Locked in the Library

It was not my intention, but I have no regrets with you. Maybe we both had an unspoken desire. An unconscious want.
A dark hunger that needed satiation.

I am glad we were not found until late morning the next day. I love how your breath felt on my skin as you touched me in the stacks. I crave you now even more though I still do not know your name. You are my Anonymous.

I had seen you in the library many times before last night. Deep in the dark reaches of the library, where the knowledge slumbers peacefully. And those in need of solitude to study like I did.

Your touch taught me more than I could ever realize I was missing. You read me selections of Sappho of Lesbos. Marquis de Sade. Leopold von Sacher-Masoch. Chevoque. Vatsayana. Syang’s No Ci and Nua (e com tesão) em Brasília. You spoke to me softly. Gently. Firmly. In English, Spanish. Portuguese. French. German.

Your mind and tongue both so exquisite and comforting. I only imagined in fantasies how one could make my body feel. You opened me. You broadened me. You expanded me. So many, many ways than one.

You took my hand in yours that night and told me it would be alright. When I gazed into your eyes I saw the truth. You made me safe. You taught me the meaning of safe word. You took this virgin mind and made it metamorphose into an experienced woman. You told me virginity and purity are artificial constructs.

You gave me such pleasure and held me close as I came on your hand. And came. And came. And came. And came until I was too weak to stand and you laid me upon your body to rest.

Just thinking about last night makes me so very wet. My nipples still tingle. My legs go weak. My mind beings to phase into the images you told me in my ear. Whispering. Telling me that I was so very obedient. Even though you knew I was so very afraid. You calmed me and rewarded me.

You made me feel certain in being a word-whore. A sensory-slut. Feeling my naked body pressed against the cool glass of the top floor windows exposed for anyone to see that night.

You urged me to stand there exhibited like a pet as you parted my thighs and caressed my cunt lovingly. You held me firm against the glass as you made my knees buckle. Goddess how wet you made me. I want your fingers inside me again so much.

My twat aches for your attentions again. My ass begs to be spanked again like you did to my flesh as I laid upon the oak reading table in the deepest keep of the library.

You made me lay my hips upon leather bound tomes to make my face go down and my ass rise up to meet every strike. Every spank. Every blow you laid down upon my skin until I mewed.

Until I moaned. Until I came. For you. I came for you. I did not come for me. I came for you. You told me. I did it. I came upon your tongue. I came upon your hand. I came upon your fingers. I came upon your lips. I came.

I cannot place your gender or sex. I never could. Your voice so neutral. Your mannerisms so asexual. Your mind so delectable and arousing. You gave me such pleasure.

Why did not not allow me to return it? Were you afraid? I accept you. I accept all of you. Cock. Cunt. I just want you. You make me crazy with longing.

All I can do in this moment is be wet. Waiting. Wanting. Wishing. I want to please you. I want to arouse you. I want to take you. As you did me. You made me so wet and wanting.

I would do anything for you. Just satiate my body. Use it for your pleasure. Use me. I want you to use me. I need you to use me. I will service your every fantasy. I will be with whoever you want me to be with. Please let me please you. I need the release that your touch alone can give me.

Only your words can arouse me like last night. I lack the vocabulary to make myself come without you. You are my sensual library. Your scent is the scent of books so full of wisdom. You fill my orifices. You fill my mind. And here I will be, waiting to be your toy again. Play with me at your pleasure.

Please?