my desires became increasingly base and animalistic. The intensity of my cravings reached levels that began to frighten even me a little. These were boundaries that I had never tested and limitations that I had never approached.
Finally, we were both so thoroughly pumped and primed that it threatened to damage our psyches if we did not act. So act I did, after class I took her to the graduate student carrel that I had rented early that day. The small isolated room was located on negative level two and she undoubtedly knew that I didn't really want her to see the copy of Inferno that I had left on the desk. Thus, she was not surprised when as soon as the door shut and locked I roughly pressed her against the barren wall and kissed her. As my hands caressed her face and my tongue explored her mouth the moment overcame me.
