Chapter 1

Sitting on the stool, with my skirt pulled primly over my knees, I could feel my cunt burning between my thighs. The crotch of my panties felt clammy against my loins and I realized that my hot pussy was sopping wet.

I was so turned on that I couldn't sit still any more. I wiggled my ass on the stool, feeling the bubbling juices squish luxuriously within my spasming cunt.

My crotch was so thick with pussy-flow that I felt like I was sitting in a warm, sticky puddle. I wished there was something I could do to remove myself from a potentially embarrassing situation, but it was hopeless. Turned on as I was, I had to just keep telling myself that I was merely doing my job. Just following orders.

Miss Greenstalk, the head of circulation, had asked me to review a new book which the library just received. She wanted to know whether I thought it was suitable to put on our shelves. It was a perfectly reasonable request since I was Miss Greenstalk's assistant, and she asked me to look over books for her all the time.

However, this time there was an exceptional quality about her request because the book she wanted me to read was one of those illustrated sex manuals, the first one I'd ever actually looked at. It was called THE JOY OF LUST and I'd never seen anything like it in my somewhat sheltered life.

Just from being a librarian I knew that sex was getting increasingly popular as a subject for books nowadays, and even that there were a lot of sex manuals being printed by reputable publishers. But I had no idea of how far they'd gone. The Joy of Lust certainly brought me up to date in a hurry.

After Miss Greenstalk had asked me to review it for her, and I sat down and opened the book for the first time, my breath was taken in astonishment. There, in full color, a drawing that couldn't have been more explicit if it had been a photograph, showed an erect male penis fully penetrating a juicily spread cunt that was so hairy it instantly made my mouth water.

I felt ashamed of myself, being aroused by the depiction of the raw meat of copulating genitals. I should have been repelled by the tastelessness and vulgarity of it all. This was certainly not literature and had no place in the public library.

Then why couldn't I take my eyes off it? Why did my pussy spasm like it was trying to wring loose every last drop of cunt-juice? Why were my breasts throbbing? My nipples pulsing stiffly?

Trying to elevate my mind from the gutter, I flipped the pages, hoping from some straight text, or at least a more innocent picture. What I saw was a woman's mouth droolingly swallowing a stiff prick. At the sight of it my cunt jumped between my legs like somebody had set fire to my pubic hair.

I moistened my lips with my tongue at the delicious sight of the hard prick splitting the woman's lips in the book. When I flipped the pages again I wasn't doing it to get away from anything, but to find another filthy picture to make me even hornier.

A woman was drawn with her ass facing the reader. The cheeks of her ass were spread-so you could see all of her cunt. It was fantastically red and juicy, spilling over with dripping juice.

"The woman kneeling in the animal position provides the easiest entry for anal intercourse," the text under the picture read.

I looked up at her asshole. It was beautifully drawn, almost seeming to pulse in its redness between her parted cheeks. I held my breath, anticipating the drawing on the next page.

It more than fulfilled my expectations. A man was in the drawing now, with a cock bigger than I'd imagined a man could have. He was pressing its huge head against the tenderness of her anus. My imagination was so vividly operative that my own throbbing asshole puckered and oozed from the lewd imagery before me.

On the next page he had it in. His hairy balls were crushed against the bottom of her gaping cunt, his cock in her ass to the hilt. There was some accompanying text on the opposite page, but I couldn't concentrate enough to read it. I was out of control-hopelessly turned-on.

The Joy of Lust was no longer enough for me. Continuing to flip its pages for erotic imagery, I added my hand to the stimuli. Slipping it under my skirt, I pushed my knees and thighs under the counter so nobody could see what I was doing. If need be, I could check out some books while I was feeling myself up toward the climax I had to have to make it through the day.

My fingers pressed against the sopping wetness of my panty crotch. I couldn't believe how drenched it was. And how good it felt. In an instant my fingers were slick with slimy pussy juice.

I snaked my ringers under the elastic and felt my bare cunt. The thrill was excruciating. My pussy hair was drenched, tangled into knots from my steaming flow. My cunt lips were turgid with hot blood, fat and wet in their arousal.

In a second I had two fingers up my cunt, furiously finger-fucking myself. My thumb gouged my clit, maddeningly pressing my stiff joy-button.

I was oblivious to everything except my bubbling cunt. My hand kneaded it like it was a piece of wet dough, doing everything possible with it. What a sight I must have been behind the circulation desk; my face sweating, my eyes bugging out.

Finally I closed my eyes, caught up in the fantastic things that were happening in my cunt. I grooved in the darkness on what was happening between my legs. My two fingers slid in and out of my love-canal in slurpy tightness. My clit seemed like it was going to explode against my relentless rubbing and pressing thumb. I could feel my panties almost disintegrating from the steaming flow.

When I started to come it was like dozens of light bulbs popping in my brain. When the explosions became too much to endure, I opened my eyes and took a gasping breath, finding myself looking straight into what seemed to be an explosion of hair.

I blinked and squinted, trying to get my bearings. It was a guy with long dark hair and an unruly beard. He'd been watching me. I gulped, afraid of what he might have seen.

"Excuse me," he said. "Could you tell me where the section on human sexuality is located?"

"Un... certainly... certainly," I said, becoming self-conscious about the two fingers still buried to the hilt in my steaming cunt beneath the desk. "Are you interested in the sociological or biological aspect of the subject?"

"I'm not so sure I understand the difference," he said, stepping back from the counter as though he were trying to get a better look at what I was doing.

Embarrassed that he might detect what I was up to beneath the counter, I stopped moving my fingers, letting them rest inside my gooey cunt while I explained the classification of books on sex to him. "The books having to do with the impact of sex on social customs are in the 301's," I said. "However, others, dealing with the biological or medical aspects are in the 612's."

"Well, actually what I'm interested in is sex manuals," he said, looking knowingly down at the counter like he could see through it and was fully aware that my fingers were imbedded in my wet cunt. "You know, the kind with pictures. Like this one here on the desk. Maybe you could just let me see it. See I'm doing a term paper for my physiology of reproduction class at the university, and I need everything I can get my hands oh." He reached for the book.

"No, no," I said, my hand beating his to it.

"Why not?" he grinned.

"Well, we're still looking this one over," I said.

"Yeah, I guess I know what you mean," he said. I was sure that the smile splitting his beard had turned into a leer.

I stared straight at him, trying to kid him into believing that he wasn't really intimidating me. But he wasn't buying any of it. I could tell by the leer, which became even more explicit. And by the immense bulge in his tight jeans. From the looks of it stretching against the worn denim, his cock was as hard as it could get without splitting the seams.

God, I was so horny that I wanted to vault over the counter and rip his fly open. I was literally starving for cock. I could envision his prick looming stiffly out of his pants. My mouth sucking it. My tits caressing it. My legs spread to receive it in my hopelessly foaming cunt.

"The 612's," I mumbled, trying to preserve my all-business pose.

"What?" he said. "I don't understand."

"That's the catalogue number," I explained. "That's where you'll find the material you're looking for."

"I hope so," he chuckled, and then turned around and disappeared. When the bulge of his straining hard-on vanished with him, I felt like my breath had been knocked out of me, as though my life had just been unexpectedly saved.

As he disappeared into the stacks, I pressed my stiffly waiting clit and came one last time. When the orgasmic shock waves had passed, I pulled my fingers out of my snatch and tried to get to work.

But no matter how hard I tried I couldn't get a thing done. The reek of pussy juice on my hand wouldn't let me concentrate on anything but sex, no matter how hard I had already made myself come.

I couldn't get my mind off the explicit pictures that had turned me on. Even more, I couldn't get it off the bold suggestion of the cock and balls of the bearded man that was etched in my sex-racked mind.