The Library. Part 1

It’s story time boys and girls! I wrote this one just for you. I hope you enjoy! Watch out for Part 2. Coming Soon. Pun entirely intended.

Janet was entering the university’s library for the fifth time that day. She was in her last semester and her final capstone project was nearing completion. The research component was intense. The library was her bastion of solitude. Most of what she needed was online, although some of the publications were only available in the library itself. But it was the peace and quiet she enjoyed. In many places, the only sound she could hear was the gentle hum of the ventilation system and the slight buzz of the overhead lights. She could go hours before seeing another person. As she wound her way back to the main avenues where the more common books lay, the sound of voices grew louder and louder until she was back in the throng of students.

During her time at the university, Janet had spent surprisingly little time at the library. She liked being outdoors on her laptop near the fountains, or in the commons. The entrance to the library was a large open area that extended from the ground floor to the ceiling five floors above. Balconies from the several floors ringed the area tightly with glass railings. She was surprised to find couches at the entrance to the library commonly crowded with young men, not the usual type you’d find at the library. They all had their cell phones out and seemed obviously excited about something. But Janet usually passed them by without giving them a second thought.

One day, Janet was waiting for her friend in the foyer and was casually glancing around. It was a magnificent sight. The building was exceptionally tall and looking up at the ceiling from the ground floor made her dizzy and made her heart pound from vertigo. When she looked up, she saw something else. From her vantage point and thanks to the glass railing, she was able to see directly up the skirt of a young woman walking by on the third floor. She blushed. How embarrassing for that girl! She looked around to see if there were others. Only a few wore skirts, but it didn’t matter if they were long or short, you could see up them. Sometimes, very far up them. She caught a bright pink flash of a girl’s thong, blue striped panties, and one she wasn’t sure had anything on at all. That’s when it clicked for her. The boys. The boys knew about this eye candy all along and were snatching pictures of it. Janet was disgusted and outraged. This was a violation of these poor girls! She stormed away angrily off to the secluded recesses of her research.

She flipped through books, fuming inside. Eventually, she calmed down enough to ask herself the question, why am I so angry about this? Obviously, it was a violation of those girls’ privacy. Yes. That was a good reason. But why am I so angry about it? She looked down at herself. She wore a loose, baggy t-shirt and a pair of faded black leggings that were speckled with her cat’s white hair. Her hair was up in a ragged bun. She couldn’t remember the last time she had worn makeup. She still showered and cleaned herself, but Janet could not deny that she was an unattractive mess. She sat in a depressive funk for the rest of her time there.

Janet went home that evening. Her cat greeted her at the door. The rest of her rented apartment was quiet and dark. She drew herself a bath and peeled off her frumpy clothes. She gingerly climbed into the hot bath, her skin instantly turned bright pink. She wasn’t unattractive. She was on the skinny side and her hip bones protruded sharply from her torso. But her skin was smooth and unblemished. She had let the dark tangle of hair between her legs grow jungle wild and it was in need of a trim. Her breasts were medium sized. The tips of her nipples floated above the water like a pair of tiny pink islands. They were soft but still had a firmness about them. She could go without a bra if she wanted to. If she wanted to . . . what did that mean? What did she want?

She stood up in the bath and water rained down from her body. Droplets gathered like dew in the dark bush between her legs. She got out of the bath and walked over to the sink. She kept a pair of tiny scissors in the medicine cabinet which she quickly found. Her hair was a wild tangle, but soft from the bath. She grabbed a tuft and held them in the fingers of her left hand. The sound the scissors made was satisfying as it cut through the thick mass of curly tangles. Pull and snip. Pull and snip. She cut shorter and shorter until a fine stubble remained. She trimmed carefully around the left of her labia. It already looked a million times better. She grabbed some hair conditioner and worked up a thin lather. She massaged it into what stubble remained over her mound. The conditioner was cold against her hot flesh. It sent a shiver passing over her skin. It was exhilarating. She grabbed a fresh razor from the cabinet.

Some rogue hairs were growing on the inside of her thigh and they quickly surrendered to the razor blade. She’d only meant to get those but soon she began to encroach upon the borders bit by bit. It was so easy to do. She stood there with her legs awkwardly parted and her head dropped down over her parts. She took extra care when she went over her lips. It was so sensitive that the pain would be outrageous if she cut herself. Before she stopped herself she was bare. She hadn’t fully shaved herself since . . . well, since forever. She looked even more naked than she thought possible in the mirror.

She climbed back in the bath and the warm water once again washed over her. She didn’t realize how cold she had become outside of the water’s embrace. The conditioner had left her slippery over her bare mound and she reached down to wash it off. She felt so smooth that she couldn’t help but touch it. She could feel every detail of her lips below the water. It was magnificent. Janet was become aroused. It wasn’t just the warm water that was bringing a flush to her cheeks. She drained the water and stepped out. She wanted to take this to the bed.

She lay freshly dried on the bed with her hair still hanging limp and wet. She parted her legs and could hear the sound the wetness made as she did so. Awkwardly at first, she reached down there. Her fingertips were wrinkled from the bath but the slick wet inside of her sex was smooth as could be. She took in a little gasp. It felt so good. It had been forever since she touched herself and there was a longing there she didn’t know she had. There was a strangeness to everything as well. Being freshly shaved, it almost felt like her parts belonged to someone else. The thought sent a thrill throughout her, a sharp tingle rooted deep inside.

Her clitoris was a firm bud which she stroked with the side of her thumb. Each rub sent Janet deeper into a trance of pleasure. She took the middle finger of the same hand and slid it deep inside her. The rough surface of her g-spot was engorged and ready for pleasure. She pressed upward on it with her middle finger and she continued to rub her thumb over her clit.

Janet’s mind wandered to the realm of fantasy. She imagined she was back in the library naked. The public exposure frightened and aroused her at the same time. She lay on her back on the floor between the shelves of books rubbing and moaning like she was right now. One of those boys with the cell phone camera from the lobby wandered by and stood fully clothed beside her. He took out his camera and filmed her. Soon another joined him. She rubbed harder and harder, switching hands to take the strain off, the whole time pressing hard against her g-spot. Soon she was surrounded on the library floor by a dozen strangers, each filming her.

One reached down and unzipped his jeans. He took out a hard pink cock and began to stroke it. So did another. And another. They were all standing over stroking themselves vigorously, all the time still filming. Janet felt exposed. In real life,  her juices flowed out of her down the crack of her bottom on to the bedsheets soaking them with sticky wetness. She was so swollen and engorged with passion that nothing felt the same as it usually did down there. Back in her fantasy, one of the boys spasmed and a gush of white cum flowed out of him in wild spurts. It landed on her chest in hot drops. Another came violently, this time it splashed on her face, she could feel some of it land on her lips. It tasted salty as she licked it off. Another came on her stomach and another cascaded over her hands that worked between her legs. It rained down on her from a dozen different directions. And at that moment, she exploded with her own orgasm.

Janet’s legs shook as they lost all their strength. She felt herself contracting deep inside her vagina. She heard someone moaning loudly and only then did she realize that it was her. She’d never heard herself make those noises before. Something about that fantasy had unlocked a facet of herself she didn’t know existed. Later as she lay spent on her bed, the warm wetness cooling between her legs, in the calm serenity only available post-orgasm she determined to make herself an object of desire for those men. She would give them a show they’d never forget.