I Fell for a Librarian B. 02

Everyone is 18+ in the this story of love and lust with family.

I rode the short bus in school and am dyslexic and use software and editors to make it easier to read.

I fell for a Librarian.

Book 2

I pick you up in my strong arms and carry you to the over sized couch laying you down on the clean sheets I found, watching your eyes watch me. We kiss again as I work out of my things, not in a hurry kicking my shoes off and pulling my socks off with my toes. My kisses trail down your neck. It's turning red as you moan softly as I bite your shoulder near your neck.

I stand next to you, pulling my jeans off my boxers caught on my cock, and I let it slip, making me bounce like a diving board. You look down at my hard-cut cock. It's jumping to my heartbeat; having seven inches and a good size girth means my ladies have all been happy. Only one was scared, but she got over it and it.

I unsnap your black bra one-handed took weeks of practice putting Mom's bra on a chair and working on getting it undone and one-handed, I might add. Finally, you grasp your breasts are full, standing up perky, just a touch of their weight giving them a fantastic look. Your areolas are popping in tiny goosebumps; your nipples are not hard yet, but my fingers will change that for you. You were pinched softly at first as I rolled your nipple between my fingers for the first time. Your chest to neck flashes reddish to your growing moans.

I pull my fingers off your nipple and slip my two fingers into your mouth, giving them a gentle fucking motion. You make gurgling noises as if you are sucking on my cock. My fingers are now wet. I pinch your nipples again; they grow harder as you moan and arch your back. I suck your other nipple in my hot mouth; your moan makes you tremble. Finally, my fingers find your mound, and I rub you in circles on top of your panties, pressing hard; your eyes are glowing with your need as your breath catches in your throat as I bite your shoulder, a safe place to leave a mark.

You moan again, trembling as you come a tiny bit harder. "So this is what they write about losing yourself to another wonderful touch. I knew your eyes were kind, baby. You are quite gentle with me, we've been kissing now for a good while, and I feel you want me, but you're not in any, oh gods any... hurry, You kiss so much better than my last man your stoking my fires I can't believe how wet you are making me Dan."

I moan as my fingers stroke over your mound on your panties harder; your heat is real. "Why rush heaven, my fair lady? My poor cock wants you now as it is; it was dripping like it had a cold," I said, laughing into your neck, kissing and biting, being careful not to leave marks where they could be seen.

My precum caught your notice as you rubbed my cock head like I was rubbing your nipples to moans. You spend extra time on my pee hole as you taste me off your fingers and moan again. "God, you taste good, better than my last boyfriend; he liked this, though." As you take half my hard cock down your throat in one gulp.

I was surprised by your skills, the half dozen girls who have given me blow jobs I got from my lady friends, yours is good, but there was something extra behind yours. Is it more giving it a need, or was it a wanting to please?

That's sucking my cum out of my cock. I'm seconds away, I'm not one to have a hair trigger well after that first time anyway, but it's way too good. It's got to be both. "Mary, you're showing me you want my hot cum; I, I'm, sorry Crap, your good. I losing my back teeth; you sucked them out my dick, Mary, Soo fucking good."

I said, moaning as I came hot jet after jet fills your mouth, your trying to catch it all. Nothing sexier than seeing your woman licking cum off the corner of her lips that you've just shared with her.

I worked on catching my breath and say. "We need you out of your things, dear. Have you ever been beaten to within an inch of your life?" You shook your head no. So, getting blood into my brain, I sit up and turn to you.

I pull your sexy black panties off, leaving garters and stockings on you as I see a full bush of hair. Your wet is sticking to your curly hair, making your pink pussy lips stand out, glistening with dew. I saw your clit get swollen, and it slipped out of your lips like a tip of a finger. I swear it pulsed to the beat of your heart. I kneel on the floor before you, my hands holding your legs gently. You spread your legs, turning your head away, too bashful to watch me.

"Mary, look at me please, dear, you're going to want to watch this; my word, you smell sexy; you're going to come so hard," I said, making eye contact as you broke into a light sweat on your upper lip in anticipation of what comes next.

You turn your head back to me; your eyes show your need and want as we lock eyes. But, then, with your legs fully open and my face lights up, you saw that you become proud of what you saw in my face; you indeed beamed.

I see your wet pussy juices dripping down as my precum did as your outer lips open, showing the cutest color of hot pink and wet pussy. I began licking the dips up, sneaking kisses off you're inter thighs to tiny bites. Here I feel you can have hickies. I watch you watching me as my tongue makes contact with your inside pussy for the first time. We moaned together as your fingers grabbed my hair. My mouth on your hot wet pussy lips was not stopping your mauling; my tongue slipped inside you, again and again, fucking you with it. Finally, my mouth becomes full of your juices, the taste of your essences dripping outside my mouth; the smell drives me crazy. I'm already hard again, but you're not near done yet.

My hot mouth warmed you up by sucking your lips into my hot mouth, and I found your clit; it is the sweetest tasting clit, soft and spongy like a tongue and with a firmness that pulses softly to your heart. I time my sucking to your pulse, making you throb harder; my fingers get wet in your juices as a finger slips inside you to your loud moan.

Your grasp was almost a squeal, and you pulled me tighter to your pussy; my wet fingers teased your rosebud, slipping inside an inch or so. Finally, my fingers are drenched in your juices, just enough to let me slide in easily to your ass; your moaning won't stop; it gets louder now.

You scream through your hand over your mouth. "Baaaybe my your in me ass you, hot, my I soo hot so fucking hot you nasty shit!"

My timing is getting you close to your moans, and you're grasping like a fish out of water; each intake of air moves you closer to you're blissful edge. But then, tremors hit, and moans changed pitch as they passed through you.

Your fingers are feeling your need in my hair; it's pulling me tighter to you as if I stop; nope, ain't stopping; hell can freeze first.

Tilting your head back, your eyes half closed, showing me your need, you swallow hard, trying to get enough air to scream with; as you do, you yell out. "I'm am I am I'm Coming! My god, I'm! Am I coming Fuuuuck me? Oh hell, this is good, Dan, so so good oh yes, anytime this pussy is yours!!!"

Your eyes went blank and rolled up in your head as I kept licking softly across your pussy lips, gently kisses now softer aftercare; you can't speak yet, but it looks like you wanted to, but no rush.

My hands stroke you, softly holding you, rubbing your face or arms till you stop shaking. A tiny sigh slips out of you the whole time I speak softly. "I love to be your first Mary, but I had no idea librarians were so fucking hot, or this was such a full-service library, and I noticed a librarian watching me like she was as hungry as I am and were not just talking sex here, are we, Mary? But I don't have any condoms now, and I can stop by the free clinic after school and pick some up." I say.

I get up, go to shower, and wet a wash rag with warm water and a dry towel. I return, wash the sweat off you, and pat you dry with a towel. When your brain settles down a bit in your body again, you told me. "I can just focus my eyes baby your right; that was incredible, I am so sleepy, but we can't. I got to get the alarm set in a few minutes. We're late now as it is, and it will look odd. I want you inside me, but we are running out of time today. Where did you learn to make a woman come like that, and can we please do it again and often?"

"Practice, practice, and Patrice's my bi-girlfriend; she showed me all the tricks she uses on girls, I mean all of them, she's my only friend at school that is willing to sit with me at school. She is the only one who laughs at my jokes but hates how most of her friends treat me." I say.

I continued talking as we dressed, showing no shame as if we had been lovers for years, not mere seconds; it was a little like rushing to dress at home with Mom, trying not to be late; it felt right.

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I started recalling my first woman as I told the tale. "She was my first kiss; it was supposed to be a simple game of spin the bottle in the closet, normal teen stuff. Then she kissed me and stroked my hot cock through my pants a few times, another first for me. After that, I lost it and came in my jeans. She gave me her sweatshirt to cover my wet stain and helped me leave the house without anyone making a big deal. She could have destroyed my ego a few times. After that, I might have a different outlook on life after that," I say.

Mary asked. "If we were still a couple?"

"No, just best friends for life now; we talked and kissed on the back porch as the party went back in the house. She showed me how to finger her to come there outside on the back porch, and over the next week, as her folks were out of the country, we fooled around every day and twice on Sunday; it's good knowing what and where a clit is." I laughed, remembering Pat and all the wicked sex we had and all we learned about sex with each other.

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I say. "I'm glad she's in love with a nice girl. I hope they will be happy; it's a shame her folks can't accept her; she's a good friend to Pat."

"I used all my cash up on condoms that week; that was money well spent. I have even been around the world several times with a few girls. But now I can't get laid unless someone sneaks over on one of my Moms late night double shifts, and they bring their condoms that was a month, no five weeks now since the last midnight ride of Paul-cock Revere. I am unsure what the word is going around school about me, but I can't get girls to talk to me, so I stopped trying."

I finished talking a little mad, but none was aimed at you.

Mary says. "Young hot girls can be the meanest bitches on the planet; you not being seen as husband material your invisible makes it hard in high school but trust me, in eight years, the hot girls half will be fat with kids, and the rest will be drinking their nights away at happy hour and drunks in rehab by their thirties."

"So you're saying I got eight more years of this damn crap to live, though?" I said, hoping I heard wrong.

Mary answered me with a bigger smile. "I don't think your next eight years will be all that bad now. How hard you made me come. I say what comes next is going to be hot as hell. I want lots more of this, please. Now did you make your copies for school, Dan?"

Nodding no, I put the copier back and plugged it in, and Mary started making copies for me. I spread the books out onto the floor and put them to put them back correctly on the bookshelf. Mary looked at me as if a new light had come on. You moved a book over. I start to say something but hold still. You glanced at me; I almost spoke because I thought I had gotten the order correct. You pull your glasses on, rub your nail over the book label, and the dot moves, and put the book back in its order. I got 100%. Mary kissed me and asked. "Your mom knows your pretty damn smart?"

I nodded yes. "I owe everything to my Mom; she made me who I am, and we did most of that learning here in this building; you worked here then, didn't you? You had a colorful white fiesta peasant dress for Cinco De Mayo; you gave me an application for a library card. Thank you for that, a book, and a yellow Popsicle. The book was the little train that could, wish I could tell you where that book is now. We moved a dozen times in just a few weeks that year. It was a bad, bad year." I said, my face clouded over.

Dear man. "The Little Engine that could, But I see you took the book to heart. Do you do a lot of reading, Dan?"

I say. "I'm sure you already looked at my reading list, and I never had a late fee; my Mom saw to that. So what two hundred plus books since you got me that passport to adventure?"

I say. "My dear man, your Mom has done you proud. You are smart; it's over three hundred, and you logged a few hundred hours online learning about the world. May I ask why your read so much about Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)? Your so young?"

"I will tell you someday, Mary, because you earned my trust, but no, not today; let's keep this happy feeling. Please, but I can say I let my mother down. I could not protect her then, but I will now." I said, standing taller and feeling older.

We left by the side door and ran more than a few minutes late; security caught us at the door. The guy at the door looked like this was a first for her, coming out late with a guy, and Mary says. "Dan works with us now. This is John in security."

Walking out and Mary says. "Oops, hope you don't mind working for me part-time now, twenty thousand a year for thirty hours a week. I can guarantee this will be a blast and a half."

I stopped and strapped my book bag to my motorbike. "Are you making me your slut Mary? I'll take the job on your terms?" I asked, not caring what she called me were doing more of this.

"Nope, you going to work hard for me, and after hours or off the clock, we find time for us, and you can't take me to the movies or dinner if you only got a buck. I enjoyed your company today. I felt safe; you made me crazy with lust. I want more time with you; you even made me laugh; we're halfway there. So you're going to have to man up a good deal. Are you up for the challenge Dan Allen Bogart?

I say. "Guess time will tell, but yes, Ma'am, you're not like the girls I date. I guess date is the wrong word, but we're not dating, are we, Mary?"

Mary says. "Dating, that's funny. I'm not laughing at you, but you made me feel more like a woman by how you treated me in the short time we been together than three ex-boyfriends or my fiance did in three years of dating in college and the two years after. So yes, I'll date you. Of course, the Human Resources department would go nuts if they found out we were dating. But yes, I said I'll go to the movies with you now; let's get coffee and talk about tomorrow."

We drank coffee, ate a snack, and for four hours till it was nearly midnight, talking about books and ships and sealing wax and cabbages and kings. Then, finally, my phone pinged a text message; it was from my Mom.

"Could I pick her up on my motorbike please the hour wait for the bus and the almost two-hour bus ride was more than she could take tonight. They cut her hours again at work because I won't play nice with the nasty night manager. So we will have to scramble to keep the phones on this week. Can you bring my jeans?"

I told Mary. "I have to go get my mom Bobbie at work; her shift ended early."

I looked into your eyes and say. "I want to kiss you again hard, but I don't. Right now, it's just lust, but I want to see if it grows into something much more, and I think it will. I have not left yet, and I miss kissing you already."

I hopped on my motorbike and started it up; you walked over and kissed me long and hard. You told me. "You better get going But drive safe; come by after school; we need to get your work info, and set up your work hours, You blue-eyed devil you."

I think you kissed me in front of the coffee shop to seal the deal. I texted my Mom.

I was not at home; I was on a date. I got things backward; I made her happy, then went on a first date; it was hot, Mom; see you soon after stopping for your Jeans.

I got to the Diner where my Mom worked in under twenty minutes stopping to get your jeans; my forty-year-old hot Mom stood out her five foot ten inches. She was once a tiny towns Miss Texas runner-up, and her one hundred thirty-five pounds with a figure of 38-34-36 DD was indeed my hot Mom, Mrs. Bobbie Jo Bogart.

Mom looked mad now; her blue eyes were on fire, matching her red hair. She has to work until her replacement arrives but has yet to learn how long. Mom feeds me her dinner plate, burger, fries, and Coke; I never turn down food. You never know what's next or when this next meal I've seen whole days with no next meal. I sit near the cash register, where no one ever tells me to move from that seat, and the folks who work there have been bringing me things to eat and drink for over a year now.

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I guess it was about a year ago now. I was drinking hot cocoa with coffee studying for a test on this bar stool waiting for Mom to get off work, and this kid my age came in shaking, strung out on drugs, and pointed a gun at my Mom behind the counter.

Rotating my stool to him and I said. "Guns work better when they're cocked." The kid pointed the gun up and looked at it, unsure how to tell if it was cocked. I hit the dude with my coffee cup right in the face, grabbing the gun and snapping it out of his hand.

I order you. "On your knees, cross your legs and hands behind your head now; you fucked up; you went and pointed a fucking gun at my Mom, oops sorry for cussing, Mom, somebody call the police."

I Hear. "I'll take the heat for the kid cussing; nice move, kid." I never did find out who said it.

The strung-out gunman came rushing at me, yelling. "To give me my gun back."

I hit him between the eyes again harder, a right cross with my fist; this time, it cracked something in your face; you fall to your knees, I tell you. "Cross your legs, hands behind your head, now!"

You go to stand up, heading again toward me. I again hit you harder. Your now flat on your back, groaning. I flip you over and move your arm into the middle of your back. I use your belt to tie your hands as I sit back on the stool.

I strip the clip and jack the round out, setting the gun on the counter now safe. I continued to read my book till the police showed up. I have a test the next day at school.

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Having recalled the incident, your shift is over, so that we can go home. Getting ready to hit the road for home, you unbutton the buttons on the bottom of your work dress, wearing your jeans, and sit behind me. Although I thought that uniform dress would be a little cold on you, I give you my leather jacket and helmet to keep you warm.

The twenty-minute ride was fun; it just is fun when my Mom holds me; I pull into the parking lot, the street kids are out drinking beers outside our apartment again, and at one am on a school night, my calm was shattered, but Mom told me. "Park it inside on the drop-cloth; you're not losing about the only thing you have and love." So Mom got off, unlocked the four locks, opened the front door, laid the cloth down, and I walked my bike into the room. Another night sleeping with my wheels, I laughed, but there were four bike frames still chained to the poles in the parking lot outside no tires, engine, seat, or gas tank, but they were still locked up safe and sound.

I prop the wood desk chair against the door like we do every night. We don't have a TV again, broken into twice this year alone. We're lucky even to have dishes and don't get me started on the pricks who stole the toilet seats, nothing but the damn seats? What's wrong with people stealing weird shit like toilet seats and turkeys?