I've never told anyone of the event. I do still recall with a degree of relish the details. Trying to remember it all and portray it in words is titillating to say the least, but I'm discovering how easy it is to be truthful and factual about this especially when there is anonimity between me and the reader.
I had known the young lady (her name is Lisa) for many years and had visited her family many times. The girl when I met her was only eleven or twelve but whenever I was at her home she always hung on to me and followed me everywhere. There were always hugs and kisses when I came and when I went. In her later teens I noticed she added touches to our greetings. Innocent at first but bolder and, I admit pleasant, later on.
I held no active roll in the local library but I donated money from time to time so when Lisa graduated from high school I was influential in getting her a position as library assistant. It was shortly after this I donated part of my personal collections to the library. Lisa, of course, was helpful with the cataloqueing so we saw a lot of each other during the next few weeks. At about the same time cartons of books came in from an inheritance. They were stored in an unused room and not looked at for some time.
It was after the Christmas holiday season when I next heard from Lisa. She called and insisted I come down and help with the stacks of books she claimed should not be "on the shelf books" for lending. I had little time to spare but she coaxed me to make time on that week-end.
"Perhaps when the library is closed," she said, "It would be more private." I recall this as her exact phrasing.
She was waiting that Sunday afternoon to let me in. She locked the door and of course there were the usual hugs and kisses and pats and rubs. She was bubbling over with excitement as she took me to the back room. She had managed to empty the boxes, spread some on the floor and stack others on shelves. there was a stand-up writing desk nearby. One book lay open on the slanted surface and others were neatly arranged on lower shelves.
She held my hand and led me over to look. I remember clearly open pages of
Von Byron drawings. I stared in disbelief at these erotic depictions of
young girls and older women totally naked, engaging in every describable
sexual act imaginable. As I turned the pages from one delightful scene to
the next I was only slightly aware of Lisa's touches. She constantly rubbed
my arm and made comments as she looked with me. When she felt my breasts I
certainly knew her touches had progressed from touching to fondling but i
told myself her action were certainly appropriate to my emotions. I could
feel my body heat flow downward to concentrate at my loins. Her expert
touches on my nipples could easily have brought me to orgasm but the last
page of Von Byron had been turned She knelt on the floor to find another
book from the shelf just below but when she handed it up to me she
remained kneeling beside me. I assumed she was looking for other titles so
I proceeded to read from a collection of erotic stories.
I gasped when I felt her hand on my leg. I wore a long and loose cotton
print dress. She was pushing it high over my knees and for a time spread it
wide so she could look. I do admit I prayed she'd go further and she did.
Her hand quickly reached my crotch and fingers slipped under one leg of my
panties. She explored almost innocently touching me everywhere in places no
one had touched for a long time. I was wet and her movements were gentle
and slow. She wasn't masturbating me in a regular way but I came
nonetheless. When it happened I grasped the lecturn like table and hung on
until the throbbing somewhat subsided and as I experienced those final
pulsations Lisa was sliding my panties to the floor.
I had barely recovered
from coming and I was sensitive to touch yet she positioned herself exactly
as in your memorable print and pressed her mouth firmly against me. My hips
jerked momentarily in protest.
I soon found myself holding my skirt high. I could see only the top of her head but further below I witnessed her own manipulations. She wore a short skirt so what she did was clear to see. I think she came several times. I--only once more.
Lisa and I have enjoyed each other in much more comfortable surroundings but nothing ever equaled that wonderful day that you can now, I am sure, picture in motion.
I enjoyed writing this--twice--as in the telling.
PAMELLA