Librarian Finds Long Overdue Love Ch. 02 by R Von

Librarian Finds Long Overdue Love Ch. 02 by R Von

Published on Sun, Sep 01 2013 by webmaster
Tom awoke the next morning to an empty bed. Eyes opening upon the ceiling, he immediately recalled his dream from the night before.
 
I've dreamt about Ms. Lione a lot, but never in greater detail than that, he marveled to himself. I better write this one down before I forget it.
 
Rolling over, Tom noticed an unfamiliar nightstand and paused. Dumbfounded, he turned back over and saw a mirror.
 
That's strange, he thought. My room doesn't have a full-length mirror.
 
A few moments passed. Finally, through the fog in his stirring brain, Tom realized that he hadn't been dreaming after all. Bolting up from the bed, he slapped his cheek lightly with an open hand.
 
"Shit, this really did happen!" he said aloud softly. "I actually had sex with Ms. Lione! Yes!"
 
Rising from Ms. Lione's king-sized bed, Tom saw no evidence of his lover from the previous night – just a white cotton men's bathroom folded neatly on a chair by the nightstand. Tom picked up the robe and wrapped and tied it around his naked body. Opening Ms. Lione's bedroom door he was immediately hit with the smell of pancakes sizzling on a griddle. Tentatively, he walked down the hallway and descended the staircase.
 
Following his nose to the kitchen, Tom got his first glimpse of his lover, standing with her back to him, leaning over the stove. Dressed in a tight black top, an even tighter pair of stylish black jeans were tucked into her ubiquitous knee-high, high-heeled black boots.
 
As Tom drank in the scene of her hard butt gently rocking and swaying, a hard-on began to press against his robe. I don't care how old she is, he said to himself, admiring her like a fine work of art in a museum, this isn't your father's librarian. What a body. I can't believe I actually slept with it. How lucky can I get?
 
Sensing that she wasn't alone in the room anymore, Ms. Lione finally turned around.
 
"Well, it's about time you got up," she said with a smile, sauntering sexily over to her young lover, the sole and four inch heels of her boots click clacking on the linoleum kitchen floor. "I thought you were going to sleep right through the weekend. You came within minutes of getting my patented wake-up call; guaranteed to get a rise out of any man – and it has."
 
"Sounds like a call that would have been worth a few more zzzzs," Tom said.
 
The two embraced, wrapping their arms around each other's respective waists and moved their faces close for a soft, passionate open-mouthed kiss.
 
"Someone could use a toothbrush," said Angelina slyly, ten seconds later when the pair unlocked lips. "I unwrapped one for you in the bathroom. Are you hungry? I made you some breakfast. Like pancakes?"
 
"Starving," said Tom, his penis still hard as steel and his hands still clasped around Angelina's waist.
 
"Sit down and I'll fix you a plate."
 
The two uncoupled and Tom eased himself onto a chair at the small circular kitchen table.
 
"Coffee, tea or me?" purred Angelina with a laugh after she'd retreated to the refrigerator.
 
"You – any day," smiled Tom. "And I'll have a cup of tea, too, please."
 
Returning to the table, Angelina set a steaming mug of green tea and a large stack of pancakes in front of her hungry lover.
 
"You really worked up an appetite last night," she said, sitting across from him at the table, fingers absentmindedly playing with the material of her plunging neck line."
 
"Yeah, that was really something," responded Tom, stabbing at his heaping stack of flapjacks with a fork. "But, you passed out before I...ummm... finished. Are you okay?"
 
"Okay?! Are you kidding? That was the most intense orgasm I've ever experienced."
 
Angelina reached across the table and gently grabbed Tom's hand.
 
"You were so tender, yet forceful," she said, softly caressing the top of his hand with her thumb. "I couldn't take it anymore. It's not the first time I've fainted during sex, but no man has ever had that effect on me before. Somehow, you knew every button to push on my body at exactly the right time."
 
"Well, that was nine years of stored up passion. I've never wanted to make love to any woman like I made love to you. Listen Angelina, things happened so fast between us last night, that I didn't have a chance to ask..."
 
"Ask what?"
 
"You're not married, are you?"
 
"No, I'm not."
 
"Whewww. That's a relief. Wait, but who's the 'we' you were talking about, who you go to Rotini's with?"
 
"My sister's family and my mother. They live next door."
 
"No boyfriend either?
 
"Nope."
 
"That's good to know."
 
Angelina leaned closer to Tom.
 
"Let's just say, I'm accepting applications at the moment," she answered flirtatiously.
 
"I see," said Tom, playing along with Ms. Lione's game. "What's in it for me if I get the job?"
 
"You get to have direct deposit."
 
"Every two weeks?"
 
"Nahhh-ahhh. More like every two hours. If you're up for the job. It's a very demanding workload, you know."
 
"I don't think I'd have any trouble going to work every day. I'd even volunteer for overtime."
 
"Oh, really? Then, by my body clock, I think it's time to start the second interview."
 
A roguish smile crept across Ms. Lione's face and fire burned in her eyes from behind her large-framed glasses as she leaned in further to Tom. Meeting his lover halfway, the two began to kiss softly on the lips. Seconds later the pair rose as one from the table and joined bodies. Still kissing, Tom pressed his body against Angelina's and moved his hands behind her, grabbing her ass at both cheeks and squeezing them gently like they were two rolls of toilet paper.
 
Tom's penis extended quickly and forced its way through his robe, striking Angelina's camel toe. Meanwhile, the hyper-sexually aroused librarian's pussy began self-lubricating. The two continued with foreplay for the next several minutes, until Angelina finally came up for air.
 
"Do me," she said panting.
 
"I'll carry you upstairs," her partner responded.
 
"No. There isn't time. Let's do it here."
 
"On the floor?"
 
"Yes. Oh my God, I'm so attracted to you."
 
Tom did as he was told, lowering Angelina's body to the kitchen tile and disrobing.
 
"Do you want to take your clothes off?" asked the fully naked young man.
 
"No," moaned Angelina, her breasts heaving and face flush from their sexual activity. "Just unzip my pants and get inside me."
 
Quickly, Tom obeyed, slid down her already sopping wet red panties and popped his swollen penis inside her bloated clitoris. Both let out a simultaneous groan and lay contented and still for a moment on the hard floor.
 
Then, slowly at first, Tom brought his penis out of Angelina's pussy and proceeded to plunge it back in. Then out. Descending deeper into her warm, gushy cavity with each powerful thrust, like a pumpjack on an oil well, he methodically but delicately kept at his task for fifteen hard minutes. Finally, with one last nose-dive Tom struck oil. It was a gusher.
 
"OH....OHHHH....OHHHHHH!!!!" moaned Angelina in ecstasy, as the two simultaneously peaked – Tom cumming with the force of water rushing through an uncoiled firehose and Angelina reaching full orgasm.
 
At sex's end, Tom lay on top of Angelina for a minute; too spent to stand and Angelina in no rush to have him remove his oh so satisfying penis from her vagina.
 
"Man, that was great," Tom said when he'd finally gotten the strength to lift off of his lover. "Did you like it?"
 
"What do you think?" asked Angelina, still struggling to catch her breath. "You practically fucked me into next week."
 
The two lay on their backs recovering until Angelina turned over and placed her left hand on Tom's heaving chest.
 
"I think I'm becoming addicted to you," said Angelina, gently combing what little chest hair Tom had with her long fingers with the fire engine red nail polish.
 
"There are certainly worse addictions," responded Tom, smiling sweetly at his lover.
 
The couple cuddled in silence for several minutes until the inherent discomfort of their surroundings forced them off the floor.
 
"I'll clean up here. Why don't you grab a shower?" Angelina told Tom, before straining to reach her 6'2" lover by standing on the tip toes of her boots and sending him off to the bathroom with a kiss on the lips.
 
No more than two minutes into freshening up, Angelina surprised Tom, joining her lover in the shower. Despite now twice having sex, it was the first time that Tom had seen Angelina naked and he loved the sight. Her body had more tone than a 51-year old woman had a right to and her breasts – while just average in size – were firm and perky. She looked so good naked that Tom almost forgot that it was his boot and smoking fetishes that attracted Angelina to him.
 
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Tom asked.
 
"I could use some washing up, too," said Angelina, a twinkle showing in her green-brown eyes.
 
Tom took the bar of soap he was clutching and began rubbing it delicately over Angelina's chest.
 
"That's not where I need cleaning," she scolded him playfully, taking Tom's soap-filled hand and bringing it down to her clit.
 
Tom became arroused, but not enough to make up for the fact that he had already cummed a rushing river into Angelina only some ten minutes earlier. The librarian seemed to understand even her virile young lover's limitations and was content to have Tom work his magic fingers instead on her pussy for the next fifteen minutes in his own interpretation of a shower massage.
 
"You don't have any plans today, do you?" asked Angelina, after the two dried off, as she stepped her boot on a chair in her bedroom and zipped it up over the same jeans she wore to make love in that morning.
 
"No, we can spend all day together, if you have no other plans," said Tom, slipping his boxer shorts over a bulging woody brought forth by the sight of Angelina zipping up her boots.
 
"Good. Why don't we grab some lunch at this little café in town? We could try to live on love but you're a growing boy and need some nourishment."
 
"First, we should call a mechanic about your car."
 
"We can pick it up on the way."
 
"But it doesn't start, remember?"
 
"Yes, it does."
 
"What? But, you couldn't get it turn over."
 
"I wasn't really trying."
 
"You mean..."
 
"Yup, I wanted you to take me home."
 
"But you didn't have to go to that much trouble."
 
"Yes, I did. You weren't going to get inside my pants that easily. I had to challenge you first and see how you'd react and you responded ex-act-ly like I hoped you would."
 
"So, that was all a test? Geeze that's cold."
 
"Playing games sometimes makes things interesting, my love. Let's get something to eat. This time it's my treat."
 
Both her boots zipped up, Angelina sauntered to her closet pulled out a smart looking tan blazer and slipped it on.
 
"Drop me off at Rotini's," she continued, picking up her matching pocketbook and turning toward the bedroom door. "You can follow me to the café from there."
 
A few minutes later Tom pulled his car up to Angelina's red VW in Rotini's parking lot. Hopping out, Angelina turned the lock on the driver's side and slid in. Inserting the key in the ignition, the engine turned over on the first try. Gripping the top of the steering wheel with her black leather gloved hands, Angelina smiled coyly through the front windshield at Tom. The hot librarian then proceeded to pump the gas pedal with her booted foot, revving the engine slowly then progressively quicker and repeating the pattern three times as if imitating how her partner had been making love to her.
 
My lord what a nymph she is, Tom said to himself, another erection developing in his pants. Is sex all this woman thinks about? She's gonna wear me out.
 
Angelina then put her car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot, Tom following close behind.
 
"I think you were tailgating me," said Angelina impishly, crossing her booted legs, the leather footwear squeaking from the friction, as the pair sat down a short time later at an outdoor table at the café. "Maybe when we get back to my house, I'll let you rear end me in another way."
 
Between bites of her avocado and asparagus salad Angelina asked Tom about his career – becoming increasingly attracted to him as he told her of his entry-level job as a copy editor for a major publishing house in the city.
 
"Have to say, Angelina, the past 24 hours has been like a dream to me," said Tom over dessert. "I know so far it's been all physical, but this time with you has been better than I could have imagined."
 
"My thoughts exactly, my love," she said, taking Tom's hand in her gloved hand bringing it to her full lipstick covered lips and kissing it while staring intently into his eyes. "You're quite a lover."
 
"What I really can't believe, though, is how a beautiful, sophisticated and incredibly sexy woman like you can still be single. It doesn't make sense to me. You must get asked out all the time, right?"
 
"At my age? Not exactly. And there's not a large pool of men to choose from at school."
 
"So, you don't date at all?"
 
"Not much in the last few years."
 
"But you used to, though, right? You must have."
 
"Well, I was in a long-term relationship several years ago."
 
"Did you come close to marriage?"
 
"He couldn't propose."
 
"I don't understand."
 
"He was married."
 
"Oh."
 
"Do you think any less of me for having an affair with a married man?"
 
"No. Who am I to judge? Besides you weren't the one cheating, he was. Did that occur when I was at Riverdale?"
 
"Yes. From 1978-84."
 
"I knew you had to be involved with someone when I was in 7th and 8th grade. You looked so beautiful every day...like you were trying to impress someone there."
 
"I was."
 
"Really? May I ask whom?"
 
"Correct usage of 'whom.'Mmmm...my, you do know the way to my librarian's heart – as well my pussy – don't you? I guess I can reveal him now. It was the vice principal."
 
"Mr. Seymour?! No way!"
 
"That's the one."
 
"I'd never have guessed. He was so...so old to me."
 
"He was about 20 years older than me. But age didn't mean anything to me. It still doesn't. Love is love. At the time I had a major attraction for men with power. To you he was old, but that little bald man really turned me on. His marriage was on the rocks and we got together. It was wonderful. We made love at least once a day – wherever we could: my house, even in my office after school when everyone had left."
 
"Wow. But you could have had any man. Why did you stay with a married man so long?"
 
"I loved him. He said to be patient and would divorce her and marry me and like a fool I believed him...for 6 years. But that's not to say we didn't have some great times together. He had unbelievable sexual stamina – almost as good as you do. He spoiled me with expensive gifts and trips and was always a gentleman, holding doors for me and lighting my cigarettes. I never really got over him and have compared every man I've come across since to see if they measured up. You, my darling, have been the first to come -- and cum -- anywhere close to him."
 
"Stop. How did it end, if you don't mind me asking?"
 
"It had been building for some time. I tried everything I knew to finish off his toppling marriage – including openly flirting with other men at school functions to make him jealous. I even went so far as to hire an escort to be my date to a party at his house once. I normally don't go for public displays of affection, but I was all over the poor guy that night. And I used another man for a couple dates, flaunting our relationship in front of Harry."
 
"And it didn't work?"
 
"Oh, it drove Harry mad. He'd get so jealous. We'd fight over it and then have the most incredible, passionate, intense make-up sex ever, but I finally realized he was never going to leave her. He had the best of both worlds: a wife and a mistress. I grew tired of having to slink around. I wanted an honest, open relationship, but he didn't want to risk us being seen in public together within a 100-mile radius of here."
 
"I'm sorry, Angelina."
 
"It's over. Maybe someday I'll tell you more. Let's change the subject, OK. I'm interested to know why a 14-year old boy would be interested in a 43-year old woman."
 
"Like you said, 'love is love," Tom deflected, not wanting to reveal the boot fetish that Angelina had sparked in him and kept going in his libido like an eternal flame. "I found you so overwhelmingly attractive that I'd purposely stay in during recesses to pretend like I was doing homework, just so I could be near you. At first, I thought it was a crush, but I never got over you. I knew I finally had to act on my feelings."
 
"Obviously, I'm glad you did. It's been so long since I've been with a man. I'm enjoying every second of this – even when I fainted during love making."
 
Angelina paused, topping off her aphrodisiac-loaded lunch with the last spoonful of bananas smothered in chocolate sauce that she ordered for dessert.
 
"You said before that fainting isn't uncommon for you when you make love," Tom repeated.
 
"That's right," confirmed Angelina." That just means you did it right. Better than right, actually. I must have really sensitive erogenous zones or something because I almost always faint during an orgasm. I couldn't believe my pussy was filling up like a warm bath only a few minutes after we started making out. I almost passed out during foreplay last night, my feelings were so intense."
 
"Glad you didn't. Talk about coitus interruptus."
 
"What do you mean?"
 
"Well, I wouldn't want to take advantage of you while you're unconscious."
 
"Why not? For whatever reason I don't revive easily or quickly after I faint – from what I've been told. So, unless you really want to wait around with a raging erection for 15 to 20 minutes – or until the next morning like in last night's case – until I come to again, be my guest. But if we're already being intimate, you don't have to wait. Besides, I'm probably going to faint again anyway, so what's the difference?"
 
"Really?"
 
"Sure. I trust you. We'd be on our way to making love anyway and if I've already had an orgasm it wasn't going to get any better for me. By all means, you have my permission to fuck me to your heart's content. Use me like I'm a pin cushion."
 
"Well, I confess, the sight of you laying there passed out turned me on A LOT."
 
"As much as it did when I smoked with my holder?"
 
Angelina reached into her pocketbook as Tom's pulse raced, knowing full well what she was about to do. Cracking open her cigarette case, Angelina took out a long, thin cigarette and subsequently pulled from her bag her collapsible jet black holder. Extending the holder to its full 10 inches, she gently screwed the cigarette into it, went back into her pocketbook, came up with her lighter and held it out gloved palm side up to Tom. Taking the lighter, he seamlessly executed a perfect flick, as Angelina's mouth curled up into a Cheshire cat smile. Inserting the shaft two inches into her open mouth, she directed it to the flame, allowed it to touch, slowly slid the holder out and turned her neck to the side to expel a stream of smoke into the air.
 
"I know have a smoking fetish, but it's not nearly as intense with other women as it is with you," said Tom, crossing his legs in a futile effort to repress his sudden hard-on. "The way you smoke your holder makes it look like you're smoking a..."
 
"Penis," Angelina whispered across the table to him finishing his sentence, before taking a soft pull on the bridge of the holder.
 
"Yes. It really turns me on. I can't help it."
 
"How unfortunate for you, my dear, but how very fortunate for me," said Angelina, as smoke oozed slowly from her mouth, nostrils and from the moist end of the holder's mouthpiece. "I think it's time to drive back to my house."
 
Angelina placed the holder back in her mouth and clenched it between her teeth, freeing up both of her hands to open her wallet. Leaving behind a $50 bill for a $30 tab, she slung her pocketbook over her shoulder and strode sexily from the table, her long holder tucked neatly between the middle and index fingers of her left gloved hand. Tom followed, trying desperately to use his lover's body as a shield from fellow diners at the cafe, who might suddenly spot his erection.
 
The two got into their respective cars and quickly drove to Angelina's house – Tom speeding through two yellow/red lights in an all-out effort to get there with as little delay as possible.
 
Parking behind her car in Angelina's driveway, Tom followed his lover up the walkway and finally into the privacy of her home.
 
"Man, that was close," sighed Tom, closing his eyes and slumping back against the wall of the foyer once the couple was safely inside.
 
Before he knew what was happening Tom's open mouth was engulfed by Angelina's in an aggressive kiss that threatened to suck the fillings from his teeth. The horny librarian had the physical advantage from the start, pressing Tom's body against the wall and holding it there with a raised booted leg.
 
As his bearings recovered, Tom returned the passionate embrace and worked his hands vigorously over her ass. For the next several minutes the two continued to attack each other like animals in heat, yet neither of them in any rush to exchange genital fluids. Tom pressed firmly on Angelina's camel toe with a strong hand.
 
"Ohhhhhhh...that's the spot...," Angelina cried, her climax coursing through every cell in her body.
 
Overcome by the passion, the librarian's eyes crossed and rolled back in her head. As her body suddenly went completely limp and began to sink to the floor, Tom caught her at the waist, Angelina's face coming to rest against his bulging groin.
 
"Angelina. Angelina," he said, looking into the face of his unconscious partner.
 
His left arm curled around her waist to hold her up, Tom used his right hand to gently grab her face as if to shake her awake. The effort proved fruitless.
 
"Great, now what do I do with her?" he asked aloud in dismay, looking down at his fainted lover, her mouth slightly agape and smoldering cigarette holder still between the fingers of her gloved hand.
 
Suddenly regaining his wits and recalling their lunch conversation where Angelina granted him consent to finish making love to her should she pass out during intimacy, Tom repositioned the hot librarian, scooped her up and held her before him. Pausing, he let her flaccid frame settle in his strong arms and gazed upon her sexy, now vulnerable body. Angelina's arched back elevated her breasts, her head lay back at the neck, hoop earrings dangled softly, black leather, knee-high, high-heeled boots rocked slowly under his left arm. Her left arm – the one whose hand clutched her phallic cigarette holder – hung loosely around his neck. Tom's penis swelled another couple centimeters in circumference and grew an extra five centimeters.
 
"I'll take it from here," Tom said softly to her, knowing full well that his deeply unconscious lover couldn't hear him. "You're in good hands, Angelina. I'll be slow and gentle and make the love last long. It'll be so good that if you wake up during it, it'll put you right out again."
 
With that, Tom carried his fainted lover through the living room, up the staircase and into her bedroom.

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