One Fine Sunday - 1. The Library

It’s Sunday! I can’t believe its Sunday and here I am rotting away in the library! Darn you Professor Mukhuty. That guy can dole out assignments like it’s nobody’s business. How different would it have been to allow us to submit the papers on Tuesday instead of Monday! Would have been a damn sight easier if I could get an access to the University library where the required texts were in their proper places instead of me trudging along to this library where no one under the age of 50 ever ventured in their right minds?

No reading lights except for the hanging tube lights, casting an unnatural white glow over the centre of the huge table just gave me the creeps. There were wooden ladders with wheels, for us to reach to the top shelves; and believe you me, there were a few too many shelves on top of the other. Why not build a second floor instead of having like twenty rows of books per shelf?

The whole place looked like it was decorated from the set decorations for one of those period movies, you know, the ones where, to see skin, you would have to peel off at least half a dozen layers of clothing off the body; male or female. Every time I heard the clacking of heels on the cold stone floor, I expected to see the librarian rounding the corner dressed in a huge ruffled dress, with high collars and an enormous skirt.

‘Excuse me, is this seat taken?’

The soft, deep voice was definitely not of the librarian; who incidentally was a very nice young lady, dressed in a pencil skirt and a suitable while blouse. Whoever it was that asked me the question, had some real crooked sense of humour. The entire library was empty, well part from the two really ancient gentlemen near the windows and myself, and this person was asking if a seat was empty?

‘What do...’

I gasped at the sight, the smart retort dying on my lips. Blacker than the blackest eyes stared at me, a grin on pale lips that could be only described as... naughty! The sunburnt face was decorated with pale-er marks: scars. I hadn’t ever seen anyone that carried off scars that well.

Oh and ruffles? He had quite a few of them! His shirt looked like the ones from my imagination, the ones I’d seen boys wear to a few medieval themed dances: the only time those hideous frills didn't look out of place. They’d even looked weird in the restaurant when the guys had gone for dinner before getting to the event.

Talking about weird, somehow, the half unzipped leather jacket on top of the shirt and the tight, almost moulded to his butt leather trousers should have looked so; but it didn't! It didn't seem even a hair was out of the place with the guy standing in the library, right in front of me, a heavy book in his hand, totally looking in his element while he took me in with his eyes, an eyebrow cocked.

The need to touch was too much, way too much! The way his eyes wouldn’t stop roving over me, narrowing only a little when he met my own eyes. I believe if my gaze had hands, he would be stripped naked by now; naked and pressed up against me. My hands clenched into fists when he gasped, his all too kissable lips parting with the sudden escape of his breath, his free hand dropping to his side, his fingers twitching.

Dragging my eyes to where they were fixed on the area just under his intricate silver eagle carved belt buckle to his face, I saw his eyes fixed on my very uninteresting buckle, or was it a little lower? As if on cue, my cock decided it was time to draw some attention to himself, I felt him twitch and lengthen.

‘Shit!’ I hissed out. I was so painfully hard, and my cock brushing against in the inside of my pants, trying to break free of its confines just seemed to make me harder. If that was even possible.

‘Oh Fuck!’ His eyes widened at the tiny movement that I was well aware that he caught; it was kind of hard to miss with his eyes where they were fixated!

I had no idea who made the first move, a muted thud of his book hitting the table and our hands were a tangle of who could reach the other’s skin first. It was that race that left us panting, talk about exertion!

It was all too easy for him to latch onto my throat and bury his hands under my shirt, exploring every sensitive inch of me. I was too busy trying to guide him to the corner, you know, that corner of the library, where no one ever goes, well no one other than people in situations like I was in right then. I couldn’t stifle the sound that made its way out of my throat; I don't think I ever made a sound like that in my life, ever. It was somewhat of a mixture of a groan, a scream and a hiss.

‘More!’ I panted. I wanted, no... I needed more, so much more! And he was pushing all the right buttons. I hadn’t even had his jacket all the way off his shoulders; I couldn’t, not with his hands under my shirt, his long, slender fingers doing indescribable things to my nipples, my navel and the almost hairless area in between. Like I said... he was pushing, and pulling all the right buttons.

‘Unngh! Stop!’ I pushed him with all the strength I had left in my arms, which wasn’t saying much because he had been doing some very curious things to my sides; which didn't quite tickle me, but did make my hands feel like jelly while heightening the sensations in them.

He silenced me with a kiss! I know it sounds like a cliché, but that’s what he did, but the only difference was he went nowhere near my lips, he yanked my shirt up, ripping a few buttons right off that faintly tittered on the stone floor, and dove right in tongue fucking my ear: he bit, he nibbled, he probed. His hands grabbed my butt and pulled me roughly against him, our hard cocks struck each other through layers of clothing. I moaned and he gasped. The warm air on my wet ear raised goose bumps all over my neck, my arms, all the way to my legs; I almost came from the sheer ecstasy of it!

His shirt finally unlaced, when I finally realised that the sucker had no buttons, I buried my face in the chest, nipping, licking and inhaling; filling all my senses with the man in front of me. I always favoured my sense of smell when it came to choosing anything and everything that mattered to me; and this experience, this out of the body experience I was having right here, behind the Greek mythology section of the city’s oldest library had definitely managed to top that list.

He hissed loudly, hands leaving their place on my body to fist in my hair, chest heaving, when I found one of the rings that adorned his pierced nipples and didn't waste any more time toying around it, but went directly for the already sensitized nub. Looking up I saw his head thrown backwards, his reddened lower lip between his teeth; I wondered for its safety. He looked too fucking hot like that! Grabbing him by the hips, I pinned him to the wall, and started devouring his neck, just because he’d dared to expose it to me. He wrapped those strong legs of his on my waist and drew me closer; it seemed like an attempt to draw me into in his body and we shamelessly moaned and groaned as we ground our erections together.

I knew there was no way I would last long enough to get any further than we were, our bodies slick with sweat, I could feel my orgasm approaching and smelled his. I bit down on his shoulder to muffle the cry that threatened to break out of me and his lips clamped down on my over sensitive ear. Together, we bucked and gripped and rose and fell as we rode out our highs.

His eyes were wide, pupils dilated and he collapsed on me. My knees weren’t too strong either; definitely not strong enough to keep both of us upright. When my butt finally hit the cold floor, the wet feeling in my boxers made it all too real. Jeesus! I just came in my pants! I saw an irresistible hottie in the middle of the day in a public library and went for it behind the shelves like a randy teenager! I am twenty six, for crying out loud! What the hell was I thinking?

One look at the guy sitting next to me on the floor, mimicking my position with his knees drawn up, his hair dishevelled, shirt open to show his well built torso, with his back resting on the wall, and I couldn’t stop the smile that spread on my face.

He looked up at me, eyes twinkling and a lopsided grin on his face, ‘Hey!’

‘Hey yourself!’ I felt like a teenager too! My insides felt like they were liquid.

‘I got a spare helmet, if you want a ride.’ Could the dimple on his left cheek be any more prominent?

Smooth!

‘Are you for real?’ Shit! Where did that come from?

He laughed, his body rocked, his whole face changing when he did. The bad boy changed in to the warm man I knew him to be. Standing up he extended a hand to me.

‘If you want me to be Darlin'!’ He winked at me. ‘Only if you want me to be!’