Single, middle-aged and bespectacled Angelina Lione may look the part of the prim, proper and sexually repressed, buttoned-up librarian, but she's most definitely NOT your father's librarian - at least not in private. Blessed with a ravenous and unquenchable sexual appetite, Angelina navigates the Dewey Decimal System as deftly as she negotiates about her lovers' hearts, minds and bodies. Her orgasms, in fact, are so intense that she oftentimes faints during the throes of passion.
High fashion and high maintenance, Angelina always models the latest designer threads - accentuated by one of her dozen pairs of high-heeled dress boots. Her sophisticated look even extends to smoking accessories. The haughty diva wouldn't dream of smoking a cigarette if it wasn't filtered through her long, black holder. More of a cigarette holder sucker and stroker than a smoker, however, Angelina seductively works the black shaft with her mouth, tongue and fingers as if it was a penis proxy; the effect that playing with the long, stiff holder has on would-be lovers is like snake charming. Under the sexy siren's magic spell, they're entirely at her mercy; powerless to resist the temptation to pleasure her - as if they really would.
Romantic suitor Tom Bailey has been in love with Angelina since he was a 13-year-old student of hers, drawn to the librarian's sexy boots and seductive smoking. Over the past 9 years, his feelings - like his fetishes - for the femme fatale have only grown stronger. But in order to win Angelina's hand, he'll have to fight off the advances of Harry Seymour, his former principal, and the man who she once carried on a torrid affair with.
It's youth, vitality and inexperience vs. age, knowledge and history. At stake is the love and lust of the feral Angelina, a woman whose libido knows no bounds.
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The message on Tom and his roommates' answering machine was brief and to the point:
"Thomas, darling, if you're free around noon, why don't you drop by my house."
For the lovestruck young man, who'd been awake most of the night worrying about how his girlfriend's dinner date with her former flame was going - and who'd been out for a walk in a futile attempt to burn off his nervous energy when she called at 9:00 a.m. the next morning - Angelina's short message, played back when he returned to the apartment some 90 minutes later, was just the news he wanted to hear.
After a hot shower and a quick bowl of cereal eaten over the kitchen sink, Tom climbed in his red 1982 Volkswagen Scirocco and motored northwest on the New Jersey Parkway toward Angelina's house. About 40 minutes later - at 11:58 a.m. - he pulled into his girlfriend's driveway and parked behind an old brown Cadillac.
So anxious was he to see Angelina, that as Tom walked briskly up the walkway to her house, he neglected to consider the possibility that the Caddie may belong to Harry, her former lover.
Ringing the doorbell, Tom felt as anxious and excited as he had two weeks prior when he summonded up the courage to show up at his old middle school and break the ice with Angelina, his grade school crush.
"Angelina, oh, man, it's good to see you!" Tom blurted out seconds later after his girlfriend opened the door, practically bear hugging the woman off the floor in excitement.
"Thomas, yes, it's good to see you, too," Angelina answered in a decidely more restrained tone.
"I just want to take you upstairs and make love to you for hours."
"Well, darling, that sounds delightful, but let's have a talk first, ok?"
Angelina slipped from her boyfriend's embrace and retreated to the living room.
"Yeah, sure, I want to hear all about last night," Tom said, as he followed her into the room. "I wish I'd seen Principal Seymour's face when you told him once and for all..."
Entering the living room, Tom saw Harry sitting on the sofa and froze in his tracks, unable to finish his sentence.
"I believe you two know each other," Angelina said, by way of an introduction.
