Liz worked at the Norwood Public Library. I did not know if she was a librarian or a paraprofessional. I had seen her at the checkout desk as well as shelving books and cleaning the desks and computer monitors. I figured she might be about 25 with long brown hair, about five foot three inches tall (1.6 meters for those living outside the U.S. or Liberia), and bespectacled. She wore little make up but I knew she wore a light perfume, may be musk or cedar or a mix of both?
On this particular Tuesday, I did my usual routine of visiting the library to check out the latest books and may be read the newspaper a bit. I noticed that Liz was not behind the front desk. I first searched the computer catalog for an old issue of Science Today and sure enough it was shelved in the archives in the second floor. You have to realize that those were the old days when some of the back volumes of journals and magazines used to be bound and physically archived away although some others were available in microfilm or microfiche format. So I took the stairs to the second floor and proceeded toward the location of the archived journals. This is an area seldom visited by anyone in the library. As usual, the floor was deserted. The clock on the wall chimed eleven. The fog was lifting outside and the sun began to peek from behind the murk.
I went past two aisles of back volumes to the location indicated in the electronic catalog. The archive area had several rows of books on very tall shelves and you needed a ladder to get to some of the top stacks. As I rounded the corner, I almost bumped into a ladder that was parked in the middle between two aisles. I braked hard to stop me from colliding with the ladder. As I looked up, I noticed that Liz was standing on the top rung of the ladder, trying to push a bound volume into an already overstocked top row. She wore a short green skirt and a matching blouse that accentuated her breasts. But more importantly, from my vantage point, I could stare straight at her crotch which was pantiless. I gasped as I admired the view in all its glory. Her snatch was covered with brown hair, unkempt, quite long and probably never trimmed.
"Oh, wow," I thought, "Now, what?"
At this particular juncture, Liz must have sensed my presence. In her attempt to put away the book in its right place and get off the ladder quickly, she slipped off the ladder. As she was falling, I moved closer to the ladder to break her fall and save her from any injuries. As I was positioned right beneath the ladder, she landed directly below and as she did so, her crotch ended up resting close to my face. I steadied her from falling over by balancing her torso on my shoulders. Realize that my head was still inside her short skirt. She balanced herself by holding on the rungs of the ladder while she more or less sat on my shoulders with my nose in close contact with her bush. Surprisingly, she did not cry for help or yelp but seemed content that her fall was broken and that she was safe. I tried to ask her if she was okay but no words came out my mouth. I could smell her pussy which was less than half an inch from my nose. Suddenly, my head felt as though it was in a rain forest with mist dancing around. The stale, musky odor emanating from her pussy scented the immediate surrounding and I was getting dizzy as in drunk. It was getting steamy and I began to perspire. I put my tongue out and reach for her clit. My body shuddered as I tasted the saltiness, probably a mixture of perspiration, cunt juice and residual odor from when she might have peed last. I savored the taste to my delight. I was still holding her up with my arms and continuing this licking maneuver. Surprisingly, she was quiet and did not protest even though she had no idea who was devouring her pussy.
She shifted her position a bit, so now her asshole was sitting close to my nose. This sent an electric shock down my spine. I could smell her slightly sweaty ass hole. I am sure she worked up a little bit of sweat with her manual labor. This was glorious as I once again felt giddy from her odorous asshole. By odorous, I don't mean nasty or bad. The asshole itself looked clean and there were no telltale signs of tissue paper residues or any other warnings. From my ring seat vantage point, I admired her asshole, nice, round, a little puckered, inviting and brown, but slightly on the rosy side. I could see the radial pattern of striations emanating from the circumference of her rim to the center and vanishing into mysterious and unknown territory. I moved my nose up and down her asshole, enjoying the smooth structure of her rim and the contours of the striations. Meanwhile, my cock was getting hard and I could sense my "pilot" juice starting to flow. I stuck my tongue out and began to lick her asshole. Since I did not have access to my fingers, my only manipulation of her and her goodies was though my nose or tongue. Her asshole tasted a little salty and slightly of walnut. Now, I did not expect this next thing to happen. Due to nervousness or fear, I don't which; she let out a small fart. I heard a high pitch noise and that's how I knew.
She quickly said, "Excuse me," the first words she had ever spoken. I was expecting the worst, thinking that the rain forest tent of her skirt I had taken refuge in was going to turn into a stinky swamp. But surprisingly, her dainty fart was all bark and no bite, so to say. There was no odor. She might have evacuated earlier and/or not eaten anything that gassy. Anyway, after a minute or two, I licked her assshole again. This time, it tasted slightly of sulfur. I figured that the residue from fart probably resulted in this new flavor, which I did not mind. Having studied chemistry well, I realized that she must have had eaten some garlic or onion or eggs, probably eggs. I continued licking her asshole. Despite the embarrassing moment with the farting, she seemed to enjoy my devotion to her rear end. Maybe she never had her ass licked the way I was doing right now because she started moaning and breathing heavily. I moved her hips back and forth by gyrating my shoulders so that I could lick in one continuous sweep from her asshole all the way to her pussy in the front. I enjoyed this as my tongue and nose traversed a variety of textures, contours, tastes and smells. I now realized that the saltiness of her cunt juice was gone and was replaced with something sweeter tasting. Her clit seemed to twitch as my tongue made contact every time. Her bush still encapsulated the thick micro-rain forest environment. As I moved her hips faster and faster, she seemed to enjoy it even more. I could tell because she was moaning louder and louder, not really concerned if the librarian or anyone else came by or heard her. She finally seemed to climax as her body went into convulsions and I could sense liquid draining from her cunt onto my face. My face was covered mostly with her cunt juice, a low viscosity, and colorless liquid, tasting slightly sweet, slightly sour, slightly metallic and slightly salty. My head was beginning to roll and I was feeling victorious, having fucked Liz with my nose and tongue and making her cum on the second floor of the Norwood Public Library. I lifted her off my face and put her on the carpet where she was now standing. Some liquid was still dripping off her cunt on to the carpet. This was the first time she had a chance to look at me. She smiled and said, "Thanks. You are a good mouth-fucker. And thanks for saving me from falling."
At that time, a voice came over the intercom, "Liz to the front desk, please."
Liz said, "I got to go. That's Mrs. Henderson, the librarian. I am Liz. What's your name?"
"Harry," I said. She looked at her watch. "I am on lunch break at noon for an hour. Meet me outside the library, Harry."
I took my handkerchief and wiped her dripping pussy as well as my own face. She placed the ladder in a corner and proceeded toward the stair case.
I found the issue I was looking for, went downstairs and checked it out. Liz was not at the counter, so I figured Mrs. Henderson had given her an assignment. I walked out of the library. My watch showed 11:50. I sat under the shade of a large tree and started reading the issue I had checked out. Somewhere in the distance, a church bell announced it was noon. A few minutes later, Liz came out, carrying her purse. She had a light sweater on.
"Hi, Harry!" she said, "You know nothing like this ever happened to me. You must think that I am a slut, but I am not."
"I understand. I am not judging you," I said. "But do you always go to work without wearing underwear?"
"No-no-no-no! Never! I had not done my laundry and I figured better no panties than a dirty, stained one," she justified.
"So you did not mind that I made you cum?" I asked.
Liz replied, "That was pleasant. I haven't had that in a long time, may be months. I never had my asshole licked either, the way you did. You must be an artist?"
I said, "Of sorts. I am driven by smells, textures and tastes. People ought to pay more attention to their senses. There is a universe out there yet to be discovered."
Liz said, "Oh? Like what?"
I replied, "You'll see. I don't know what you are doing this afternoon. I can tell you more."
Liz said, "I have to be back at the library at one. I am a low level paraprofessional working 24 hours a week. I was heading to my apartment for a quick lunch."
I said, "I will walk with you, if you don't mind."
Liz said, "That would be nice. I live just five minutes away."
We reached her apartment shortly. She unlocked the door and let me in as well. "Amy, are you home?" Liz shouted.
"I am here in the bath room," came a young, female voice.
"Oh, that is Amy, my house mate. She is a junior at the community college."
Liz set her purse on the kitchen counter and took off her sweater. As she bent down to pull a chair, I could see her cleavage and tops of soft, plump, milky white breasts. "Want some lunch?" Liz offered.
I said, "What do you have?"
