Amy's first day working at the library started off with about as much excitement as one would expect. That was fine by her, as she preferred the quiet and the library was a good place to find it. The aisles and bookshelves seemed to go on forever, full of books to discover and quiet places to hide away and read them. The campus library was also the least likely place to run into the kind of boys she wanted to avoid.
Not that she had much difficulty evading their attention. She'd overheard herself described as mousey, one likely to be overlooked and lost underfoot. She wore what she liked and didn't pay them much mind, today like most days wearing her short black hair up in a bun, round-rimmed glasses, and a simple pale blue blouse and a gray pleated skirt. Her ample breasts drew more attention than she preferred, but she found that in a convenient coincidence she could keep them from getting too much attention by hiding them behind the books she liked to read.
A man she'd passed on the way in seemed to have liked the look, sizing her up as he leafed through a little black book. He looked nice in a long-sleeve button shirt and slacks, both deep black, but she kept her distance from the man in black and he kept his.
For the moment she sat behind one of the desks, awaiting books needing to be sent back to their proper places and leafing through a book doing a poor job of holding her interest. From her position she could also manage some mildly entertaining people-watching between pages.
Her fingertip paused midway through a page turn, bending it back and forth as she wondered whether to give it a few more pages to prove itself, when she spied a young lady leaving the stacks. She looked a bit flushed and was mostly succeeding in hiding that she was shaking a bit as she walked. She was also grinning like a fool.
Making as though to continue reading her book she peered over the binding, curiosity piqued. A more thorough inspection noted some faint marks on her wrists and a thin black collar around her throat. One of the buttons of her blouse was missing, and another was in the wrong hole. And she was... clearly not wearing a bra. What had she been up to back there? She gave Amy an odd look as she walked by, smiled knowingly, then left.
Her attention snapped back to current events at the sound of a book being set on the desk by her elbow, set quietly although the clap of the cover on the counter sounded unusually loud and made her jump a little.
Looking over to the small black book she saw a large hand on it, leading up the arm to broad shoulders and a pleasant face bearing the smile of a man with a secret. The man in black. Up close she could see that he had a nice physique, the kind she liked where he wasn't too taut but wasn't muscle-bound either.
He said not a word as he leaned over her with that smile, looking into her eyes. At a guess he'd probably have still stood a few inches over her even if she'd been standing. She felt herself shrinking back in her chair a bit, though not precisely trying to move away from him.
He was almost uncomfortably close to the point that she wondered if he meant to kiss her. Her toes curled a bit in her shoes as she though to push her chair back a bit, but his scent called her to stay where she was. The way he looked into her eyes she felt as though he were physically holding her down with those strong hands instead of just his gaze.
Her tongue felt dry and she swallowed before speaking, recalling that she was supposed to be working. "Can I help you with something?" The words came out less confidently than she'd hoped.
He said not a word in reply, just kept looking at her. Visibly his eyes moved down her body and back up, her nipples uncomfortably stiff under his inspection. She might not have found it odd if he'd somehow unbuttoned her blouse with his gaze, but instead he merely slid the little black book towards her on the desk. The corner of his mouth turned up in approval as he stood back up to his full height and simply turned and walked away.
Amy then began to take notice of the outside world again, starting with exhaling. At some point she'd dropped her book, though it'd simply fallen in her lap. Nobody seemed to have noticed... whatever had just happened. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear she rose to look at the little black book, displaying nothing resembling a title aside from a large A on the front cover in delicate caligraphy. A glance at the sticker on the side told her that it belonged in a part of the library she hadn't seen much of yet. A little walking would be good to clear her head.
It was near closing time and the last of the sunlight slipped amber fingers between the stacks where it could reach. Her curious fingers opened the small clasp and opened the book, leafing through the pages to see what this was about. Everything was hand-written, and in many different styles of handwriting from chapter to chapter. She picked one at random and read...
"His tongue was amazing. Everywhere he touched me set off fireworks. When he kissed me his tongue wrapped around mine, played with me. He knew just how to flutter his tongue on my nipples to make them so hard they hurt. And I thought I'd die when he got between my thighs and slipped his tongue inside me and all around my-"
With a squeak she bumped into something, clapping the book shut loud as a gunshot. She'd been so distracted she walked right into a bookshelf. Whether the warm flush in her cheeks was from bumping into something like a silly girl or from what had been written in the book, she couldn't say.
Pausing to adjust her glasses she noticed something on a low shelf. Bending to pick it up she found it to be a button, quite possibly the one missing from the girl's blouse earlier. Realizing what her position was doing to her skirt she stood up quickly, though she saw no one behind her.
Walking a little farther she found the place, one empty slot high up where the black book belonged. As she pulled a nearby ladder into place she spied something curious about the shelf. Someone had tied some long bits of black cord to the shelf, looped around and tied with several knots. The soft cord was warm to her touch, and there was an interesting scent in the air. Kind of like the man in black, but something else too.
As she prepared to scale the ladder she looked up and down the aisle again. She'd learned the risks of skirts and ladders earlier that day, and even in quieter parts of the library such as this a random visitor wasn't too far off. Carefully positioning herself on the rungs she climbed up and angled the book onto the shelf, soon finding that she'd slightly misjudged how far over she needed to place the ladder.
Deciding to go for it anyway she reached out farther, figuring it would only be a short drop anyway if she were to fall. Tempting fate had the result one might expect, and when her hand found a smooth part of the ladder rung it slipped free. With a squeak of surprise she closed her eyes and stiffened, reaching out at random to try to grab onto something.
A moment later she noticed two things. For one, she was no longer falling. Second, while one arm and leg were wrapped around the ladder and one foot dangled, her other arm was wrapped around someone's warm and well-toned shoulders. Someone with a familiar scent.
She lifted her head from the shoulder it'd been pressed against and opened her eyes to see the man in black regarding her with a warm smile. His hand at the small of her back pressed her close as he helped her down off the ladder, both of his arms curling around her as he set her on her feet. She bit her lip as the motion made her nipples brush down his chest a little, sensitive enough to feel it even through her blouse and bra, hard enough she wondered if he felt it too.
Her hands were on his chest as he steadied her, and she found she did indeed have to look up at him. Not so much taller that he'd have to lean too far to kiss her, though she chastized herself for thinking of it in such terms. One of his hands reached up to her face, and he found herself closing her eyes and quivering a little even though all he did was slip her glasses back into place and brush an errant strand of hair away from her eyes.
She had a thing about having her hair played with, though he couldn't have known that. Could he? She paused to catch her breath. Someone could come by at any moment and it wouldn't do for her to be found like this in the stacks on her first day. "Thank you," she managed to say as she tried to slip away. His hands resisted her at first and she pushed her hands against his chest a bit. A heartbeat later he released her, though she had no doubt he could have held her as long as he wanted to.
His hand brushed up her shoulder and his fingertips teased up her neck, his touch lingering a moment under her chin as he stood at arm's length. He smiled at her again, that dangerous secret smile. "Take care." His baritone voice went through her, with just a hint of a Spanish accent. She was glad she was already standing near the bookcase, fingers finding the shelf to steady herself lest she need him to catch her again.
Before she knew it she was alone in the stacks again, leaning against the bookcase trying to catch her breath. What was he doing to her? She ran her fingers through her hair and down her neck, almost considering opening a button or two of her blouse. Because she felt so hot, yes that was it. It was a bit stuffy in here at times. It had nothing to do with the way her nipples scraped at the inside of her bra, or the moistness she felt between her legs.
The sound of someone calling for closing time brought to her attention that one of her hands had already opened a button or two and then had stolen beneath her skirt, pressed against her dampened panties. Her other hand didn't come when called at first, and she noticed it had become tangled in the cord.
Blushing so much she thought she might glow she untangled herself and tried to straighten her blouse before going back out to the people. Adjusting her hair she noticed an increasingly familiar scent on her fingers. What she smelled on the cord and in that place smelled very similar to her hand. The hand that had touched him, and had touched herself.
At home beneath the covers she stoked the fire that had been smoldering earlier that day. Being a single woman she wasn't a total stranger to helping herself along, but that night seemed more intense than most. Alone with her fantasies everything was different.
