A Sultry Study Brea

Aisha slumped down in her chair, wracked with frustration and the side-effects of an oncoming coffee crash. It was enough that she'd forgoed partying with her friends—decided to take the time to cram in some extra studying for the organic chemistry exam tomorrow—but now she was coming up against a wall. And it was a wall three hours in the making, three hours of mnemonic devices and flash-cards.

The equations and formulations seemed to swim on the page like inky minnows, and her thoughts were cloudy, unfocused. Nothing sunk into her memory as it should. She had been at it too long, that must be it. She had studied herself into a confused, nervous state.

Nothing could be gained by pressing forward as she was then. What would really be helpful would be to take a break and let her unconscious shift through the litany of information she had just absorbed.

Just a little break to get herself back into it, get her wires uncrossed. Perhaps... work off some tension.

Aisha snapped awake. Where did that come from? she thought, rubbing her eyes to refocus. 'That' was a flash of an idea, an impulse which rose suddenly to her mind, of something she had always wanted to do, but never mustered the courage to put into action. Blinking, Aisha rose slowly from her chair. There were no windows in that area of the library, yet Aisha could tell it was dark by the dull numbers showing on her watch.

At such a late hour she should practically have the library to herself, especially the little alcove where she had set up. And as she poked her head around the monolithic stacks of books, this suspicion was confirmed when Aisha saw no one in the adjacent study areas, heard no movements.

The library was silent as a mausoleum. The janitors didn't work that late, nor did the librarians roam that far into the rows at such an hour; no one would see her if she acted on that fading impulse. No one would be there to hear her sweet cries.

Nevertheless, Aisha checked again; peered her head into the empty space between stacks of books, paced a few feet this way, then a few feet the other. Once she confirmed how truly alone she was, Aisha ambled back to her chair. By then her heartbeat had steadily quickened, to the point that it was now a heightened thumping in her chest. The fantasy more and more turning to reality, a building excitement granted Aisha elevated awareness. She could smell the heady aroma of old paper, completely take it in. Her own breathing filled her ears.

Tentatively, almost without noticing that she was doing it, Aisha moved her hand between her thighs. If her friends were having fun on the town without her, then she owed herself this little indulgence, risky though it may be.

Over her shorts, Aisha worked her fingers against her sex, slickness starting to dampen her panties. They'd need a good wash later, but that was an issue to be handled in the future. She felt exposed in the wide open space. Even with no one there, her masturbation took on a thrilling sense of exhibitionism. Aisha slid her shorts off along with her simple, cotton panties, a thin trail of her clear juices briefly connecting from the fabric to her warming pussy.

She was entirely naked from the waist down now. If anyone chanced upon her, there would be no misgivings about what was going on. The idea only excited her more. Aisha stuck two fingers in her mouth and covered them in her saliva, flitting her tongue over the digits as if they were those of lover. Thoroughly covered in spit, Aisha brought her fingers back to her eager mound, rubbing her wing-like labia with gentle urgency. Fire burned in her blood as she pleasured herself, fingers as graceful as a pianist's.

Aish sunk into the desperate passion, forgetting her abandoned coursework, and a new image blossomed in her head. Toned muscles on a tall body. Dark hair in beautiful locks. Hazel eyes that subsumed all set before them. Sam, her on-again, off-again boyfriend, currently in the latter of those two states, came to the forefront of Aisha's fantasy as she gave her pussy some much needed attention in the library. She recalled their previous trysts and sunk the two fingers into her entrance. Her walls quivered to the touch, lightning shooting in her nerves while she curled up the penetrating fingers.

Aisha imagined it was Sam's cock inside her instead of her own body, his thick member rubbing against her folds. And, since it wasn't really his cock, she could imagine it without a condom as well; she could almost feel bare manhood pulsing in her with every thrust. Aisha bit at her other unoccupied hand, vainly trying to restain a throaty moan from escaping. But it was pointless—she had given herself over fully to pleasure. If she hadn't been found out yet, Aisha figured, she probably never would be. She pushed up her t-shirt and deftly unhooked her bra. The other hand, now with faint teeth marks in it, got put to good use rubbing an erect nipple.

The smell of old books was replaced with Aisha's own musk. In her mind she was straddling Sam, shaking her hips on his member. Her moans echoed in the air, were rebounded by the dusty tomes surrounding her. Sweat stuck her skin to the chair, and still she worked herself.

Her eyes had been closed for minutes. The living world was as good as dead to Aisha. It was as if she had been transported to her dingy apartment where she had had spent so many sleepless nights with Sam.

He could be a poor partner at times, but God was Sam a good fuck. He had so much endurance—enough to match Aisha's demanding appetite. There were times when they had taken up whole days in a fit of ecstasy, days where they must've worked through the entire Kama Sutra with how much they switched it up.

Aisha would coil around his manhood as he thrusted from below with impeccable rhythm. Then, when they had used up a few condoms, alternate positions with Aisha in the missionary, running her nails against his back, hot breath exhaled from lips curled in satisfaction. His mouth on hers, tongues intertwined like that was the way they had always meant to be.

The slight bent of his cock that made her go wild. His solid chest, perfect to rest your head on. In the realm of sex, Sam was unparalleled among all of Aisha's lovers. He could go for hours—more if he drank enough water beforehand. There was even a memorable experience involving an eight-inch strap-on.

And he knew her body so well.

The way Sam used his tongue on her clit was divine.

In response to those spiraling thoughts, Aisha's other hand moved from her sensitive nipples and to that throbbing bundle of nerves, the crown of pleasure. A single touch was enough to make Aisha arch her back and practically roll her eyes into her skull.

She made a circular motion around her clit, eliciting waves of shuddering, mind-bending arousal. Aisha could feel every pore of her skin against the comparatively cool air. The libarary's A/C hummed from a grate above her, sending fresh oxygen to mix with that thick with her scent. Aisha's index and middle fingers pumped in a frenzy.

It had been too long since Aisha felt such overwhelming pleasure. The vibrator was good. Reliable. Yet it provided little for the imagination. There weren't many sexual situations which involved that particular sensation—at least, none that didn't also specifically include a vibrator. So she had settled with the whirring motor because it worked.

But Aisha desired more. She had longed for something to turn her pulse into a rapid pace like that of the vibrator, something that got her mind off just as it did her body. Life, in all its twists and wild turns, still contained little excitement for Aisha. Maybe she should've turned to tantric sex or candle-play first, but the facts were that she had not. Aisha had first turned to masturbating in her college library, and she was absolutely loving it. To think all she needed to do was feed her exhibtionist leaning—in a relatively safe way.

Even in the throes of it, Aisha had no plans to recreate this exercise in eroticism. One library masturbation session was enough for a lifetime, even a particularly long one. So she would enjoy this one lapse in all its sultry and risky wonder. Aisha would give herself a climax like she had never experienced before, with or without Sam.

Bucking into her own hand, mercilessly rubbing her clit, she ascended to embody two spaces, one in the labyrinth of the mind—where Sam was pounding into her from behind—the other in the physical world where she writhed against a comfy chair, open to be seen by anyone should they happen upon her. All of this stimulation brought Aisha upon the precipice of orgasm. And she could feel it was going to be a big one.

Her muscles tensed, as did her vaginal walls. Aisha's climax was building, building, ready to break free and rock her to her very core. Her moans had turned more guttural as she increased pace, preparing for the release. Simply put, an orgasm was coming that would leave an indelible mark in her memory, an orgasm with power like a split atom. But hopefully without any fallout.

In her imagination, Aisha was back to the cowgirl, grinding on Sam, her hands on his pecs and staring into those depthless hazel eyes. His orgasm approached to compliment her own. Their moans harmonized. Soon he would shoot all his come into her waiting vagina, drain everything in his balls for her.

Aisha was so preoccupied with this image that she almost didn't notice the sound of shoes hitting tile. It wasn't an illusion or some strange intrusion in her fantasy, the noise was coming from within the library. Footsteps, not close, but coming closer by the sound of them. Aisha opened her eyes in a split second and turned to face the hallway leading away from the chair.

She couldn't see anyone. And, by the structure of the library, that meant no one could see her. However, it still meant she had to stop. Had to—scratch that—should stop. Aisha's orgasm was a runaway train, and the revelation had only thrown more coal into its furnace. It was just to hot, the idea that a person would see her naked and in the throes of masturabation. What would they think of her? Would they be disgusted? Or terribly turned on?

No matter what was going to happen, she was going to come, and come hard. Plus, there was hardly time to get her clothes back on.

Aisha brought the other hand to mouth again, bit her finger to stifle the guttural moans coming from her mouth; fear kept them just low to not give her away. She kept rubbing her walls, alert for anyone who could emerge, listening to the dull thump of rubber soles.

Her orgasm was a hair's breadth away, then, to prove miracles do occur, the footsteps sounded like they were going the other way. Someone must've found the book they were looking for.

Good for them. And good for herself, because she could feel the first wave of a tsunami of an orgasm, crashing against her over and over. The tension of the situation was enough to put her over the edge, and what an edge it was. Aisha's sex convulsed with a force almost supernatural. Aisha was orgasm in her mind as well, with Sams cock shooting every last drop of semen out and into her vagina.

It was otherworldly, that orgasm—so great that Aisha squirted for only the second time in her life. The single spurt of clear liquid came out in a arc and dribbled onto the table in front of her.

Aish slumped into the chair, now completely spent. Her muscle were horribly sore and her breath was ragged. Slowly, in a logy motion, Aisha pulled her panties on, then her shorts. She took in lungfuls of cool air that the A/C was pumping in, trying to get herself back to a normal state of arousal. After some moments, she was back to near-lucidity, and cracked her neck to bring her further focus. In front of her, Aisha's study material were damp with squirt. Small chance they would be used again. She sighed heavily and let the rest of her strength return to her after the mammoth orgasm.

Passingly, she thought it might be nice to text Sam sometime soon, have a quick rendezvous. No intention of getting back together, just have another taste of him.

Finally recovered, aftershocks gone, Aisha collected her stuff and shakily walked to the exited, dumping the damp flash-cards in the trash as she did. She needed a good sleep after all that excitement, and she expected to get it.

As it so happened, Aisha got a 96 percent on that chemistry exam the following day.