The public library attracted two kinds of people: a) the fanatical readers that could not afford all the books they wished to read and b) the town's winos, bums, and drug addicts, who hang around in the park surrounding the library, using the building for bathroom breaks and a few moments of serenity.
For Jessica, however, working at the library had always been her dream: an easy, relatively well-paying job that allowed her to read all the time, considering her work consisted predominantly of ensuring no one was disturbing the peace and to track down non-returned books—and with the newly installed automated check-in and -out system, her job had become even easier.
Dealing with bums and drunkards was the only true hazard of the job; unable physically to restrain them, she asked them, from behind the counter, to be quiet and tried to wake them up when they snored. Bill, the security man, was often helpful in throwing out the disruptive ones, although, they always managed to sneak back in.
Students and other readers hurried in, checked the books they wanted, and rushed out, unwilling to stay too long in the often alcohol-reeking environment; only bums occupied the big reading tables, most of them pretending to read, sometimes sleeping on an open book and sometimes simply sitting there, silently staring at the great emptiness of nowhere.
She walked out of the counter—dressed, as always, in black high-heel pumps, a short, tight skirt, and a white shirt with the three top buttons open, her long, dark blonde hair caught in a tight bun—in order to put back some books left on the tables, opened and unread.
"Hey, honey," a rugged man with long white hair and a dense beard greeted her from the armchair in the corner, lowering his newspaper.
"Good evening, sir," she nodded with a faint, absentminded smile. As she walked around the bookshelves, carrying a stack of seven heavy books around trying to find their proper place, she scanned the room—five guys were in the library, one visibly drinking wine, or cheap whisky, from a flask, while the others pretended to read newspapers, or large books (which offered them an excuse to stay long, if Bill suddenly decided to walk in).
They all followed her with their eyes, as she had to stretch or bent over in order to put the books back to their place—it was one of those days she regretted not wearing underwear, as every time she had to bend over the ogling men got a good view of her nakedness.
With the last book under her arm, she went to the far-end corner to finish the job; she bent over deep, the book belonging to the lowest shelf, and tried to squeeze it between the other hardback tomes of the encyclopedia—she did wonder who thought it smart to pick an encyclopedia to pretend to read, but, tried not to be judgmental.
She gasped, when two rough hands grabbed her by the waist and someone pushed his crotch—and engorged member—hard against her behind. Instinctively, she held on to the sturdy bookcase nailed on the wall, protesting vividly as a pair of rough hands lifted her skirt.
"No undies, huh?" The man said with a cold chuckle, roughly fondling her round, firm ass. "You've always wanted it, haven't ya? Walking around in them tight clothes, looking all sexy and hungry..."
She gasped, when he rubbed her pussy raw, unceremoniously thrusting two fingers inside her. She held on to the sturdy bookcase, as the man slammed his fingers in and out of her cunt, hard and dry; "take it easy, please," she pleaded—to no avail.
The rest of the guys approached slowly, watching hungrily—at first, Jessica looked at them hoping for an aiding hand, but, as soon as she encountered the glint in their eyes, she lost all hope. And yet, despite the burning pain in her loins, as the man drilled her with four fingers, she caught herself thoroughly enjoying the compromising situation.
The guys came closer and rough, dirty hands were all over her body, ripping her shirt open and groping her large, soft breasts, twisting and pinching her pink nipples, while others caressed her back, flat stomach and thighs...all the while, the initiator drove his fist deeper and harder in her pussy.
"She's wet, man," he announced with a chuckle. "I knew she wanted it, man. Told ya!"
"Let's give it to her, then," another responded and suddenly they all whipped their erect cocks out.
"Come on, honey," someone else said in a rusty voice, "time to get busy."
They pulled her away from the bookcase and the fingering stopped; she was forced down to her knees, suddenly surrounded by five throbbing dicks. One cock was thrust in her mouth hard, its head punching the back of her throat.
Anonymous hands groped and fondled every inch of her body, someone rubbed her now-wet pussy, someone else teased her tight, thitherto untouched asshole. In the meantime, her throat was brutally drilled by a thick, pulsating cock, by a strange man with the shaved head, long, uncombed beard, and faintly crazy blue eyes.
