“Good evening Rose...” she uttered, letting her long dark lashes flutter over me for just a few seconds too long.
“Good evening...” I hesitated, realising I didn’t even know her name. She had just become ‘The Librarian’, an individual whose existence was solely defined by the place I’d met her.
“Juliette,” she responded, sounding as indifferent as she did offended. Only the French seemed to be able to do that, I smirked to myself.
“Something amusing Miss?” she snapped.
“Not at all,” I caught myself quickly, for the disapproval in her tone was evident.
She started to lead me through the darkened corridors of the library and I followed like a dog at her heels. I admired her height; it commanded a definite authority. Her long legs were accentuated by the highest of heels and as my eyes dared to move further up the skirt, they became mesmerized by the movement of her tiny ass. I wondered what it would look like in all its naked splendour.
She led me into a small room, the existence of which I hadn’t been aware of before now. To enter this room she used a bright silver key which jangled against the others into the silent night and started to unlock her way into our adventure. As we entered the room, I was overcome by the sight and smell of the old books stacked neatly on shelves which towered to the ceiling.
“Some of these works date back centuries. Nobody is to know you have been in here, understood?” she clarified.
I nodded my head immediately, my eyes glued to her as she locked the door quickly behind us. There was really no escape now and I was starting to feel slightly afraid as to what was about to unfold. The room was dimly lit and it was only the light from a standing lamp that illuminated the dusty old wooden furniture, consisting of an old desk and a couple of chairs.
“Take a seat...” she instructed, pointing to the chair in front of the old desk.
“Thanks...” I managed.
I watched her as she took her place in front of me, the desk being the only barrier between us. She was staring directly at me and I tried to withstand the intensity of her dark gaze. It was too much for me though and I started to blush, grateful to the dim lighting. She was, however, unforgiving and undeterred in her sentencing.
“So, as you well know, you are here to be punished for the attempted theft earlier today. I am going to use you as I see fit, do you understand?”
She didn’t wait for my reply.
“First you are going to start by stacking some shelves. You will find a pile of books on the floor below you. You will get down on your knees, retrieve the books and file them in alphabetical order.”
I didn’t hear the last part of the sentence, for I had stopped listening and started fantasising at the ‘drop down on your knees’ part.
“What are you waiting for?” she snapped.
“Nothing...” I visibly jumped, standing up and moving to the pile of books on the floor. As I started to bend, it occurred to me that my dress was much too short for the task at hand and I was about to reveal everything to her within seconds.
She seemed to read my mind, passing her tongue lasciviously over her bottom lip and stating simply, “I’m waiting.”
I tugged at the little red dress and tried to cover myself as I knelt down to tend to the books. I heard her stifle her laughter and, without turning around, I knew she was still watching me.
I busied myself with the books, wishing the summer heat would relent. She had turned on some music now, though I was unsure of where it was coming from. Edith Piaf was accompanying my labours and for this I was grateful, for it was a distraction from thinking about her, sitting just metres away and watching my every shuffle.
Suddenly I heard a crash to the floor and I jumped. She had dropped a heavy literary work just before her feet and seemed in no rush to pick it up.
“Rose...the book please!” she demanded, beckoning to me and pointing to the book.
I was about to protest at this humiliation, but thought better of it. I approached her so slowly, biding my time, for I was stunned by a simultaneous fear and desire. As I approached her, I noticed that a couple of her shirt buttons were now undone and, for the first time, I could see a hint of cleavage. My eyes dropped from her cleavage, down the flat of her abdomen to her skirt, which seemed to have risen somewhat.
“The book...” she repeated and I bent down before her eyes, revealing my buttocks to her. Before I had the chance to get back up, I felt her slender hand on them and the cool of her skin made me jump.
“Stay like this please, I’d like to look at you for a second.”
I froze on all fours and I closed my eyes as I felt both of her hands caressing the soft cheeks of my naked behind. I let out an involuntary whimper and I could feel myself starting to get wet under her simple touch. I was relishing the gentle and sweet strokes of her hand when suddenly they were replaced by a blowing sting.
“Ouuch!” I screamed out, more in surprise than actual pain.
“Sshhhh...” she ordered.
She rubbed my reddened backside with both her hands, before starting to spank me again. She was having difficulty reaching me from the chair, so she pulled me over her knee. My breasts were pressed tightly against her long and lean legs, my body bent over in such a way that my naked ass was in the air and ready to receive the full weight of her wrath.
“Still,” she ordered, as I started to wriggle. She spanked one cheek and then the other, alternating between hard and soft, following up with soft caresses which made me shudder. The surprise and the anticipation of what she was going to do next were driving me wild.
“Now, let’s see if you’ve really been suffering or else pretending...” she continued. “If I find you’ve been pretending, I’m going to have to punish you some more.”
I had no idea what she was alluding to, but very quickly I understood, for I felt a couple of her slender fingers creep under my silky underwear and gravitate towards my wanton sex. She slipped inside my wetness and I verbalised my delight. She moved her fingers up and down for just a second, fucking me playfully before cruelly pulling out and depriving me of my pleasure.
“So you were in fact just kidding...” she said.
“No....” I started to protest, but I was met with her very same fingers coming to my lips to silence me. Instinctively I opened my mouth and took her inside, tasting my sweetness and my desire.
“Good girl,” she said. “Now let’s get down to real business. Stand up for me.”
I rose to my feet, maintaining her scorching eye contact and shivering under its heat.
“Strip for me Rose,” were her clear instructions.
I didn’t hesitate, for I had never wanted to expose myself to somebody quite as much as I did right then. I pulled the red dress over my hips, raising it slowly so that she could see the shiny black fabric of my underwear, gleaming more and more by the second with my ever-increasing arousal. Her eyes were very clearly on my concealed pussy and her mouth parted a little in anticipation of what she would later devour. I continued my striptease, lifting my dress higher, so that it glided over the smooth skin of my toned abdomen. Her eyes followed the path and her legs instinctively parted, for I was sure she was being tortured by her desire too.
“Don’t stop,” she instructed.
I didn’t. I pulled the dress right over my head, exposing my full breasts, bouncing in their freedom. I heard a sharp intake of breath. Suddenly a wave of carnal lust swept over me and I approached her. She pulled me onto her knee and our lips met. We kissed with furious passion as a storm of desire passed over us; hands were everywhere charting this new territory. I had never kissed a woman before and was overcome by her smooth sweetness that was making me ache with pending gratification sought. I ran kisses down her neck, making my way to her breasts that were cheekily peeking out of her shirt. My tongue found her hardened nipples and began to suckle them with a growing appetite.
“That feels good...so good...” she moaned as she tossed her he
ad back in euphoria. I noticed that her legs were wide open now and her skirt had risen well above her knees; I couldn’t help but take a peek at what was very clearly on offer to me and I shuddered when I realised that her pussy was totally naked. She was completely smooth and had the fullest and most inviting lips that glimmered with her intent. I needed to taste her right then; there was no question of that.
“May I?” I asked politely, dropping once again to my knees.
She didn’t reply, instead she took my head in both of her hands and pulled me into her heat. Despite the fact I had never tasted another woman before, my nerves were beaten by my very pure, uncensored desire. I seemed to lose control of my tongue as it met her wetness, starting from the bottom and licking her all the way up to her swollen clitoris. She tasted so divine and was clearly meting under my novice tongue. I encircled her bud, taking it between my lips and sucking hard, as I had minutes before with her nipples. Her hands were in my hair, pulling me further and further into her so that I could barely breathe. This didn’t matter to me, all I needed was her right then. I lapped at her pussy, feeling her sweet excitement running over my tongue. The more I licked, the wetter she became and the more difficult it was for me to drink her all up. I felt that she was close to climax, so I inserted a couple of fingers into her tightness. Her pussy contracted around them and I started to fuck her rhythmically, all the while teasing her clitoris with my newly skilled tongue.
“Don’t stop!” she screamed, and her body trembled under my prowess as I maintained my moves. She was overcome by her climax and she pulled me closer and closer to her satiated sex as the orgasmic ripples subsided. As her breathing calmed, I pulled away from her and she smiled at me through glazed eyes.
“Am I forgiven?” I dared, knowing that her post-orgasmic good humour would get the better of her.
“Of course...” she replied to me. “And now I’d like to give you a little pleasure...”
She had me bend over the old wooden desk, while she knelt on the floor behind me. I liked this shift in the power; now I was going to be the one who was served. I felt those beautifully manicured hands on my ankles as she started to place soft kisses up the back of my legs. She gently parted my legs further and I knew that from her position she had a perfect view of my pussy, my clitoris protruding as it was engorged to the point of explosion. I didn’t have to wait for long before I felt her tongue in a very unexpected place, between my buttocks, encircling a very sensitive spot that had never been explored. I tried to protest, for this felt so ridiculously intimate and explicit, but I was muted by the euphoria of the moment. My pussy was desperate for some attention too and she seemed to intuit this, darting straight inside me with a very inquisitive tongue. The sensation was exquisite and I started to move my hips, fucking that highly skilled tongue of hers. We both moaned in great pleasure. I turned my head slightly and realised that she was touching herself at the same time. This almost sent me over the edge, but what finally did it was when her tongue found my throbbing clitoris; I just exploded, feeling the pleasure flood out of me. She was greedy that night, for her mouth went to catch the juices, drinking me up with an insatiable thirst.
Minutes later we were totally spent, lying in each other’s arms and giggling conspiratorially. I knew that was the most fun I’d ever have in a library. I spent much of that summer in the hidden back room with Juliette; my memories of that time are positively blissful. I never expected to see her out of the library; for me she was a beautiful piece of the furniture in that majestic place. You can imagine my surprise then, when one cool October day I found that she had disappeared from the building. No other member of staff seemed to know her whereabouts. Sadly I trudged to my exam, which was my French oral. No sooner had I made my way through the entrance and eyed one of the examiners, than my eyes fell upon hers. I blushed furiously, never expecting to meet her in any other circumstances. She looked radiant as ever and it may have been my imagination, but I think she gave me a little wink as she uttered the following words: “Right then, let’s get down to real business.” The memory of our first time sprang back to me and as she licked her lips before starting the exam, I couldn’t help but remember how skilled her tongue really had been.
Temptation in the Bakery
I go there often, as I’m sure is the case with every other female sitting in there too. It’s the ideal place to go in winter, when the sky is dark and the elements are hostile. Inside is always bright and cosy; you feel like you may well have slipped into your living room after being out all day, having left all the lights and the radiators on. The space is aesthetically very pleasing indeed, boasting original stone walls, parquet floors and a generous amount of lighting, which is neither too bright nor too dim.
In spite of such pleasant surroundings, you may be forgiven for overlooking their splendour entirely, for your eyes are magnetically drawn to the sugary temptations which lie within the glass cabinets that line the shop. Your eyes can devour breads, cakes, cookies or croissants, among with many other delights. They lie in wait, tantalisingly still and teasing you with their motionlessness. You have the feeling they are playing Tag; the moment you reach them, they might dodge your playful advance.
Perhaps the sight of them could be bearable, did they not give off such a sweet and provocative scent, furtively drifting up to the nasal passage and making the mouth water in some prolonged act of foreplay. Yes, you could find yourself imagining how these creations would feel melting slowly and sensually on the hot, wet tongue. You could dream of how it would feel to have these temptations dissolve, morsel by morsel, each bite bringing you closer to satiation.
If my willpower hasn’t faltered by now, I will approach the final hurdle. Or rather, the final hurdle will approach me. He does, slowly. He is the creator of such exquisite treats. He personifies the clichés of romantic heroes; he is tall, dark and handsome. His hair, eyes and skin are brought out by the contrast of his crisp white uniform, under which it’s impossible to tell if he’s wearing anything or not. I order and reorder, just to feel him in my nervous proximity. Coming out of the kitchen, he always seems to bring with him a certain heat and a knowing smile.
Today I’ve been sitting in here for the last couple of hours, for outside the snow is coming down quickly, shimmering as it settles against the window pane. I have one eye on my book, another on the beauty of the flakes drifting by and yet the only movements I’m really aware of are his. I order a hot chocolate, something to warm me up from deep inside. He smiles at my request and delivers to me quickly, though he places it down in front of me in agonisingly slow motion, never letting up his intent gaze bearing down on me.
“This should hit the spot,” he jokes, a little smile adorning his handsome face.
“Women and chocolate...” I agree, sure that he is accustomed to being the bearer of such pleasure.
He grins at me and I’m very aware of his gleaming smile, reflecting the bright white snow outside.
“I have of course seen you here many times and I’ve been long since wanting to ask your name...” he begins.
“Lana,” I offer.
“Lana,” he repeats, wrapping those very sensual lips around my identity.
“Well, very nice to meet you Lana,” he begins to wipe his long-fingered hands on his apron. I imagine those fingers kneading the mass; their precision and control. I don’t know whether it’s the rush of sugar or the heat from the steaming chocolate, but I’m suddenly starting to feel very hot indeed.
“I’m Jack,” he introduces himself.
“Nice to meet you!” we both offer in unison, laughing in surprise at our synchrony.
He studies me for a moment and I start to feel myself flush. I try to compose myself as his gaze flickers over me in the soft light, tracing its way down from my emerald green eyes, over the smooth expanse of my freckly cheeks, then moving down to my full pink lips that are shimmering with a freshly applied gloss. I see him take in the halo of long dark waves that crown my head
and I wonder if he might like to trail his fingers through their softness. His dark eyes then proceed to feast on what is left of my trembling self; caressing my long and subtly fragranced neck, before dipping down to the gentle slope of my full breasts, lowering to their peak to see my nipples standing pert and hard under his unrelenting watchfulness. The black dress I’m wearing clings to my feminine curves and I feel his eyes trace their way down them, over my small waist, out again to my hips and all the way down the length of my shapely legs. All of this takes place in just seconds, but my heart seems to have stopped beating and I remind myself that I have to breathe. He meets my eyes once more and smiles, as though the jury’s verdict had been made in my favour. He walks away and I take a desperate sip of chocolate, trying to soothe the nerves that have overtaken me in the last five minutes and satisfy the desire I feel surging up inside of me that is keeping my eyes glued to him.
I hadn’t noticed before, but night has fallen now. The darkness of the sky contrasts against the brilliant white snow. Jack starts to busy himself now with various cleaning chores and I realise that everyone else has slipped out into the night. The place is silent, save for the faint hum of a dishwasher and a little soft music floating through the air.
As he moves around the room with the sweeping brush, we play a little game of tennis with our eyes; I throw him a furtive glance and he looks away. My emeralds dart back to my reading and I feel him return the favour. I feel something growing inside of me, coming from a very secret place. Though I’m sitting perfectly still, I feel adrenalin rushing through my body and butterflies taking flight in my stomach. I’m so wrapped up in our game that his words make me jump out of my goose-bumped skin.
Tales of Lust and Magic Page 6
