Meet Me By the Kama Sutra (Regular Sex Issue 4) (2 page)

‘Sylvie, you’re
needed to cover reception for ten minutes.’ A girl appears at the end of the
aisle just as Sylvie pulls a book from the shelves and hands it to me.

‘There you go,
sir, I think that’s what you’re looking for,’ she says, smiling brightly. ‘Come
and find me again if you need anything else.’

I watch her walk
away, and as she disappears I double up with the effort of keeping my yell of
frustration inside.

I give it a
couple of minutes and then wander out of the room back into the main part of
the library, and I can see her sitting alone behind the reception desk.

‘Can I help you,
sir?’ she says as I approach.

I nod and lean in
a little. ‘I want to fuck you.’ I say it quietly so only she can hear.

She looks as if
she’s thinking about something I’ve said, and anyone who glanced over could
easily assume she’s wondering which aisle to direct me to.

‘Do you
specialise in any particular area? I might be able to point you in the right
direction.’ Her pleasant smile is at odds with the lust in her eyes.

I brush my hand
over the stubble on the side of my face.

‘Cunnilingus,’ I
say. Smartarse.

‘That’s a wide
subject,’ she shoots back. ‘Can you drill it down a little?’

Oh, am I going
to drill it down.
I nod.

‘I specialise in
making sexy librarians come with my tongue.’

Her eyes dilate,
and she writes something down in that notepad I’m fast growing to love.

‘Meet me by the
Kama Sutra.’

 She hands me the
sheet, then glances away as another customer approaches the desk, and I leave
reception. Where the hell will I find the sex guides? I can hardly ask one of
the other staff.

I look up at the
headings on the aisle ends as I walk around, bypassing the youth section, the
medical section, the romance section. Hang on. Might it be in romance? I pause
for a second and then decide that it’s not romance we’re talking about here.

Do they have an
adult section? I doubt it, or mac man would spend his days lurking there. I’m
sure I’ve lapped the building twice now and checked all of the various aisles
and rooms, and I can find neither the Kama Sutra nor Sylvie. I’m starting to wonder
if I’ve hallucinated the whole episode due to lack of caffeine when I hear a
voice whisper my name, low and feminine.

‘Huey.’

I follow the
sound into another side room, once more divided into several aisles. I make my
way along until I see her, perched several steps up on one of those sliding
ladders.

‘I think I’ve
found what you’re looking for,’ she says when I approach her, and I can see
that she has a copy of the Kama Sutra open in her hands. She turns it down to
show me a photograph of a couple having oral sex, some guy kneeling with his
head between the thighs of a woman with long raven hair, her breasts in his
hands.

‘You have nicer
tits.’ I run my hands up Sylvie’s silk stocking clad thighs. God, she’s
seductive. I push her skirt up, revealing the bands of her stockings and the
pale, bare skin above. I stop for a second to just look, to admire her, to
commit her to memory. She’s the sexy librarian of all of my recent fantasies,
and I’m about to lift her skirt over her ass. Sylvie unfastens her blouse and
pulls her bra down, playing with her tits as she twists at the waist to watch
me.

‘What else does
the book say?’ I ask, and then ruck her skirt up around her hips and Jesus, I
could almost come in my jeans because she’s not wearing any panties.

She glances at
the page for a moment. ‘It suggests beginning with gentle stimulation of the
lips and hidden flower with your fingers,’ she breathes, then lifts one high
heeled foot onto a higher rung, parting her thighs to give me a better view.

I run the back of
my fingers lightly down the length of her lips and kiss the sweet swell of her
ass cheek.

‘Hidden flower,’
I repeat, parting her labia with my fingertips. ‘I prefer to call it your clit.’

‘I like that
better too,’ she says, pushing down into my hand and stifling a moan when I
stroke her clitoris. I take my time, touching her gently, as the book suggests.

I kiss the back
of her thighs, then snake my tongue over the naked flesh above the tops of her
stockings.

‘What else does
it recommend, Sylvie?’

She pauses, flustered.
‘Umm... it says that you kiss and lock your lips over the flower.’ I sense that
she’s paraphrasing because her concentration is shot. That’s okay. I don’t need
a book to tell how to pleasure a woman.

I cup the round cheeks
of her ass in my hands and part them, lifting my face between her legs, then
let my tongue start to move on her, licking her lips, her folds, her clit.

Above me Sylvie
grasps her arms around the ladder, rounding her backside out into my hands as I
dip my tongue inside her before sliding my face forward again to suckle her
clitoris. I don’t give a fuck what the Kama Sutra says anymore. She’s hot and
wet in my mouth, grinding down on my face when I push two fingers inside her.

I can’t get
enough. She’s drenched, wet from my mouth and her own need, and I play with her
spread ass, touching her there lightly too to see if she goes for it.

Oh, it’s safe to
say she goes for it. Her body clenches taut around my fingers, and I feel her
clit throb in my mouth as she comes silent and hard, clinging to the ladder
tightly as if she’s scared she’s about to fall from a great height.

We still for a
few moments, straining with the effort of trying to breathe quietly, and then I
help her down, feeling her body as I do, her skirt still high around her waist
as I turn her around in my arms to press her back against the bookshelves. God,
she’s responsive, her tongue is fast and hot in my mouth and her hands make quick
work of the buttons of my jeans.

‘Thank fuck,’ I
gasp when her hand slides inside my shorts and wraps around my rock-solid cock.
She manages to free me and I spring out into her hands, and for a second, I
have a sharp flash of reality. I’ve got my cock out in a public library. Anyone
could come in here. The thought does nothing to dampen my ardour; the opposite,
if anything. It’s wrong to do this in the middle of the afternoon. It’s wrong
to finger the librarian until she comes on your face. It’s wrong to let her
wrap her hand around my cock and work me. It’s definitely wrong to let her drop
to her knees and slide the silken heat of her mouth over my cock, but ‘Fucking
hell, Sylvie, that feels so good,’ I groan, running my hands over the waves of her
hair, halfway to holding her head so I can thrust. I’m not going to last long,
it’s too intense.

‘Sylvie!’

Another voice,
another interruption. Man alive, no! Not again, not now, not unless this
fucking building is burning down, and even then I’m not sure I’d want to leave.
I'd rather go down in a blaze of glory. Please don’t make her stop what she’s
doing now.

I look down at
her, paralysed, and she looks equally anguished as she stands up and quickly
straightens her clothes.

‘Don’t go.’ I hold
her arm, and I can’t keep the urgency from my voice.

‘I have to, or
they’ll come and look for me.’ She kisses me hard on the mouth for a couple of
seconds, biting down on my lip.

‘I’ll be back,’
she murmurs. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’ She turns away, and then, as an afterthought,
she reaches down the copy of the Kama Sutra and whispers ‘ pick a position,’ thrusting
it into my shaking hands before hurrying away around the corner.

I can taste her
on my lips. I can feel her in my hands. I was so close to coming; my poor cock
might never recover from the shock of being shoved back into my shorts after
the brief heaven of being in her hot mouth.

There’s a low
stool at my feet and I drop onto it, my head in my hands as I wait for my heart
rate to either come down or go higher and kill me. Please come down. I don’t
want to be found dead in the library with my jeans unbuttoned and the Kama
Sutra in my hands, I’ll look even more of a perv than mac man. I leaf through
the book to pass the time, but to be honest, studying the top ten positions for
mutual sexual satisfaction doesn’t do much to help me calm down. The Butterfly,
for heightened female pleasure. Maybe I should choose that one because pleasuring
Sylvie has just given me the most exhilarating ten minutes I can remember of my
damn life, and I’m a man who has bungee jumped. I turn the book sideways to
look at The Magic Mountain, an ideal position for deeper penetration. God, I
want to penetrate Sylvie deeply. Balls deep. I want to sink my cock so far
inside her that she’ll worry it might put her back out.

Ah, the Crow,
otherwise known as the sixty-nine. I fucking love the good old sixty-nine.
There’s something about lying down and giving head while getting it that blows
me every time. I mean, I like pretty much all of the different positions for
different occasions, but every now and then, a slow and intense sixty-nine just
wrings me dry.

That’s not going
to happen here though, for several reasons, the most pressing one being that I’m
in the goddamn public library. The idea that I should go home flits through my
mind, and I practically laugh at the absurdity. What man in his right mind
would do that now in my shoes? Not this man, that much is for sure. I
fleetingly wonder if this is how it felt for my wife and her lover; this
illicit thrill. I look up and all of my sentient thoughts dissolve because she’s
just come back around the end of the aisle and she’s already unbuttoning her
blouse. I wish I could take her photo right now, something to look at later to
prove I didn't dream this because I wanted it to happen so much. She really
does look like a starlet from one of those vintage movies, all hot curves and
pin-curled blonde waves. She’s reapplied a fresh coat of siren red lipstick,
and as she draws level with me I go to get up from the stool but she puts her
hand on my shoulder.

'Stay there.' She
lifts her skirt so I can press my mouth between her legs for a few seconds
before she drops to her knees in front of me and frees my cock from my jeans
with the fingers of a practised woman.

‘Third time lucky,’
she murmurs, as I reach around inside her blouse and unclip her bra. I lift it
so her tits bounce out, and she smiles, her eyes glittering as her hand gets to
work on my shaft. With her other hand, she pulls out a book on the nearest
shelf and produces a box of condoms from behind it. This isn’t her first rodeo
in the sex reference books, clearly, and I find myself almost laughing under my
breath. Sylvie is just the most awesome, sexually aware woman I’ve ever met.

‘Did you decide
on a position, Huey?’

She looks into my
eyes when she speaks, running her tongue over her ruby lips as she waits for my
reply.

I nod, but it's a
lie. I don’t actually give a fuck how we do it by this point, I just want my
cock inside her from any position or any angle.

‘Good,’ she
murmurs, and then she puts her hand on my chest and pushes me back to lean
against the wall and lowers her lips over my cock. I’m dying, people. Or I’ve
already died and I’m in heaven. I watch that luscious mouth slide down my
length, and I don’t want any position but this one. I almost cry out when she
lets my shaft pop from her cherry red lips and straightens to kiss me hard.

‘So?’ It takes me
a minute to realise she's asking me how I want it. Oh god. How do I want it? I
take the condom she’s shaken out of the box.

‘Sit on me,’ I
gasp, ripping the foil. ‘Sit on my cock, Sylvie.’

‘I hoped you’d
say that,’ she breathes, and then she spreads her legs and lowers herself into
my lap. I look down, and I can’t breathe as I watch her position herself over
me, and then savour the rapturous, incredible moment as my cock disappears
inside her.

Oh lord. Oh my
bloody beautiful library girl, I can’t speak, or think, or do anything but feel
this overwhelming sense of intense sexual bliss. I’m inside her at last. Her
body is tight around mine as she starts to move, kissing me, and I spread my
knees wide to accommodate her ass more comfortably in my lap. I hold her close,
and even though I’m sitting down I need to thrust because this feels fucking
amazing. I grip her ass, stroke her back, and feel an almost violent need to
come hard.

‘Come, Huey,’ she
whispers against my ear. ‘You’ve earned it.’

God, I think I might
love this girl. Can you love someone for just one day? I close my eyes, my arms
around her, slamming her down hard onto me and holding her there as my hips jolt
upwards, firm, deliberate strokes as I let go. I've never come so hard or so
silently. Sylvie bites down on my ear and whimpers under her breath as her body
goes rigid, and I swear if anyone had walked near our aisle we couldn't have
possibly stopped because it was pure fucking ecstasy. When she wraps her arms
around my neck afterwards, I feel... I don’t know. Intimate. Held. We’re pretty
much strangers, but what’s just happened between us was powerful, much more
than just opportunistic casual sex. I could have paid a therapist thousands and
wasted hours picking through the bones of my failed marriage and still not felt
this absolved of my anger or resentment. Sylvie hasn’t just given me an orgasm.
She’s given me back my self-respect and glimmers of optimism for the future.

‘Thank you.’ I
reach inside her blouse and fasten her bra, then kiss her some more, slow and
deep while I button her blouse. She stands, swinging her leg over my hips, and
I fill my eyes, imprinting her image on my brain before she lowers her skirt
back into place.

‘Thank you too,
Huey.’

She slides the
box of condoms back into its hiding place behind the sex manuals as I stand and
button my jeans.  

What should I do
now? I’ve never screwed a stranger in the library before; this is uncharted
territory for me. Then I remember that while this is a new experience for me,
Sylvie has previous form.