Genel

The Girl in the Library

Amateur

Author’s note:

I didn’t particularly want to add a preface to any story, as many authors do, but feel the need to add one here. A comment was recently made on Chapter 1 of “Kim’s New Life.” The subject was “Too Wordy,” and the comment was “I had to start skimming to maintain interest. Too descriptive. After a brief description, move the story forward.” If anyone else feels the same way, you should stop reading here and find another story.

I like “wordy.” I intend to include sufficient information in the stories that I write (and want the same in stories I read) so that one can visualize backgrounds, what is happening in and around a particular scene, etc. I am writing for the totality of entertainment, not just for the sex. You either like a story or you do not like it. Whatever your taste, I do not think it is acceptable to berate a writer just because you do not like a particular story. Comment, but do not be negative.

This story is listed under the “Lesbian Sex” category, because Literotica does not have a straight “Lesbian” category. If you are looking for lots of sex, you won’t find any until near the end. Any additional “chapters” or connective story to this one will probably have more sex as well as light bondage and maybe some light discipline, but no S&M.

There is a saying attributed to the poet John Lydgate and made famous by Abraham Lincoln. I will requote but make one change. I will substitute “please” for the word “fool.”

“You can please some of the people all of the time and all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time.”

If I enough readers like “The Girl in the Library, I will continue it.

For those who asked for more of “Kim,” I have been quite busy lately but will continue it or add a new story with all of the same characters, but just not in the next couple weeks. Thanks for your patience.

And thanks to all of you who have taken the time to comment on “Kim’s New Life.”

Thank you,

JM

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I was surprised to see her walking through the entrance again. It was already 5:45 and the library closes at 6 pm on Fridays. Doesn’t she know that? I could see a look on her face that seemed to be one of annoyance. I couldn’t be positive, of course, but her facial muscles were tight, and her eyes were focused on, well, nothing. It was, sort of, a blank stare, but, on the other hand, maybe one of anger. She had departed less than an hour ago and was back.

There are, basically three reasons why I was so aware of her presence, First, she was the only human being, besides yours truly, in the library. Well, there was one other person, a full-time employee, but she was currently in the office at the rear of the building.

Very few students use the facility this late on a Friday. That’s why we close at 6 on weekends. Monday through Thursday we remain open until 10 pm. Second, she has been here, at some point, during nearly every shift I’ve worked over these first two weeks of school. She has always sat at the same study desk, which was to my right and within my line-of-sight. What caused me to notice her more, though, was that the entrance door was to my left. To get to the study desk she had to pass my desk when she entered or exited. I always watched each person when they entered and noticed where they went. Being fully aware of what was happening in the library was part of my job. There was something about her, in a good way, that always captured my attention.

What I didn’t mention is that I am a full-time student and a part time employee, at the university library. My position is at the reception/help desk. While my job is necessary, I am not overworked. The majority of students don’t need my assistance and the check-in, check-out station is automated and a few feet in front of my desk. I do get involved helping students by working 12-16 hours per week, squeezing my work schedule in between my classes. Of course, I only have to do this ‘squeezing’ once a semester after my class schedule is set. This semester the library has me scheduled for 16 hours per week. As you will read later, my parents assist with my living arrangements. They also give me an allowance each month. Working at the library provides extra spending money.

A little information on the library student-worker scheduling might be helpful here and/or later in my story. Because the majority of classes are held in the morning and early afternoon, Monday through Friday shifts for student workers are 2 hours long from 8 am until 2 pm then 4 hours until closing. On the weekend there are two 4-hour shifts, 8-12 and 2-6. With a 2-hour shift in between.

Currently in my Junior year, my class schedule is lighter than in my first two years. I only need 4 classes (12 credit hours) per semester to graduate. All are in my major or minor. I already had 87 credit hours completed (counting the A.P. classes) by the end of last year. I could take one or two more classes 18 yaş porno because here, like in most colleges or universities, full time students taking 12 to 18 hours pay one flat fee for tuition. So, if I added one or two additional courses, they would be at no extra cost (except for books and maybe a special fee). I did take 18 hours in each of my first four semesters and matriculated with 15 credits for Advanced Placement (A.P.) courses from high school. I consider myself somewhat intelligent. I graduated high school at age 17 with a 3.8 grade point average. I opted for 4 classes this semester. I wanted to ‘take it easy’ for at least one semester. Employers want workers who engaged in extracurricular activities in school, so, I joined one intramural activity each semester for the first four semesters, volleyball (covered 2 semesters), basketball (at which I’m horrible) and, yes, bowling.

For those not familiar with college courses, a credit hour is a class attended for one hour per week for 15 weeks. Most classes are 3 credits each, but some may be 1, 2, or even 4. Most 3 credit classes are held for one hour on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, or 1.5 hours on Tuesday and Thursday. Some, but not many 3-hour classes, are one hour long on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. In the past, many classes adhered to the Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday schedule. Some classes are also held at night. Oh, to make it crazy, a one-hour class normally lasts only 50 minutes.

On the average, one needs 120 credits to graduate. Thirty of these would be in a major field of study and 18 in a minor field. The balance would be in support courses (courses not within a major field but required for the major. An example might be a foreign language. And there are approximately 30 hours of free electives (anything you want). All of this, put together, give you what is considered a ‘well rounded education.’

The university in which I am enrolled is in a small community in the Southeast and is small itself, as universities go, with about 2,500 undergraduate and 600 graduate students. I picked it because of its size and its location in the South (no snow) and the small city it is in. My home is in the North East and I don’t like the cold winters.

Back to ‘her.” She appeared to be slightly taller than my 5’4″, with long. classic red hair usually pulled back in a ponytail, cute, chiseled face, not skinny, not fat, but well proportioned. Her eyes were a brilliant emerald green. She wore no makeup (nor did she need any) except for flesh tone lipstick (maybe it was just a gloss). She seemed a little older, so I assumed she was a graduate student. We never talked during the 6 to 10 times I’ve seen her, except for simple greetings and farewells on her entrance or exit. I did love her husky voice, though.

When she left about an hour earlier, she was wearing a pastel shirt, stretch jeans and flats. She usually wore slacks or jeans. Ok, for some reason I always noticed what she was wearing. When she returned this time, she was wearing a tight sweater, tight shorts and white sandals, so she had changed. Her hair was still damp and not in a ponytail, leading me to assume she just had a shower. A triad of facts, prominent nipples, bouncing breasts, and apparent lack of a strap across her back made it fairly obvious she was not wearing a bra. I had never notice this before. And why was I even noticing it now. I’m not into girls.

Rather than opening her books to study, she crossed her arms on the desk and laid her head on them. As I watched her, I noticed her upper body twitch every once in a while.

Promptly at 6, I locked the front door of the library, preventing anyone else from entering. I walked over to her, pulled up a chair and set down beside her. “Excuse me. I hate to bother you, but I am closing the library. You will need to leave.”

A meek “Ok,” was her only reply as she started to lift her head. I immediately saw that she had been crying. The sleeves of her sweater were damp, and tears were still in her eyes.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

She said, “No,” and put her head back down.

“Look, I don’t mean to prod but I am going to. It is obvious you have been crying. That is always an indication that something is amiss. I’ve always found that it helps to talk about one’s problems. Talking may not fix anything, but it can ease the pain. You weren’t gone long enough to get anything to eat. Why don’t we go to one of the nearby burger joints and talk about it? Besides, I really do have to throw your ass out the door so I can lock up.

She sat up straight, looked at me, grinned, hopefully because of the way I phrased my last sentence (on purpose), and said, “Ok, no need to throw me out. I’ll leave quietly.” Then she laughed.

Following my lead, she stood up, picked up her books and she quickly took two steps towards the front door.

“No, not that way,” I said. I’ve already locked that door. We have to exit out the back. Just give 3d porno me a second to get my things from the front desk.”

“Ok.”

The restaurant was a leisurely, ten-minute stroll from the library. Other than me asking, “Is this Ok,” and her positive reply, nothing was said during that walk. We placed our orders, found a corner booth away from others and sat across from one another. Had we sat side by side we probably could have talked sotto voce if anyone sat in the next booth, but I wanted to look at her while we conversed.

Let’s get the formalities out of the way. I’m Raegan Green; Junior.” I stuck out my hand.

She shook it, and said, “Junior? Don’t normally hear a woman named ‘junior.'”

“I started laughing. “No! No! I meant I am a Junior in school.”

She added to my laughter. A couple customers turned to see why we were making so much noise. Finally, still holding my hand, she said, “Oh, how stupid of me. I’m Sydney Conrad; Freshman.”

“Freshman? You look too old to be a Freshman. I figured you to be in graduate school.”

“Watch with the ‘old’ word, girl. Some of us antiques don’t take to it too well,” she retorted with an attempted Southern drawl. For the record, I’m an ancient 28. More laughter followed and the customers turned around again.

“We had better tone it down,” I said, “or they will be tossing us out of here before we eat.”

“Thanks,” she said. “It helped to laugh. I feel a little better already.”

Our food was delivered at that moment. I started to unwrap my burger and said, “Ok, I think we can consider ourselves to be friends now. Are you ready to tell me what was or is wrong?”

“I’m not really ready, but you are right. It will probably help for me to vent and get it out of my system. You need to promise you won’t repeat it, though.”

“I promise.”

“My problem is about my roommate, but I’d like to share something about myself first because that is somewhat relevant to the situation and my ‘old’ age as a Freshman.” We both grinned at my faux pas.

“I was a cheerleader in high school and as one would expect, my boyfriend was an all-around jock. We got drunk at a party in the house of another cheerleader (her parents were out of town). One thing led to another and I ended up pregnant, although I didn’t realize it until just after graduation.

“We both had planned to go to college, but he didn’t get accepted anywhere because of grades and his athletic ability wasn’t good enough to get a scholarship. I was accepted to two schools but had to decline when I discovered I was pregnant, because my parents said I was on my own. We decided to get married. I miscarried two months later. We were never meant to be together and divorced six months later. We married so the baby would, at least, be legitimate. The divorce was amicable, and we are still friends.

“I still wanted to get a higher education, so decided to work and save some money so I could. My parents and I reconciled, but they still wouldn’t help me financially. They are staunch Catholics and said I burnt my financial bridges by getting pregnant.

“So, to make a long story short, I applied here, was accepted and was able to get a small scholarship. The money I saved while working was enough to pay for a shared dorm room, but not a single. I have applied for a couple part time jobs in town and think I will get one of them. If I do, I might be able to afford a single room next semester or maybe an efficiency apartment in town.

“About my roommate. Like many Freshmen, she just graduated high school, so she is young and not really ready for college. The big problem is her high school boyfriend is also enrolled here. They are both away from home and think they can do anything they want. From my vantage point, all they want to do is make out. She won’t go to his room because he has a male roommate, of course. So, they spend most of their time together in our room, supposedly to study. All they seem to study is how to slobber over one another. I’ve even caught them having sex when I walked in.

“You might find this funny, but I went to a local motel, said my husband had checked in, gave him a room number and told him the ‘Do Not Disturb’ placard was missing. He just reached under the desk and handed me a new one. I gave it to my roommate and asked her to hang it on the door when they were having sex, so I wouldn’t interrupt again and embarrass myself. I’m not sure, but she must hang that damn sign out when she wakes up and takes it in when she goes to bed. Thankfully, he doesn’t spend the night. That’s why I spend most of my time in the library, studying, when I am not in class.

“What happened today that caused you to return so quickly and had you so upset?”

“Now that I have calmed down a little, I guess I will admit the incident might have been partially my fault. Grace Rogers, my roommate, told me she would be out until 6, so when I got back to the room, I knew I would have time to shower before Porno 64 video going to the student union. That’s where I spend my time on weekends after the library closes. I hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob just in case she did return with him. When I stepped out of the bathroom, hair still wet, they were standing in the middle of the room. Not just standing. They were lip-locked together. Her back was facing me, and her shirt had already been tossed on the bed. Not only that, her boyfriend had just finished unfastening the clasp of her bra. Luckily, I had wrapped my towel around myself or they would have been getting a show.

Out of surprise, more than anything, I screamed, “What the fuck are you doing here? Didn’t you see the Do Not Disturb sign I hung on the door?”

Grace broke off the kiss and quickly turned around. Her bra, now loose, fell to the floor and I was seeing her, naked from the waist up, for the first time. The bimbo wasn’t the least bit embarrassed. Her tits were… how should I say this…well developed. What really caught my attention were the bar bells in her nipples. I had never before seen nipples that were pierced and quickly thought how sexy they were.

Responding to my outburst, Grace calmly said, “To answer your first question, my dear roomie, what does it look like? We were planning to fuck. And, as for your second question, I did see your damn sign and simply thought I forgot to remove it when I left. How the hell was I to know you put it there. It seems to me that you should get signs with different colors, so we know who hangs them.”

My mouth was hanging partly open during her discourse and I was staring at Grace’s pierced nipples. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. Grace could see that my gaze was directed in the area of her tits, so, in a pompous manner, she put her hands under her tits, lifted them slightly, and said, “You like them, Raegan? I’ll give you a chance to sample them when I’m finished with Jim. Or, if you want, you can join us and sample them while he fucks me.”

“Her comment was, obviously meant to humiliate me and it worked. Then I got pissed when they both started laughing. I opened my dresser drawer, grabbed the first clothes I could put my hands on and dashed back to the bathroom to dress.” With one hand she gestured towards herself and said, “You see the clothes I grabbed. At least they match. I shouldn’t admit this, but I wanted out of that room so badly, I forgot to grab underwear, because it was in a different drawer. My ‘dirties’ were still in the bathroom, but I didn’t want to put them back on.

“When I came back out, they were already fucking. At least they were under the sheet. I giggled when I saw his hips moving up and down under it while I slipped into my shoes. I got out of there as fast as I could and headed to the library. I forgot about the 6 O’clock closing or I would have gone to the student union.”

Unconsciously, I reached across the table and placed my hand on top of hers. I wondered about the tingle I felt. I’m not into girls. I think I said that before. “Sydney, I’m pleased you came back to the library. It might have been fate, but since I was closing up, you got a chance to discuss your situation with someone. I have an idea, but I would rather discuss it in a quieter setting. Why don’t we go to my place? It’s only a couple blocks away. You can relax there for a while until you feel like going back.”

“Sounds good to me. It’s either that or the student union. I’m not going back to my room right now.”

Fifteen minutes later we stopped in front of a small bungalow and I said, “Welcome, Sydney, to my humble abode.”

“Wow, you rent this.”

“Actually, I own it.”

“Oh!”

“Please don’t get the wrong idea. It’s not what you think. I’m not some rich chick. I’ll explain when we get inside.” It was a small, 1 bedroom, 600 square foot house, with front and rear covered porches that extended the width of the house. The overall dimensions were 30′ wide by 32’deep.

We entered through the large living room (18′ x 11′). A nice fireplace is on the right. I gave Sydney a quick tour. Directly beyond the living room is the kitchen (12’6″ x 9’2″). A door at the back of the kitchen opened onto the back porch. There is a small bathroom (5’6″ x 9′) to the left of the kitchen and also at the back of the living room. The bathroom door opened into the living room.

The door to the (12′ x 12’6″) bedroom located in the back-left corner of the house, was just in front of the bathroom door. Sydney was impressed with my king size poster bed, even though it took up more than half of the bedroom. It was the one piece of furniture I just had to bring from home even though I knew it would occupy a lot of space. At the rear of the bedroom were two small closets. Between them was a door leading onto a 10-foot-wide, screened-off section of the back porch. A second door into the bathroom was on the right side of the bedroom. There was one additional room, called a bonus room, in the house. At 12′ x 7’4″, it was between the bedroom and the front porch. An optional floor plan had a basement. This is where the steps to the basement would have been located, and the bedroom would have been slightly larger. I made this room into my study.

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