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~The whole *quot;sexy librarian*quot; thing is such a cliché. *yawn*~

She saw his text message pop up and quickly flipped her phone over on her study carrel, even as her stomach made an answering flip of its own, the same way it did nearly every time he wrote to her. Obviously they were flirting. She wasn't a prude, cliché or no?she knew what he was doing and what she had been doing right back for weeks now, jest for jest, pun for pun, wink for wink, ever since they met at the campus coffee shop. Why fight it? She picked the phone back up.

~Surely *quot;sexy library science grad student*quot; is at least a tiny bit less overplayed? I may never even become a real librarian; I claim that gives the whole thing a heightened aura of mystery.~

I certainly won't ever be a real librarian if I don't finish this paper, she thought with a hint of despair. But there was nothing in the stack of books and papers spread out over the study carrel that held her attention to even a fraction of the same degree as those three little dots that now reliably appeared under her latest message.

Before he could respond and use the word *quot;sexy*quot; one more time in what was ostensibly a conversation between two casual acquaintances, she grabbed her phone and quickly typed out another message.

~In any case, I'm going to pull out one more cliché and roundly shush you. Shhh! I'm trying to write! And shouldn't you be working? It's the end of the semester, surely there's some questionably legal pink-faced coed who omg just can't figure out how to use Photoshop and her presentation is like, totally due tomorrow??~

Ugh, I'm even flirting when I'm trying to stop flirting, this is ridiculous. She put the phone under a pile of notes and turned her attention back to the ever-patient open Word document on her laptop. She had trailed off mid-sentence and now was left with no idea how she had planned to compete her thought. She applied herself for a solid 90 seconds before digging the phone back up, smiling involuntarily when the screen showed his name again.

~As luck would have it, I do actually have some hapless and hopeful sorority princesses who seem to need saving in the design lab right now, so I'll leave you alone, nerd.~

She barely had time to experience a twinge of jealousy?had only just formed a tiny pout?when a second message slid onto the screen.

~But feel free to be bossy with me again whenever you want to. I like when you're a little mean. I'll be thinking about that shush. Now WRITE YOUR PAPER!!~

Her eyes widened and something happened low in her stomach again. Usually, being called mean wouldn't elicit this kind of response from her, but context, it turned out, was everything. I'll show you mean, she thought, composing the perfect riposte as fast as her fingers could type...but she couldn't ignore the words WRITE YOUR PAPER floating there like a message from her own better self.

With a sigh, she deleted the unfinished jab. The phone went into her bag, and she set herself to the less titillating task at hand: book pages were flipped, scribbles filled up her outline, and sources were meticulously cited, until finally his words were pushed to the back of her mind.

She was in a bit of a fog a few hours later when she finally came up for air, with that peculiar vertigo that comes from falling headfirst into fine-print. Checking her messages didn't make it any better.

~Sorority princesses vanquished, the handsome dragon wins again.~

~How's the paper coming along? Need any digital media expertise? I can help you make an unnecessary video blog for extra credit. That's why I went to art school, after all.~

~Ugh, coworker went home sick, now I'm stuck in the lab until closing, during finals week. Feel bad for me.~

~I seriously can't believe I have to keep this place open until 1am, there aren't even any students here. I'm soooo boredddd.~

~Hi.~

~Hello.~

~Hiiii.~

So needy! But so charming! How irritating. And how did it get so late? The last message had come in just three minutes before, at 12:40am. She wasn't usually much of a night owl, but an evening cup of tea plus end-of-semester jitters plus the natural high of regular flirtation had her feeling pretty good. She picked up her phone.

~Poor thing! I hope you've gotten some late-night slackers stopping by to fill the lonely hours.~

He wrote back almost as soon as she had pushed send.

~Sadly, no. All by my lonesome.~

That was the second time he'd mentioned that he was alone, and of course she knew exactly where he was?just a few buildings away. That was basically an invitation, right? She thought hard for about half a second before she started throwing notebooks and printouts into her bag. As she hopped down the library stairs, she sent out a signal flare, just to check her instinct.

~I feel just awful for you, I sincerely do. not dead yet izle Do you need me to come hold your hand while you talk about how it all makes you feel?~

Another almost-immediate response came through:

~I really, really do. Or else who knows what might happen. I'm not a dramatic person but these are dark times.~

By the time she had finished reading the words, she was slipping out the front door of the main library and moving briskly through campus, her shadow tailing long and dark behind her on the sidewalk between the lamppost spotlights.

The sounds of finals week drifted in from all around her in the surrounding heavy, spring-warmed darkness?giggles and shouting, a bottle breaking sharply against stone followed by a scream of wild laughter that was quickly smothered. The moon was dark and if ever there was a moment to do something unexpected, something completely new, this must be it. Who could say what was happening, would happen, could happen. Everything felt like it was on pause, like she was moving in free space. She looked up at the facade of the white granite classroom building that held the design lab, glowing quietly to itself, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Inside the lab, he sat with his feet up on the help desk, headphones in, scrolling through his phone. When she entered the room, he didn't look up, and she moved silently on the carpeted floor until she was just behind him. She could hear the music leaking out of his earbuds and see what he was reading with such fascination: their texts from earlier that night. She could see he was just about to catch up to where they had left off, so she stepped back around a corner and pulled out her phone. As he began to type and the . . . bubble appeared on her screen, she jumped in to preempt him.

~Take your feet off the desk, you philistine. Were you raised in a barn?~

She saw him read the text, then spin around so quickly?feet still aloft?that he nearly fell out of his chair. *quot;Hello??*quot; he called, pulling off his headphones and standing up.

She pulled back further into the shadows and checked the clock.

~It's 1 am. Time to close up. Shut down the lab and then come to your office. In that order.~

He moved as though to go straight to the office, but hesitated, and as he looked down, the next message appeared:

~I said in that order. I believe you'll want to make very sure that the door is locked.~

The smile that rose on his face brought color to her cheeks, as did her own brazenness. Guessing it would take at least five minutes for him to sweep the lab and lock those doors, she slipped into his office, where she'd only stopped by once or twice before, *quot;just to say hi.*quot; It was small but lived in. In particular, there was a small, unfussy sofa along one wall, currently covered in books. She quietly moved them to the floor and switched on the desk lamp, pointing it at the wall so it gave off only the faintest glow. She stood in front of the desk, facing the door, her silhouette limned in light.

Only seconds later, he pushed the office door open and stood in the doorway. *quot;Hey,*quot; he said, quizzically *quot;I was...*quot;

*quot;Shhhh.*quot; She looked directly at him, her finger at her lips in a sharp, exaggerated gesture.

He laughed, but her face stayed entirely serious as she shushed him again, more decisively. *quot;Shhh. Shut the door.*quot;

He did, then turned and looked at her again.

*quot;On the couch,*quot; she said. *quot;Lie down.*quot;

She was between him and the sofa, and after a moment he took a step toward her. She felt his proximity in the tiny space, swore she could hear his breathing, ragged and quick. Another step and he was right in front of her; they were face to face in the near-dark, their eyes adjusting to the room and meeting for a long beat. Breaking his gaze, she suddenly stepped aside and swept her arm towards the couch.

With a small bow, he did as he was instructed, stretching out his long frame, hands behind his head with a casual bravado he didn't fully feel in the moment.

She approached the couch and stood over him, her curves backlit by the lamp. *quot;Were you rereading my messages when I got here?*quot;

*quot;I...yes.*quot;

*quot;Yes, what?*quot;

*quot;Yes...Miss?*quot;

*quot;Very good, boy.*quot;

She knelt on the floor by his head and murmured right next to his ear: *quot;Were you reading back to see all the times I teased you? All the times I told you what a horrible little boy you are?*quot;

There was a long pause. She heard him swallow hard and his voice cracked a little when he finally answered: *quot;Yes, Miss. I was.*quot;

*quot;Do you like hearing about how pathetic and perverted you are? Do you want to be reminded again?*quot;

*quot;Mmmm. I do.*quot;

*quot;...*quot;

*quot;Yes, I do, please, Miss*quot;

*quot;You need to be reminded. Again and again. Over and over.*quot;

His eyes caught hers again and she obi wan kenobi izle felt a twinge of pure lust, the desire that had been building over the past two weeks of flirting. She barely managed to stifle a moan.

She stood and paced across the room to compose herself. When she turned back towards where he was still lying on the couch, her eye was caught by the outline of a growing bulge against the crotch of his jeans. She lowered her glasses slightly on the bridge of her nose and peered at him with mocking contempt.

*quot;Oh, and exactly what is going on there?*quot; She pointed with one finger, her voice dripping with disdain. *quot;Are you enjoying yourself? Is this arousing you?

*quot;Oh it's definitely arousing me. Is it arousing you?*quot;

She did not return his playful tone. *quot;Have some self-control, you animal. I can see each filthy little thought written over every inch of your body.*quot;

*quot;I'm sorry, Miss. I can't help it.*quot;

*quot;You can't help it? That's disgusting. Are you getting hard right now?*quot;

*quot;Do you really want to know?*quot;

*quot;I asked you a question. Can you feel your cock throbbing and aching right now, right there in your tight little pants, just dying to get out? Is it all you can think about?*quot;

*quot;Mmm, yes, definitely yes.*quot;

*quot;Yes??*quot;

*quot;Yes, Miss, I'm sorry.*quot;

*quot;You're sorry? Sorry for that hard, hot little cock? The one that's straining against your zipper right now, making every moment agony?*quot;

The disbelief in his eyes that this was happening was only matched by her own that she was really doing it, but she felt incredible.

*quot;You should be sorry. And you will be.*quot;

She moved back towards the couch, watching him squirm ever so slightly as he looked up at her. She let her eyes travel slowly up and down his body, lingering on the tremble of his hips, the echoing flutter of his lips and eyelids, the uneven rise and fall of his chest. A minute passed in electric silence before he opened his mouth to speak, but?

*quot;Shhh. You speak when spoken to. And you do what I say. Show it to me.*quot;

*quot;Show what to you, Miss?*quot;

*quot;Don't play coy. Show me that uncontrollable little cock of yours. Show me how nice and hard it is.*quot;

His eyes widened even further than before, but he stayed frozen and made no move to follow her order.

*quot;I said I want to see it. Unzip you pants and show me.*quot;

She was startled by the wave of elation and arousal that she felt as she saw his fingers?shaking just the slightest bit?move toward his pants, fumbling in a blind rush to free himself from the tight denim. He sighed as his hand made contact and, almost without thinking, he slowly began to stroke, up and down, the movement revealing a few drops of glistening moisture at the tip of his penis that caught the muted light from the desk lamp and seemed to almost glow in the dark.

A moment passed, then two. She watched him, and his breath quickened, caught, stopped. His eyes met hers and his hand began to move faster.

*quot;Stop,*quot; she said, suddenly, harshly. *quot;Stop that right now.*quot;

He made a few protesting sounds, his cheeks pinking and his hands quickly raised. He moved to get up from the couch and cover himself.

*quot;Oh no, I didn't tell you to get up. And I didn't tell you to talk.*quot;

She walked towards the couch where he was half reclined, caught quite literally with his pants down. She put her hand firmly on his chest and pushed until he was laying back again. She leaned over him as he looked up, pinioned by her hand and her gaze?was that a smile, or just a sneer of disgust on her face?

*quot;I also didn't tell you to touch yourself. That's something you have to earn. Do you understand?*quot;

*quot;I understand, Miss.*quot;

*quot;And do you want to earn the right to touch yourself in front of me? Do you like doing that?*quot;

*quot;Yes, Miss. I like it very much.*quot;

*quot;Then you must do as you're told, now.*quot;

She backed in the center if the room and began unbuttoning her dress.

*quot;I'd like you to do something for me, and if you do a very good job, then maybe I will let you have what you want.*quot;

She slipped off the dress, revealing a white slip edged in lace. The tops of her breasts rose and fell with a quickened rhythm that belied the calm tone of her voice. She stepped closer to him.

*quot;Do you want to help me? Are you going to be a very good boy?*quot;

*quot;I will, Miss, I want to, please let me.*quot;

This time she was definitely smiling *quot;Of course you will. You'll do anything I say.*quot;

She ran her hands up her thighs, then slid them back down, pulling off her pale pink lace panties along with them. Hiking the silky skirt of the slip up towards her hips, she climbed onto the couch and straddled his chest.

She moved her hands up to her breasts, where he could already see the outline of her nipples standing out against the fabric.

*quot;Listen ölüm zamanı izle carefully. Keep your eyes on me. I want you to watch me.*quot;

She pulled down the straps of the slip and caressed her full breasts, running her fingers over her nipples. She let out a quiet sigh, then slowly moved one hand down between her legs.

*quot;Mmm. That feels nice. I like having you there, watching me, unable to do a thing about it. Do you know how wet that makes me?*quot;

His answer was somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and she took that as a sound of encouragement.

*quot;What can we do about that?*quot;

She pulled out one slick finger.

*quot;Do you want to taste?*quot;

His face flushed. *quot;Yes, please, Miss.*quot;

*quot;Pretty please?*quot;

*quot;Pretty please, Miss.*quot;

She ran her finger lightly around his mouth and the pushed it between his lips. He sucked on it gently, then harder, and she smiled again.

*quot;Clever boy. Do you like that? Do you want another taste?*quot;

She moved forward and lowered herself toward his waiting mouth. His hands grasped her hips as his mouth made contact with her ready, waiting clit. She arched her back as he began to mark out a steady, pulsing rhythm.

Soon his hand followed, the in-and-out of his fingers matching the circles of tongue. Her hands moved back to her breasts and she moaned, louder now.

*quot;Mmmm. You're going to make me come, do you want to make me come? Don't stop, you filthy little boy, don't you dare stop.*quot;

He felt her legs start to shake slightly against his chest. Her breathing quickened and he felt her orgasm come over her even as she cried out.

*quot;Yes, I'm coming, I'm coming, oh yes!*quot;

When her heartbeat finally slowed, several moments later, she stood and stretched, a languid look across her face.

*quot;I'm actually impressed. I didn't think a selfish thing like you would be able to get another person off like that. But you did very well.*quot;

*quot;Thank you, Miss.*quot;

*quot;Did you like that? Does it arouse to hear me come?*quot;

*quot;Oh I think you know it does.*quot;

*quot;I want you to show me how much you like it. You finally earned the right to touch yourself. Show me that cock. Are you still hard? Do you want to do something about it?*quot;

*quot;I'm so hard, Miss. May I please show you?*quot;

*quot;I want you to. Show me how you touch yourself. Show me what you do at home in your dark little room. I want to see what your face looks like, I want to hear you tell me what you're doing.*quot;

It was more than enough encouragement. He moved his hand, slowly at first, a few wide strokes with an open palm, before wrapping his hand around and falling into a quick, enthusiastic beat.

*quot;I'm rubbing my hard cock,*quot; he growled, *quot;and my hand is still wet from you. I'm getting harder and slipperier with every second. I'm squeezing tighter as I think about feeling you come, and as I watch you watching me, looking down on me.*quot;

She perched on the arm of couch, gazing down at him. *quot;You're like a bug, pinned there by your own cock, a wriggling little specimen. I want to see you come for me, you pathetic insect. I want you to look me right in the eyes and finish for me. Are you listening?*quot;

*quot;Yes, Miss. I'm going to come, please let me.*quot;

*quot;No, I don't think so. Not yet. You can come when I get to one. But I'm starting at ten.*quot;

His rhythm became jerkier, uneven, unsure, uncontrolled.

*quot;Nine.*quot;

*quot;Oh, please, faster, please.*quot;

*quot;No. Control yourself like a big boy. Eight.*quot;

His breathing came in fits and starts, and his hand slowed to almost stillness.

*quot;Are you trying to cheat? I can stop counting right now?*quot;

*quot;No! No, I won't cheat, I'm sorry, Miss.*quot;

*quot;Good. Seven. I like seeing you squirm.*quot;

He returned to a steady, punishing movement, each beat a moment of perfect erotic agony.

*quot;Six. Look at me.*quot;

She locked eyes with him and quietly, firmly finished the countdown, his moaning building up in perfect counterpoint.

*quot;Five. Four. Three. Two. One.*quot;

Exactly on queue he was overcome by his orgasm, with a quick shout and the sudden spread of sticky whiteness across his bare thighs between fingers still sticky with darker juices.

It was at least an answering ten seconds before he opened his eyes and found her, still looking down upon him, eyebrows slightly raised with a trace of mischief.

*quot;So prompt. So obedient! That's exactly what I look for in a boy.*quot;

The fact that no clever reply was forthcoming was all the sign she needed that he was well and truly overwhelmed.

*quot;Tell me, how do you feel? Are you all spent now? You look like you are. You look like you can't take any more.*quot;

He shook his head in disbelief at this tease and the implication of insatiability that it contained. But he also smiled.

*quot;No, Miss. I feel very good. I can keep going. I want more.*quot;

*quot;Mmm. Correction: THAT is exactly what I look for in a boy.*quot;

She stood from the couch and bent over to retrieve her panties from the floor. She tossed them lightly at him, turned, and walked out of the office, calling softly over her shoulder:

*quot;Clean yourself up, you dirty boy. And keep your phone on.*quot;