Arianna Whithall sighed quiet acceptance of her fate to herself. Her break was over; the work had to resume. She pushed herself up off the sofa in the communal room and straightened the creases out of her black pencil skirt, checked her hair and makeup were in order in the ladies' bathroom mirror, and headed back downstairs to the library. Her colleague, Pamela, smiled gratefully at her as she appeared, and rose from behind the desk to brush past her to attend her own break.
"Catch you later," she murmured, touching Arianna's arm in a show of friendship and reassurance.
"Enjoy the break," chirped Arianna, sitting down. She slipped her glasses out of her jacket pocket and slid them on, peering at the lists that lay before her -- of books returned and unreturned, inbound and outbound -- and the piles of books themselves. An intimidating display of collective knowledge and information about all subjects imaginable and more, to be sure, but Arianna was quite content with them; she had lived around and in her books for most of her life, and even the chunkiest tomes did not faze her. They had the great, thick trunks that were the books on the Light and priesthood to contend with -- hundreds if not thousands of them.
Picking out a sizable armful, she laid the relevant reference paper on top and set off, her high heels clacking across the carpeted floor.
Now
, she thought.
Let's see... 'The Doghouse of Economics' -- E27.
Stifling a faint snort of laughter at the book's cover, she ambled over to the aisle and wandered down it, scanning the towering shelves on either side.
Not a bad setting for a murder novel, one can't help but note
, she remarked idly to herself as she slid the book and a couple of others back into place.
Thick books act as walls on either side -- high walls at that... Numerous corners from which the predator might pounce or drag his prey...
---
It had been an exhausting day for Samantha "Sam" Collins. She gave the familiar, friendly, single nods to her fellow carpenters as she walked -- or staggered -- out of the keep. Her mind was a blurry haze, and she took little notice of those who passed her in the street, or the pigeon she almost trod on before it noisily flapped away in alarm. In amongst the reel of flashing thoughts, one repeated itself over and over, and eventually stuck:
Arianna, that soft, sexy thing.
Her lips subconsciously curled into a faint, knowing smile; she knew Arianna was still at the library, working.
What boring work that must be
, she thought.
Time to spice things up, love. And holy fuck, does she look good in that outfit.
As she approached the large, stern-looking brick building, Samantha already began to grow hot between her legs and felt a tingle resonating throughout her insides at the thought of Arianna's appearance.
She went inside and climbed the stairs to the floor she knew Arianna worked on. Glancing aside, she frowned. Nobody was at the desk. She decided to prowl. Peering between the varied aisles, she searched for her deluxe friend, for that familiarly curved body, that luxuriously silky, elegant hair.
As she turned the corner into the aisle of law, she halted suddenly, her breath catching in her throat.
There she was.
Standing on the tippy toes of her high-heeled shoes to slot a book away, Arianna stood with a small pile of books at her side and a piece of paper in her hand. As she struggled to slide the book in, Samantha paused, leaning against the nearby shelf to admire her body: her prim, business-like clothing, the incredibly curvy, luscious figure contained therein; the softness and sheer smoothness of her long legs, the black skirt wrapping around thick, plush thighs and containing a cushiony ass just begging to be held. Her breasts were veritably massive, straining against her shirt as she arched her back; the nipples were practically visible. Samantha knew their rubbery taste and feel, and the squeezable texture of her tits all too well. Her eyes drifted up to Arianna's gorgeous face -- her delicate, feminine facial shape; her luscious, oh-so lusciously full lips given a modest coating of lipstick; her large brown eyes, so easy to get lost in, and those glasses. Samantha felt herself go weak at the knees -- Arianna looked so sexily sophisticated in those glasses. Her dark brown hair, normally loose and flowing down in perfect silken waves to her hips, was up in an elegant bun, exposing Arianna's long, fragile neck. Samantha found herself licking her lips subconsciously.
Light, this woman is so fucking delicious
.
Suddenly, she marched forward, lavender eyes locked on her prey. Even as Samantha neared her, her target was still unaware. Unable to restrain herself as she saw the black skirt slide up over her smooth thigh when she bent over, she lunged for Arianna, clamping a hand over her mouth. Arianna yelped into her hand, dropping her books and papers and wriggling around. But Sam was many times stronger than she, and simply tilted her head back until she could gaze up into her eyes. As soon as Arianna saw who it was, she relaxed, her eyes growing lidded.
"Oh, Sammy," she murmured once Sam removed her hand. "That w-whoa!" Arianna was given no opportunity to say a word further, for Sam suddenly bent down and effortlessly slung her body up over her shoulder as though she were nothing but a sack of potatoes. Keeping her hand on Arianna's generous, supple ass to hold her in place, she walked purposefully to the end of the aisle, where a quieter corner of the library was. "Sammy, I'm at work!" Arianna hissed from over her shoulder, helpless to move. Sam merely smirked, and gave her backside a vigorous slap, making her aghast captive jerk.
"I know."
