You blow on the textbook's cover. Both of you cough as a plume of dust fills the air. While you hack and sputter, she only emits a few dainty sneezes. Something tells you that she's done this before, plenty of times. Well, that's to be expected. She practically lives in the library after all. When you can finally wave the debris out of your eyes, she's still standing there as if nothing happened.
“This one might as well be Biochemistry for Dummies,” she says with the slightest giggle in her voice. Something about how she referenced this one exactly twenty-six times in just as many days. Okay, so she finished her dissertation way before you did. is it really necessary for her to show it off at every possible occasion? Still, the fact that she's willing to accompany you during these long nights is almost too kind of her. Almost, except for the fact that you do her cleaning, her laundry, and schedule all her lunch dates with her friends. But hey, it's the thought that counts.
By the time you have a rough draft of your annotated bibliography finished, you realize that she's been reading over your shoulder the entire time. Not just figuratively, either. Her chin is buried right in the crook of your neck, and you can feel the frame of her glasses pressing against your cheek. Every time you try to remind her about personal space by pushing her head away, she creeps back up on you in a matter of minutes. The plastic of her glasses is warm by now, and if you didn't adore the feeling of her breath next to your ear, you'd have pushed her off of you for good and said something by now.
She glances over at your laptop. So she might have written more than that within the first two hours, but what you have is still fairly impressive. A reward is in order, she says. A bolt of electricity jolts up your spine as you suddenly feel her hand snaking its way up your thigh. Whoa girl, not here. This is the library. There are people here. She lets out one of those coy giggles that lets you know that she's not only horny, but devilishly so. That's the point, remember? Your mind flashes back to the time she confessed that she really, really wanted to do it in public. Then a flashback to the time where she convinced that fashion designer friend of hers to have a threesome with the two of you. Oh shit, you owe her, don't you?
You look back and forth, making sure nobody's around. Yes, it's late at night in the stacks, but you never know when somebody could walk by your aisle. That doesn't deter her from unzipping your pants and yanking out your member. You have to bite your lip as her hands fumble around a bit. Her clumsy handling between your legs is almost routine by now, but the added obstacle of the zipper teeth adds some bonus pain this time. Through clenched teeth you grunt something about how she needs to handle you a bit more gently. Her only response is about how she read this one in a book. Well, that's a fifty percent chance that this is going to go horribly wrong.
Her fingers play with you while she goes in for the kiss. Okay, you can reciprocate on that one, because a pair of lovers kissing in the library is innocuous enough. But right as your teeth begin to bite and pull on her lower lip, something sharp digs right into your shaft. God dammit, she didn't clip her fingernails! Without thinking, you grab onto her hair and pull it, like that would somehow signal her to be just a little bit more gentle. As you inadvertently pull her face away from yours, all you can see is another smile. This time, her lust is in overdrive. “Oh, so that's how you want it, boy? Two can play rough.”
The next thing you know, you're lying atop the table. The textbook is knocked aside and you can get a full view of her. It only now dawns on you that she's not wearing anything underneath her purple sweater vest. A girl with a larger bust would be showing off the sides of her breasts like that, but her modest size is still hidden beneath the woven fabric. She's still wearing that red striped tie she always does. Her plaid skirt seems strangely shorter than usual, but that might just be because she's got it hiked up to just above her knees. She shushes you, telling you that she has this all figured out. That should set off every alarm in your head, but the anticipation of your girlfriend about to mount you with her clothes still on drowns out everything else.
As her knees bump against the edge of the table, taking her several attempts to get on, you can see her salivating. You hastily undo the button to your pants, with barely enough time to free yourself from the confines of your zipper before she's on top of you. That clever girl, her skirt is just long enough that it covers the both of you from the waist down. Well, provided that she's the one on top. As she grinds her hips against yours, you realize that she's not wearing anything under her skirt. She had this planned all along. Her hands pin you to the table as she smiles and continues to rub her flesh against yours. She's giving you a clothed lap dance right in the library. This would blow your mind if getting caught weren't a felony. Scratch that, this is blowing your mind because it is a felony. In no time, you can feel yourself at full mast, rubbing against the warmth between her legs.
One hand goes to cover your mouth as the other reaches beneath her skirt. You try to scream through her makeshift muzzle to watch the fingernails, but she wouldn't listen if she could her you anyway. With a none too gentle grip with four points digging into your shaft, she guides you into her entrance. Her sigh fills your ear as you finally penetrate her. All you can think about is the relief that her hands won't be touching your manhood anymore, but the fact that you're snuggled inside her folds is comforting too. She gradually lowers herself onto you. She's always slow about this, though you're not sure why. You pull her body on top of yours, laying the both of you prone on the table. Her pelvis keeps sinking onto yours, each inch eliciting a sharp breath from her, onto your chest. You cut off her low hum of pleasure with your mouth, snaking your tongue against hers. Her moans vibrate down you as she finally envelops you whole.
A moment passes as she grabs two fistfuls of your shirt. Your hands can't help but clutch her head against your body. You relish in the feeling of her breath on your collar. Her breaths become short and ragged as she starts moving. You can see her skirt, splayed out on the table, slowly slink into the air as she moves her body upwards. Her slick walls practically slurp your member as they move off. In only a moment, she lowers herself back down, swallowing you in her warmth again. This shouldn't be any different than the hundreds of other times you've had sex with her, but the thrill of doing something so public is clouding your vision now. It's as if you want to get caught and have a crowd witness the two of you fucking, jaws open at the spectacle but too shocked to actually stop you. That thought, the idea of the world witnessing how much you love your girlfriend, is what sends you into a frenzy.
Without abandon, you thrust up into her. It jolts the table, and she lets out a gasp of surprise as you bury yourself in her mid-air. The skirt is only barely touching the table now. Any more and the both of you would be exposed, but that's kind of the point. Her hands press your chest to the table while yours grab a firm hold of her hips. She may be on top, but you're going to take control of this ride. You lift when your pull out, pull her down when you thrust up. Each time your bodies meet, she lets out a whimper and you grunt something resembling her name. You can feel yourself pulse inside of her as she tried to milk your body for all it's worth.
The next time you lower her body onto yours, she leans over you. She doesn't go for a kiss, but simply leans her forehead against yours. Your glasses clash against hers as you realize this is the first time that's ever happened. After a few blinks, you realize that her cheeks are even more flushed than after a triple shot of tequila. Her arms are wrapped around your shoulders and she almost sounds like she's hyperventilating. Oh right, that's the point of no return. Your hips pick up the pace. Your thrusts turn into slams, as the sound of a library table being abused begins to echo through the library. Your full weight rams into her over and over again. She begins to whimper, a noise that is summarily stopped when she bites your neck. A high pitched squeal resonates through your ears and her fingernails dig into you shoulder blades, but all you can think about is the tight squeezing around your length. She's tighter than she's ever been, and all you can do is gurgle incoherently as you try to keep it inside.
Oh shit. Now it dawns on you that you're not wearing a condom.
The warmth in your body is turning into a nova, and it's centered right between your legs. Watching your girlfriend orgasm always bring you to the tipping point. But not right now. Think about apple orchards, or anything to get your mind off of... No, it's not going to work at all. All you can do is throw her body off of yours. In a stroke of amazing luck – one that could only follow the luck of not being caught fucking in public – she lands in a chair, sitting straight up. Well, she was the one who sprung this on you, and payback's a bitch.
You stand on shaky knees, ready to use your hands to finish the job. But that turns out to be unnecessary. The sight of her lust-filled eyes looking up at you through her coke bottle glasses does it without any manual stimulation. Her fingernails dig in one more time to hold you steady as you release. Your seed bursts out as pleasure pummels your entire body. Wave after wave pours out, and you have no acuity to aim as your eyes are clenched shut in the throes of an orgasm. Her voice filters into your ears, the surprise of being bathed in warm semen so suddenly. But it's definitely a squeal of enjoyment. As your breathing slows down, you can feel the twitching between your legs slow down. When your eyes finally open, you can see her in all her glory. She's still fully clothed, and somehow you managed to avoid staining them. Well, except for her glasses, which are absolutely clouded with your juice. Oh, and you managed to shoot some into her hair. Strangely enough, you can only think about how much of a pity it is that you mussed up the cute pink highlights in her bangs.
She pulls the unwieldy glasses off of her face. With a horny smile and giggle, her tongue lashes out and cleans one lens of your thick semen. You knew she liked taking it in the mouth, but there was something just slightly overboard about this. Or at least, it would be overboard without the context of what the two of you just did in public. A finger traces an abstract pattern on your chest as she giggles. Oh god, that means she wants more. And now.
“Why don't you see what happens when you write a table of contents?” A thought passes through your head about how the last thing you want is to push your luck. But at the same time, if she's this horny in the library, there is that time where you told her you'd like to try anal...
