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.
