Tales of Lust and Magic (7 page)

As she picked the pencil case up in what I was sure was deliberate slow-motion, I was exposed to the sight of her ample cleavage, thrust forward and offering itself to me for display purposes only.

“Thaaaanks...” I blurted out, tearing my eyes away from her breasts and feeling a deep blush run from my head to my toes.

“You’re welcome...Rose. Just don’t let it happen again.”

I was dumbfounded, firstly because she knew my name and secondly because she had warned me not to drop my pencil case again – how absurd! Or had she been referring to the gazing at her breasts part? I felt dizzy with the summer heat, the literature in front of me and, most of all, dizzy with having had her so close and now being so far. I tried my best to concentrate but it was in vain, so I gave up. I begrudgingly packed my books up for the day and started to make my way out of the library, dazed by the afternoon’s antics and my longing for her. My bag seemed heavier than usual and as I trudged along I wondered how that could possibly be. It was only as the security alarm stated ringing, that I realised what I’d done.

Why did it have to be her, I wondered? She came marching up to me, with a very stern expression on her face.

“The bag please, Miss Black!” she demanded, offering a perfectly manicured hand to me.

I gave her the bag, explaining to her, “I’m sorry... I just packed everything up without thinking...”

By now she was shaking her head in total disapproval, pulling out several books and checking for their stamp.

“Five books, Miss Black. You have tried to steal five books from this library.”

“Steal?” I repeated, incredulous. “It was just an accident.”

She was not listening now, she was just fumbling with a radio, clearly preparing to contact a superior to take matters further.

“Please, this is not necessary...” I interrupted, some audacity from deep inside of me springing up. I dared to touch her slender arm as I questioned. “Can’t we just sort this out between the two of us?”

“Very well,” she acquiesced with a deep sigh. “Come back here at ten tonight. I will be locking up alone. I will find a way to put you to use to compensate for this crime.”

Crime? Was she crazy? These were just tattered old books.

“Fine,” I agreed. “I will be here at ten.”

“On the dot,” she reaffirmed in an accent which I now realised was very clearly French. How she dominated the English language!

I spent the entire journey home wondering how I was going to pay for my apparent ‘crime’. I envisaged spending the whole night stacking shelves, categorising books and those kinds of mundane tasks that obviously filled her every second. There was no wonder she looked so miserable, I thought to myself. What she really needed was a little indulgence, thrills of some kind, administered to her by a handsome man or some other keen admirer. I smiled, imagining myself applying for the role of eager lover. If only she knew!

Back at home, I found that my flat was empty. This was better for me, as I didn’t want to have to give any explanations to anybody about where I was going. When I thought about our twilight rendezvous, I felt a cool shudder ripple through my over-heated body. I needed a cold shower to freshen up my body and my mind, for I felt such a peculiar mix of arousal and shame. This feeling was so very new to me; I had never been made to feel this way by the male of the species. Men seemed so two-dimensional in comparison to this elusive and enigmatic woman, for while I craved only the physical attributes of the guys I knew, this was both a physical and psychological yearning. I wanted to know more about her and to explore her both physically and mentally. I let these thoughts wash over me as the cool water made my nipples tingle and my body ache more than ever. I caressed my body with the most divinely scented suds and let my hands linger for just a few seconds between my trembling thighs. I knew I wasn’t going to able to hold out; I needed to satisfy myself right then, so I pointed the water jet at my clitoris, already throbbing in anticipation at the evening in store. The unrelenting power of the jet sent waves of orgasm flooding through me and I thought of her as I collapsed under the downpour.

As I made my way out of the shower, I caught my reflection in the steamy mirror. My face was positively glowing with the post-orgasmic bliss, so much so that I was pretty sure she’d suspect what I’d been up to. I checked the time and the ticking hands told me that I had just an hour to get back to her. I started to prepare myself for her, massaging my sun-kissed body with a luxurious body cream, drying my hair into soft waves and finally applying just a touch of make-up, a few strokes of mascara and eye-liner to draw her in with my eyes, followed by the sweetest and shiniest of lip- glosses for when she claimed her prize. I laughed out loud at the audacity of my fantasy, reminding myself that I was going to stack shelves and nothing more. Yet in spite of this knowledge, I couldn’t help but spritz myself with the most subtle and freshest of fragrances, the kind that lingers in the air after you have gone. I made sure that I had the mintiest of kisses at my disposal, should she so desire. With such preparations I was almost done, save for the choice of outfit for the soirée. I rummaged through my wardrobe in desperation, for I had no idea what to wear. Once almost every fabric of varying colour, shape and style was strewn over my bedroom floor, I came to a decision. I picked out a short red strappy summer dress, short enough to reveal my shapely bronzed pins and tight enough to hint at a firm and curvaceous behind. I was being provocative and I revelled in the sensation. I have to add that due to the humidity of the summer evening I decided to forsake my bra, leaving my breasts to freely exhibit their pert roundness. My modesty was concealed by a little black satin thong, admittedly covering very little, for I enjoyed feeling the cool evening breeze whisper over every inch of me.

Very quickly I was out of the house and floating into the dusky air. I seemed to fly to her, my wings propelled by the adrenalin pumping through every single vein and bringing me closer to what I fearfully longed for. The sound of the clock chimes confirmed my punctuality and I approached the library door, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach looping the loop time and time again. Through the darkness of the building I could see her tall silhouette making its way to me, at a steady yet determined pace. She seemed a confident predator, ready to skilfully ensnare her prey.

“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.