The Girl in Yellow

[Redacted] University, sophomore year:

Whenever I need some peace and quiet and I need to get some work done, I go to the library. Not to the study area, or the reading room, but up into the stacks. There are a couple of spots where there are desks in corners and in gaps in the shelves. They are always quiet and almost always deserted.

I went up there to one corner of the 6th floor one day to get some work done. It was usually empty, but today there was another girl sitting at one of the desks in that little corner. She was dressed in something like a yellow track suit with shorts. She had a laptop computer with a set of headphones plugged in. She looked like she was watching something, but I couldn't see what it was from the other desk.

She didn't look up at me when I walked in, so I decided it wasn't worth going up another floor just to avoid her, so I put my stuff down and took out my books. I don't really remember what I was trying to get done that day, transcribing lecture notes or summarizing a reading for some class, but whatever it was, I started in on it. At first it was pretty easy to ignore the girl in yellow. Our desks were facing each other at a 90 degree angle, so she was always it my field of vision if I looked up, but at first, I just didn't look up.

A couple of times, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her move. I kept my focus at first, but then I looked up, wondering if she was getting up to leave. She wasn't, but she was moving her hand up and down the side of her body, down her leg, then up to her chest. Weird. Maybe she's itchy? I went back to my work.

I saw her move again. I looked up. Now her hand was up inside her shirt, and I could tell she didn't have a bra on. I tried to keep ignoring her, but it wasn't long before I looked up again. Ok, now she was definitely rubbing her breasts, playing with her nipples. I couldn't see the screen of her laptop, but she was concentrating on it pretty intensely. What was she watching?

I tried not to think about her, to keep my eyes on my notebooks, but I couldn't hold it for very long. I looked back up. Her hand was down her shorts now, stroking herself back and forth.

I couldn't pretend she was doing anything innocent any longer. She was clearly masturbating. She must have some kind of porn on that laptop. Who masturbates in the library? I guess I come up here for privacy sometimes, but this is a little different! And it wasn't like she stopped when I showed up.

Did she know I was here? She was staring intently at her screen since I walked in, and she had headphones on, maybe she thought she was still alone? I coughed a little to let her know I was there.

No response. I hoped she wouldn't be too embarrassed to find out I was here. I decided I would pretend I hadn't noticed. I coughed a little louder.

She looked up, but she didn't stop. Her fingers kept churning underneath her shorts. She looked me right in the eye. Forgetting my plan to not 'notice', I met her gaze. She smiled and gave me a nod and never stopped fingering herself.

I had no idea how to respond to this, so I just stared blankly for a moment. I dropped my gaze, but it just landed on her crotch again. I could see her pinky finger poking out of the leg of her shorts. She probably wasn't wearing any panties either.

I stared back at my work, but I couldn't even see it, my mind was fully occupied with this girl and nothing could tear it away. Was she really going to rub one out right there in front of me? Did she get some kind of pleasure from being seen? Being caught? What was she expecting me to do? What

should

I do? Should I tell her to knock it off? No, I couldn't do that, my introverted brain would never let me. I couldn't keep working, or even pretend to keep working. The obvious solution was to pack up as quickly as possible and get the hell out of of there.

But something in me kept me rooted to the desk. It would still be embarrassing to run off like that, but I also had a lingering curiosity. If I ran off, I would never know what she was up to. I didn't want to be left wondering forever, did I? And thirdly, I couldn't admit it to myself at the time, but I did feel, deep down, a little turned on by the whole situation.

I never considered myself a lesbian, I'd never been with a girl, though I had occasionally been turned on by girls in porn or other places. What fascinated me most was her confidence. Being as awkward and shy as I am, the idea of someone so sure of herself that she could just straight up masturbate in front of a total stranger, and then look them in the eye while doing it! It was completely unfathomable.

I kept looking down at my work for a few excruciatingly long moments, but eventually, I had to look up again. By now, she was really getting into it. Her other hand was back under her shirt, stroking up and down her chest, her hips were thrusting. Her eyes were closed and her head thrown back. She was starting to break a sweat.

Then she opened her eyes again, staring right at me and grinning a very provocative grin. This time I didn't look away. I was looking at her, and she knew it. There was no sense in pretending otherwise. I didn't know how else I should be reacting. I couldn't just strip off and join her. I couldn't ever bring myself to smile back, so I just stared, deer-in-headlights style and watched.

She stared right back. Our eyes were locked for a good while, her thrusting and fingering becoming deeper and more intense, her legs spread wider.

I broke eye contact when her movements changed suddenly. She rose slightly from the chair and slid her shorts right off. Now I had the full view of her pussy, and of her fingers, going to work on it. She wasn't shaved, but she was neatly trimmed, so I really did have a full view.

She was also extremely wet. Her moisture glistened in the harsh lights of the library stacks, and I could hear it as her rubbing quickened. She was starting to get red in the face.

Outwardly, my expression remained a blank stare, but inside I had to admit this was really turning me on. I didn't act on it, but I did notice the crotch of my own jeans feeling a little tight and a little moist. Maybe if I had been wearing a loose skirt, or yoga pants without panties, I might have started to touch myself, but these big, tight, mom-jeans didn't allow for easy access.

So I just kept watching, frozen in place, transfixed by the craziness of the whole situation.

She was getting sweaty now. She was really working hard. With her free hand she tore off her shirt. She was naked now, except for her socks. Her small breasts bounced as she rubbed herself. Her brown nipples poked out straight.

Now both hands went to work on her pussy, one working inside, the other on her clit. I couldn't tear my eyes away. How long would she keep going? Would she "finish"? Would she come and then keep going for a second? A third? Who was she anyway? What was her deal? I had to know. I had to watch til the end.

Her face and her upper chest were glowing red. Sweat was dripping from her head and body. Her fingers worked furiously. Her hips thrusting and grinding. Sweat and juices were making a puddle on the library chair.

Suddenly, there was a change in her rhythm. Her eyes were closed tight. Her fingers kept working, but the thrusting stopped. She arched her back. I watched the muscles in her thighs, then her abs start to twitch. Spasms of ecstasy rippled up and down her body. She came hard, her body shaking and convulsing, but not making any sound. The puddle of sweat and juices was now soaking the chair. Her whole body tensed up. . . and then relaxed. She leaned back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling. She sighed and took a few deep breaths. Then she looked up.

She looked right at me. Her eyes were wide and wild, a huge grin on her face, she was still breathing heavily, trying to catch her breath.

I was still frozen in place, but now I realized I would have to react somehow, she wasn't breaking eye contact with me. I twisted my face into probably the most awkward smile I or anyone else has ever attempted.

I tried to think of something to say, but I ended up falling back to my first plan, and I silently shoved my books into my bag and got out of there as fast as I could. I didn't look back. I power-walked across campus and back to my dorm. My mind was racing, trying to deal with everything I had just seen.

Who does that? Who has the confidence to masturbate in front of a total stranger?

Who was she? Then a moment of panic: Would I see her again? What would I do? What should I have done?

I was so turned on. Did that make me a lesbian? Was this some latent fantasy of mine? It would be amazingly hot to have that kind of confidence. I could barely even get changed in front of my roommate.

I was sweating when I got back to my room. My panties were wet and possibly soaking into my jeans by this point. Luckily, I was alone in my room. I immediately stripped off my clothes and rubbed out two of the biggest orgasms I'd ever given myself. The whole time thinking of the girl in yellow.