There's this pretty librarian at the town library who is always there, quiet and promising. Her name is Lillith Washington. She wears round spectacles that slip down her nose most of the time, and she never wears any other body adornments besides the chain that connects to the eye glasses, which hold them in place when she puts them around her neck. She's not so slim, but not fat. She's pleasantly curvy, and a little on the plump side. She has an hour glass figure, which she hides under a white blouse, a crème colored sweater which goes down past her hips and the curve of her behind, and always wears a long A-line willowy skirt, which touches her ankles. There wasn't a required uniform at the library, so I assume that she enjoyed what she wore.
One time at the library's Halloween Bash, she came dressed as a nurse, tight short skirt, tight collared top, with a nurse bonnet and a stethoscope. She shocked everyone there with her daring costume, since she's never shown up in anything other than a blouse, sweater and skirt. Lillith has reddish brown hair, which is wavy and goes down to her back. Some days, Lillith wears her hair in a simple braid that falls down her back, or in a bun at the nape of her neck. Any other day she'll hold it back with bobby pins and let it cascade down her back. She has dark blue eyes, almost the color of slate, and pale white skin, sprinkled with freckles. Her lips are a soft coral color, and her bottom lip is full and pouty.
I first noticed Ms. Washington when I moved to Tobacco Valley, a small town in Northern Connecticut. I'm an art curator, and I was hired at the town library, for its' new art museum, connecting to the library. As a man, it took a while to notice the unattractive face, the somewhat frumpy body, but when I did, I was in for a surprise.
"Excuse me, Miss�" I asked, what was her name? I had met her when I was hired, she was at every staff meeting and here nearly every day.
"Miss Washington," she said in her polite way, her voice squeaking up a pitch at the end of her surname. Her arms were full of books, and her glasses were teetering dangerously close to falling off her nose.
"Miss Washington," I amended, "I was wondering if you could help me with the copier? I'm afraid it's being temperamental again." Not a bad body, I thought, she could lose a few, be a knockout. I gazed up and down her figure, pausing at the blouse that was being tugged down by the books she carried. I could see a valley of cleavage, and the white lace of straining bra cups. Not a bad body at all.
"Oh," she said, eyes darting from side to side, she shifted the books slightly. "I have to bring these books down to the reference areaβ¦." She trailed off. "If you could, uh, wait a moment," she said skittishly. She seemed to have some trouble bringing the words together.
"Why don't I help you?" I asked with a smile, taking the books out of her arms and resting them under one of mine. She stood flustered and stuttering a moment before she nodded and walked ahead of me, heading towards the reference area. I walked behind her, watching her quick jerky pace, which made her behind jiggle nicely. I smiled, tilted my head a little and held back a whistle of approval. "It's such a small library," I began, "I hardly ever get to see you."
"Oh," she began. I rolled my eyes toward the heavens, here she goes. "I, uh, I'm always in my office, well unless, that is, I'm sorting books, or working the front desk. Saturdays," she mumbled on, "Saturdays I'm normally in the children's section, reading books." She rambled on her schedule and I was thankful when we reached the desk, I dropped the books with a snap onto the desk, starling her from her ramblings.
"You sound very busy," I said with a smile. She's as skittish as a rabbit, I thought. "It must be horrible for your social life."
"I enjoy it here," she said quietly. She took a deep breath and the buttons on her blouse strained when her breasts pressed against the front of it.
"That's good," I nearly rolled my eyes again. "Could you help me with the copier now?"
"Oh, of course," she said, stepping ahead of me and walking toward the faculty copy machine. Again I let my eyes drift towards her swaying ass, and smiled to myself. Well, if Miss Washington was hopeless, her walk and sway wasn't. When we entered the room, the copier was making its buzzing noise, signaling a problem and its' annoyance.
"It's too bad were so pressed for money that we can't afford a new one," I said in a small talk way.
"Yes," she muttered, going through the procedure of typing in codes and trying to calm the screeching machine. I stepped closer and leaned down to peer over her shoulder. Her soft wavy hair, unbound today, brushed against my cheek and I took in the scent of her light perfume. Slight, flowery, and fragrant it clung closely to her, didn't drift or hang in the air when she left the room. Taking in a breath, he leaned closer to get a better whiff of scent. She started, jerking her head around and smacking it into his. On an oath, he rubbed his forehead and looked down at her. She was staring at my mouth.
"S-sorry," she said softly.
"My fault," I said smoothly, smiling despite my throbbing head. "I have a skull like a rock, are you alright?"
"Y-yes," she replied, never taking her eyes off my lips. "Just a little bump."
"I think you'll be alright," I smiled. What was she thinking? I asked myself.