7I really should introduce myself a little before I tell you about Natalie and the stacks. I'm 38 years old; a single mom - widow, actually - with a fourteen year old daughter. I have a degree in library science and work in the library at a local university. I don't date very much - not that I couldn't. I run or work out just about every day and at 5"6", 126 pounds with firm 34b's, still have a good figure. I also have a nice, if not pretty face, and thanks to my husband's estate and my job, can dress and live well. No, it's just that the good guys seem mostly seem to be taken. Trite, I know, but true.
As my girlfriend Jenny says "If they aren't married by this time - there's a reason and, baby, you don't want to know what it is!" Of course, all of this is another way of saying that sex is pretty much a solitary activity these days. Not that I mind orgasms for one, but it would be nice to be held and caressed, maybe even kissed someplace other than on the cheek.....Anyway that's all about me, except of course for Julie, my daughter, light of my life, giggling partner and all around best friend who would be pretty shocked if she know what her mom was about to tell you.
I first noticed Natalie about two months ago. Every third week I have to work from 4:00 p.m. to midnight, when the library closes. She came in about 7:00 one Monday evening and, I noticed her in part, because she was older than most of the other students, early thirties I guessed. She was also quite elegant looking, even in a simple skirt and sweater, with polished nails, white creamy skin and short, but beautifully done auburn hair. As she signed in, I saw that she wore a wedding ring and I thought that she was either a married grad student, or more probably a professional person, doing some research. She carried a small leather attache bag and went directly to a computer terminal.
I went back to work and had stopped thinking about her, when she came up to my desk with a list. Giving me a quick smile, she handed it to me and asked if I would help her find the references on it. Looking at the piece of paper, I was both a little embarrassed and intrigued. She had a list of items from Nancy Friday's Secret Garden to articles from Girlfriend and On Our Backs magazines. Some of the titles I didn't recognize, but those I did were almost all female erotica, dealing mainly with masturbation. The source of my embarrassment is obvious, but what intrigued me was that almost any high school girl could have found these references. I wondered why she needed help or if she just wanted to make sure someone (me? whoever was at the desk?) knew what she intended to read and was interested in doing.
Taking the list from her, I walked out from behind the desk to help her find the books and articles she wanted. It took about 30 minutes, after which she thanked me, giving me a tight little smile. Then she headed for the old metal framed stacks in the back of the library. My mind was still buzzing with the titles we had pulled, and I would have liked to follow her, but there were a couple of people standing at the research desk, so I went back to work. And as the night wore on, I stopped thinking about her until she signed out. I spun the register around after she left and took note of her name: Natalie.
She came in twice more that week, each time going first to the computer to look up titles and then coming to me for help in pulling them. Some were the same books or pieces she had pulled the last time, but I didn't say anything - she seemed to want to make sure I knew what she was reading and that fascinated me. She dressed simply, but well, favoring skirts with buttons down the front or side and cashmere sweaters or a silk blouse. The last time she came in that week, I managed to follow behind her at a discrete distance to see where she went in the stacks. She had found a small nook that was quite private. It had a desk and was bordered on the sides by the backs of large filing cabinets. In the rear it butted up against the wall of a glassed enclosed, air conditioned room where fragile reference material is kept. The glass room is normally used only during the working day, so it was dark and empty. I knew that from inside I could get a pretty good view of her, but from any other vantage all one would see would be her back.
Letting myself into the glass room, without turning on the lights, I walked quietly around the shelves until I could see her from a slightly oblique angle. I was standing in the dark, next to a row of books about five or six feet from her. Peering between the volumes, I saw her facing me, sitting slightly away from the desk. Her skirt was unbuttoned all the way up and she wasn't wearing panties. Her legs were spread wide, her hand between them, moving slowly up and down against her swollen pussy and caressing the inside of her thighs, her bright red nails contrasting erotically with the soft white skin. She was staring at something on the desk in front of her, I suppose reading one of the references we had pulled, slowly stroking herself.
I found, to my surprise, that the scene in front of me was rather arousing and I felt that old familiar tingle start between my own legs. I had never seen another woman doing that to herself, unless you count the time I had accidentally walked in on Julia in the bathroom. (That had been a little embarrassing for both of us, but we had had a frank discussion and I let her know that masturbation was a normal activity that most people, myself included, enjoy.) This of course, was quite different. I watched Natalie for several minutes, and had begun to wonder how she continue to touch herself with such studied indifference, when suddenly she closed her eyes and slipped lower in her chair. Her head went back a bit as she brought both of her hands to her crotch. Her pussy was very open now and clearly glistening with moisture. As she separated her lips with one hand, I could see her clit standing up, clear of its sheath. She started flicking it with the middle finger of her left hand, while she ran two fingers of her right up and down her slit. Dipping into herself, she brought her moisture back up to her clitty to lubricate the fingers dancing over the little button.
With even realizing it, my right hand had slipped into my slacks and under my cotton panties. I was very wet and could feel myself opening. My eyes were riveted on Natalie as I ran my fingers up and down my swollen inner lips, which are very large and sensitive. I felt myself going a little weak in the knees and couldn't believe I was actually masturbating in the dark, in the glass room, while watching a woman I'd barely met, do herself. The thought made me hotter and without willing it, I felt my thumb start rubbing my erect clitty while my fingers started to push up and into me.
