She liked this quiet time best, when the library was not far from closing. There were just a few patrons scattered around the various chairs, reading periodicals, while several were perusing the current bestseller stack. Not quite time to begin herding them out the doors, which was just as well, as they not ready to be checking out. The soft chiming bell on the desk would cue her to anyone needing her assistance, though few rarely did. Joseph would keep an eye on things; the information desk had a clear view of most of the main floor. Scooping up her first pile of checked in returns, already stacked in Dewey order, she nodded at Joseph, and headed out to shelve them.
At twenty minutes to closing she was working on her final stack of books. Her co-worker was beginning to make the rounds, softly alerting the few stragglers who had yet to depart of the library’s impending closure for the night. She yawned as she headed to the second floor. She’d do a sweep of the upper room for people; though the last person had been seen leaving ten minutes ago, there was the occasional person still deeply engrossed in the tall stands of shelves. A quick turn around the room proved the space was empty. Scooping up the books, she made quick work of shelving the first few. The last two were mates, and of course were on the top shelf. Being petite was often a challenge, none so much as having to rustle up one of the step stools. Stepping up, she still needed to stand on tiptoe to wriggle the tomes into their proper places.
As she reached to place the second book, a hand cupped her mons.
“Don’t stop what you’re doing, and don’t turn around.”
His voice was deep, and firm.
“What? What are you doing?” her voice was a shocked whisper. Too many years working in such a quiet place had made it all but impossible to actually scream.
Fingers pushed aside her panties, began wriggling around her slit. A rough fingertip caressed her clit and she moaned.
“No…what…stop…” It was wrong, she knew, to get such pleasure out of being so roughly handled. And by some random stranger. And in the damn library!
“I’m not going to stop and I’m sure you know that. I’m going to give you pleasure. Keep your arms up and your head turned away.”
There was something in the timbre of his voice that made her obey. Was this some kind of offshoot of Stockholm syndrome or something?, she wondered. Another moan as his fingers slipped up into her pussy and began diddling around. A massive shiver ran through her, one of pleasure and fear. What if someone came up, like Joseph, to give her the all clear? What if this guy pulled her off the stepstool and killed her? What if she had an orgasm right here, right this way? What if he stopped, right now?
“Cum for me, little slut, come for me now.”
The voice was deeper, huskier, his fingers working at a frantic pace inside of her. The quivering grew fiercer, her hips wiggling. Her back arched as she came, a sudden gush of liquid down her legs.
“There’s a good girl, no, now you know we aren’t done yet.”
His fingers stayed buried in her cunt, fucking now, fucking and wiggling inside of her. His thumb pierced her anus, and she whimpered. The pain and pleasure did a dance between her legs as ripples of heat ran up her spine.
“Your pussy is just sensitive. You’ll get used to my thumb up your ass. It will give you deeper pleasure. And I like knowing it hurts you to get this beautiful pleasure. It feels so fucking good, doesn’t it, slut? Put the book down now and step down off the stool. Yes, keep your back to me.”
His fingers remained inside of her as she followed his directions, until she was bent at the waist, hands resting on the stool where she had stood moments before. When his cock entered her, it was with a strong thrust.
She came, harder than the first time.
He fucked her roughly, quickly, spurting his baby juice into her belly. His thumb circled her clit.
“I want to make you remember the stranger who fucked you brainless at work.”
She shivered, the sensitive bud on overload after two orgasms. She’d never had two orgasms in a week, let alone during one sexual event. When she came again, it was with such intensity that she blacked out a bit, her legs wobbling, her arms not able to support her. She fell to her knees, shaking.
She never felt him tug down her skirt, nor heard him leave. A soft chime through the PA system informed her that the library was now closed for the evening. Pushing to her feet, she moved slowly to the stairway and began to help Joseph close up for the night, saying nothing about the encounter on the second floor.
Sliding into her car, she felt the wetness of her panties. She blushed, humiliated by the wetness that had come after the assault. Flicking on her lights, she could see something stuck under her wiper blade. She thought about just leaving it there until she got home, but knew it would drive her crazy if she left it. With a sigh of reluctance, she slid out of the car and tugged the card free.
It was on light blue, heavyweight stock, and simply read:
Tonight’s sexual encounter was a gift from a friend.
She sat back, eyes closed, and wondered which friend it could possibly be, wondered if she would call the police if she knew, or send a thank you note, before starting the car and headed home.
Joseph watched as Lindsey got out of her car to retrieve something on her windshield. He smiled all the way home.