Light filtered through the lowered mini blinds creating golden lines on the heavy wood desk. In the center of the desk was a worn leather journal. A thin female hand caressed the rough leather, tracing over the insignia on the cover.
The owner of the hand was an attractive blond haired woman who sat at the desk staring intently at the book. This book was her only souvenir of the man who ruined her life today. Her index finger hooked around the leather band the encircled the book and rotated it so the small silver lock binding the book closed faced her. She shifted her weight in the chair and felt a small key press against the soft lower curve of her right breast. She should hate the man who left this journal in her hands, but she didn't. She hadn't loved her life enough to grieve for it's sudden downfall.
Her eyes scanned the small neat apartment she had occupied for the last five years. It seemed alien to her now, part of a past life. The book in front of her was the passage to a new existence but she wasn't quite ready to open it. She felt a need to reexamine her past, as one would the life of a dear friend who had passed away suddenly, to see if the death had been necessary, if it could have been avoided.
Her mind slipped back several hours. She was dressed in her cute little pleated black skirt and simple red sweater. A brass nametag was pinned to her chest. Leeda Kiesly, associate librarian, it read. She was putting away some returned reference volumes when she noticed him at the end of the aisle watching her. He was tall and elegantly dressed. Except for the sparkle in his blue eyes, he could easily have been one of the older professors that frequented her library. But those youthful blue eyes watched every movement of her body in intimate detail and did not belong on the face of the distinguished white haired man that leaned against the bookshelf with a cane hooked over his arm. Though he was too old to interest her, there was something about him that appealed to Leeda. There was a swagger from self-confidence, hard won, and a look that said he would never take to growing old gracefully.
"Are you looking for something?" Leeda asked using the smile that had charmed her out of a lot of situations. He smiled in return and nodded but didn't speak.
"Can I help you find it?" she prompted.
"I don't know" was his cryptic answer. She waited to see if he had any further information to offer. He didn't answer. He just kept looking at her, especially her legs. It was starting to make her uncomfortable. She shrugged her shoulders, offered a helpful smile and said, "Well let me know if there is anything I can do."
"I will," he replied.
Leeda turned away from him and retrieved another volume from her cart. This book needed to be returned to the top shelf, so she pushed a rolling stool over to the spot. As she reached the top step, the gentleman began walking towards her. His eyes seemed glued to her legs and she became self-conscious of the short skirt she was wearing. She almost wished she had listened to Ms. Wardley's tirade about her clothing and wore something more matronly to work. As she reached to place the volume on the upper shelf, the gentleman came to a stop inches from her. His face was so close to her bare thigh she could feel his warm breath on her skin. She tried to push the volume into its place quickly, but it refused to slide into the small opening. She lifted the hand that had been holding onto the shelf to try to make a larger spot for the book. As she did, the gentleman grabbed her by the knees. The shock of his hands on her skin made her jump and she grabbed the shelf to keep from falling off the stool.
"Please let go of me," Leeda whispered tersely.
The older man shook his head and stepped behind her, keeping a tight hold on her legs and pressing them toward the shelf. Thoughts raced through Leeda's mind. How could she get out of this? She couldn't struggle. If she did, she would fall from the stool. If she yelled out for help, no doubt Ms. Wardley would be the one to respond and she would hold Leeda responsible for this scene. Ms. Wardely was a dried up old prune, who thought Leeda's short skirts and big breasts meant she was a loose woman. No doubt the man at her legs was thinking the same thing, though what he hoped to accomplish by grabbing her like this was unknown to her. It was probably just a quick grope by a man physically incapable of doing any thing more. She decided her best bet was to just wait patiently for him to let go.
Then all logical thoughts were thrown from her mind as his warm breath tickled the back of her knees. She gasped from the sensation. The soft touch of his lips on her skin followed. His hands still held her in place, but she wasn't sure she could have moved away from the sensation if she did have her freedom. She felt a burning in her belly and tingling from her breasts to her core. Her breath caught in her throat as his hands loosened their grip and began a delicate tracing of her knees and thighs.
"Bend forward," he said in a quiet authoritative voice. She felt humiliated and terrified and somehow incredibly excited. Her mind told her to jump and get away from him, but her body obeyed his command. She tipped her body forward, pressing her forehead against her hands on the shelf. She knew it mad no sense, but her body seemed hungry for the hands that were tracing patterns up and down her legs, worshipping their lines as he kissed her lower thighs and knees. She felt one hand slide up the back of her thigh to the lower edge of her skirt. He pushed the material up over her ass, revealing the black silk panties that she wore.
