She is walking by the bookshelves when he sees her that day.
She always walks by them, browsing the shelves, ear pods must be playing something good because now and then when interested in a book she ends up gently swaying her hips distracted of the world around her.
He's seated in a far desk row desk with his research papers all over, reading something entirely random when she snatches his attention like every other day.
She's wearing a white shirt that masks her curves a little but still a little tight by her breasts and salient nipples can be seen whenever something arouses her.
A flowered skirt loose enough to dance around her legs when she moves her hips by the song she's listening to. That devilish skirt that she insist on wearing on summer classes plays wicked games with his sight and mind when she carelessly crosses and uncrosses her legs looking like a bored child.
She is leaning on a shelf nodding with the music browsing the book pages when she looks up and across the room until their eyes meet.
Promptly she stands up straight but with the same calm expression locks eyes with him for a moment until she greets him with a polite nod and a smile.
She puts the book back in its place and resume to her wandering, meanwhile, his stare never breaks. His eyes follow her like an amused predator studying his prays every move. She knew and she liked it.
With no hurry on her steps she moves to the other rows making her way through the books and now and then she looked back at him making sure he was still watching while her mind played her fantasies imagining that mysterious professor wanting her as much as she wanted him. Those same fantasies that she played to indulge her mind when her body wanted to be touched.
One more glance over his desk, and she found him looking down at his papers making her stomach twirl. It seems that he lost interest. Too bad.
She kept going because her library walks was for her and not for him. Books were the key to her imagination, and she loved the time wasted between them and her search for new pages to read.
A little time after and another curious glance found his seat empty and another twirl in her stomach when she faced that unfortunately, the game was over for now. She shrugged alone putting the book back and making her way to another row.
She found another book to read and it was pressed against her breasts firmly as she walked out the library into the hot air night. Her mind playing just as hot scenes of her fantasies with the professor making her smile as she walked her way to the parking lot.
Something made her shiver, like a weird feeling deep inside her. Was she alone? She started to walk faster removing the ear pods to see if she could hear anything different. Were those another set of footsteps?
"Why did I parked so far?" Of course nothing like that ever crossed her mind. That library was like a second home, and she knew the surroundings so well that she would never fear it. She was afraid to look behind and at that moment a comical movie like scene popped in her mind where the frail girl runs and when she tries to look behind she ends up falling on her own feet. How do you supposed to hold your keys? It was between your fingers like a claw? And then? Am I supposed to shove them on the guy's torso? Face? That if I can manage to do it right.
Her sweaty and freezing hands were trying to place her keys between her fingers when she finally gathered the courage to look just when she was about to get to her car. No one was there.
She let her breath out realizing her mind was playing tricks on her, that her own stories played her as the scary character, but she also realized how turned on by it she was. She felt between her how wet she was by that crazy idea of being followed. Wet thighs, red cheeks, shivers up and down her spine as she was trying to catch her breath looking over the empty lot.
