Library Lover

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It can be hard to identify the beginning of a memory. Life doesn’t stop, and experiences accumulate, but we remember precious few. Looking back, my memory started when I recognized that I cared about my outfit.

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His comment was cute, and sincere, and funny, but my giggle was extended because of my own thought process: I knew I shouldn’t have cared. But I did. I was happy that my attire was friendly, maybe even a bit flirty. I laughed because it shouldn’t have mattered that I was wearing a bright yellow sleeveless wrap dress, but I sure loved it when he called it a sundress. I love the sun.

“Are you serious?” I smiled.

“Yep – totally serious.”

I paused to consider his thought, then wondered if it was just a good line, so I asked him to repeat it.

“Repeat it?”

“Yes, I just want to be sure I get it.”

“It’s not rocket science, gorgeous.”

And there it was, the fifth time he commented positively on my appearance. But I would not be put off. “I don’t care what type of science it is – I’d like to hear it again”.

“I think you’re dressed for that book. It’s a beautiful fall day, warmer than usual, and you’re rocking a sundress. You’re holding on to a season, Love, but that season is passing. You’re casting wonderful shadows backward, but the future is inevitable. That’s how you look, and that’s your book.”

I was a bit shocked. Not just that he knew the book, but because he seemed too young for such a deep perspective. “I’ve never focused on the good-bye aspect, I’ve focused more on the philosophy.” I replied.

“You have to start with the good-bye! Almustafa dishes on all those topics because homeboy is about to leave.” I was surprised by how well he knew Gibran’s The Prophet. “And I think that’s the trick, sweetheart: all good-byes should leave us with memories.”

My good-bye was almost overdue. Afternoon’s light had long faded and I needed to leave my sanctuary, the library, and head home. “I really like your perspective. Thanks for sharing it. I have to head home.”

“Not yet.” He pleaded as ataşehir escort bayan I stood.

“I’m afraid I have no choice.”

“Alright. But I’ll walk you to your car.” I was flattered, but shook my head no.

“I won’t take no for an answer. It’s dark outside, the parking lot isn’t well-lit, and a pretty girl should never walk alone.”

I smiled both my acceptance and my surprise. I haven’t been called a girl for a long time, and certainly not by someone less than half my age.

We walked in silence at first. Once I played through the randomness of our meeting, and the ease of our conversation, I became aware of his presence. His face was kind, and almost familiar. His gait was strong, and his movements confident. He was tall with a runner’s body. He spoke as we left the building.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?” I asked.

“Every guy in there wanted to be me. It was fucking awesome.”

“I’m not sure …”

“Yes you are. They wanted to be me because you’re so hot.”

I was becoming a bit nervous, and then more so when he put his hand in the small of my back. “Don’t tell me that you don’t notice how men look at you.”

I was in stunned silence as he continued. “Seriously, girl, everyone wants you.”

His comments were less flirty now, and more overtly sexual. And even with the Police Station right across the street, I was concerned with the darkness enveloping my car, which was still a good distance across the lot.

“Everything about you – from your blonde hair, to that tight body wrapped in that sundress, to your gorgeous legs screams goddess.”

His hand was firm on my back as we continued to walk. “I don’t want this walk to end.”

“That’s really sweet, but we’re almost at my car.”

The edge of the lot was hedged and I had backed into the spot. When we arrived he moved me quickly to the back of the car. We were invisible. “Not yet, baby girl, I don’t want you to leave.” He whispered.

I shouldn’t have given in, but I didn’t think he would hurt me. “All good-byes should leave us with escort kadıköy memories.” My heart was racing, and when he pulled close to kiss me I stopped him.

“I’m married.” And though newly separated, this was still true.

“I don’t care.”

When he tried to kiss me again I turned my head – and he turned the rest of my body. Now facing the car, he began to kiss the back of my neck and my ears. I felt that he’d stop if I asked, but I didn’t ask.

My lack of struggling encouraged him, and my moan when he grabbed my breast told him all he needed to know.

My nipples responded to his assault, and he responded by squeezing them harder. Unconsciously, I pushed my hips back into his. When he felt this he grinded hard into my trapped body.

Pulling my body back slightly, he reached around and began to rub me through my dress. The constant attention of his hands and lips were all that I could focus on, and I gave myself to the moment. If he couldn’t tell from my breathing and movements, he certainly knew how excited I was when he hiked up my dress.

“Goddam, girl, you’re fucking dripping.” To cement his point, he raised his fingers to my lips. I sucked on them.

He pulled my panties down to my knees, and lifted the back of my dress. I heard his zipper open and his pants get pushed down. He grabbed my hips, and although I couldn’t separate my legs very far, it didn’t matter. He ran his cock through my wetness until it found home. “The time for teasing is over, baby girl.”

But teasing is what he did. I pushed back on him, but he let no more than a hint of his head enter me. I soon understood. He draped his right arm over my shoulder and took hold of my left breast. He then circled my waist with his left hand and began rubbing my clit.

While stimulating me, he held me down. He did this to prepare me for his cock. With his first thrust, his girth almost made me scream. His second thrust exposed his length. The third put him in place, close to my body, legs straddling mine, cock buried painfully deep.

He started slowly, but that wouldn’t bostancı escort last. In short order he was fucking me, and I was meeting his thrusts – cautiously. It was a tightly constrained dance, each of his movements designed to give me pleasure, and I responded as any animal would. I exploded on him.

When I did he pressed deep into me and stopped thrusting. His fingers and lips continued to work on me, but he allowed my contractions to work him deeper inside. When my climax subsided, he began again.

His fucking was animalistic, powerful, passionate. The sound of his body slapping mine, and the feelings he was forcing my body to experience was almost too much. I thought I might climax again before him, but I was wrong. His final thrust lifted me to the tips of my toes, and the pressure of his release signaled the start of mine.

Our bodies bucked together for another minute, and it might have been two before I was down off my tiptoes. I could still feel him when he pulled from me – the warm air rushing to fill the void. I remained facing the car as he pulled up my panties.

The reality of the moment was setting in. Although an amazing experience, he was a stranger, and too young for me, and my first lover since my separation. I was starting to put my world back together as he spoke.

“Thank you, baby girl, that was amazing. You are amazing, Sandy, I’ll never forget this.”

My blood ran cold as he walked away. I never told him my name.

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Within a few days I had convinced myself that I must have let my name slip early in the conversation. And other than being embarrassed by my behavior, and grateful that we weren’t caught, I was coming to terms with it. Or so I thought as I did the dishes.

I heard the front door open, and my beautiful daughter bellow. “Mom! Guess who is back in town.” And with those words I knew. My blood ran cold again as I mouthed the name Jason while she yelled it.

“Hey Mrs. P.” He said, as he walked into the kitchen. “Hi Jason.” I replied to my library lover. “You look so different I hardly recognize you.”

“I get that a lot, Mrs. P.”

“Mom – he’s not just visiting! He’s back.”

“Is that true, Jason?”

“Sure is. I took a few gap years, but now I’ve been accepted to Merrimack. We’ll be neighbors again for at least four years.”

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