madame librarian...
i walk through the double doors and turn to the desk, walking slowly.
the very first thing my eyes fall upon is a full two-inch wide strip of smooth soft tanned skin between the top of a pair of (tight) jeans and the bottom of a (snug) black t-shirt.
o thou jezebel eyes that wander so freely, seeking out the perverted flesh that makes the brain think such things. i would pluck thee from thy sockets did i not need thee so desperately.
my eyes climb quickly from the bit of (bitable) hip to the (deep hazel) eyes that correspond with the patch of skin, taking in the bigger picture as they go. the librarian is on the phone, standing with one thumb tucked into her back pocket, the opposite knee bent, waist thrust out, almost as if she expected me to walk through the door, almost as if she knew the very place my (benedict arnold) eyes would fly first, and wanted to provide the landing strip. she watches me approach the desk from the corners of her half-lidded sockets (not sure how something that our brain would otherwise register as "tired" or "inebriated" began to fall into the "erotic" category, but at the same time, i am not really complaining), a wicked little smile playing across her (full) lips.
as i return the book, and negotiate the loan of another, every time my (hungry) eyes shift from bits of her (unbelievably tight and smooth) exposed flesh back to her green eyes and pouty smirk, i am shocked by the look that i meet there. i feel as if i am fully exposed to her, bare, naked and on display in the middle of the library, but not in a way that she finds unpleasant. to the contrary, the small smile denotes a hint of pleasure and even humor at finding me so easily open for her viewing. her smile is the same that i find on my own face when i have a (wicked) thought that i am loathe to share. i wonder momentarily as my eyes wander her (luscious) body again if it is on my face right now, and if she is wondering the very same thing about my smile that i am wondering about hers...
each time she stands or moves there is a certain sinuous and sensuous air to it. she stretches like a cat to lift herself from her seat, and as she walks to retrieve something from the printer, her hips sway, giving me peek-a-boo shots of the skin that my (bastard) eyes so greedily devoured upon entering the library. her fingers trail languidly across the interlibrary loan slip that i have filled out, her hand takes the pen softly, cradling it as if she is taking...
o thou evil and pernicious brain, how thy thoughts wander, creating lust where there is nought but surfaces reflected in light. how thou dost take the input of the treacherous eyes and build electricity and fire and desire to tease the lower extremeties. i would remove thee from thy skull did i not need thee so desperately.
i am sure she is well aware of the effect that she is having on me, despite my best efforts to appear aloof, cool, and collected. each time her eyes land on me, i am again sure she is seeing right through me. i am also sure that knowing how her attention is effecting me, and suspecting the very things passing through my (wicked wicked) mind, made manifest by my smile, only pleases her more.
i leave with my book, my overactive imagination, my lascivious thoughts, and little else.
***one part reality, and nine parts active imagination and too much time on my hands, o beloved non-existant readers, heh heh. i will leave it to all of you malchickiwicks and ptitsas to decide which parts are which. in the time when i still wrote erotica (before i decided it was mostly uninspired) this would've been the mere beginning, with much more lechery and lust to follow. as it stands though, i think it is made more erotic by the simple fact that it feels real. these kind of situations are, more often than not, more sensuous than any sex that might follow, either imagined or real. well, at least in my head. you be the judge. this still isn't the post i wanted to post, that has been floating in my head for days, i just got sidetracked by this one, so hopefully tomorrow i will get to the other. thanks for playing along.***
darth sardonic
the very first thing my eyes fall upon is a full two-inch wide strip of smooth soft tanned skin between the top of a pair of (tight) jeans and the bottom of a (snug) black t-shirt.
o thou jezebel eyes that wander so freely, seeking out the perverted flesh that makes the brain think such things. i would pluck thee from thy sockets did i not need thee so desperately.
my eyes climb quickly from the bit of (bitable) hip to the (deep hazel) eyes that correspond with the patch of skin, taking in the bigger picture as they go. the librarian is on the phone, standing with one thumb tucked into her back pocket, the opposite knee bent, waist thrust out, almost as if she expected me to walk through the door, almost as if she knew the very place my (benedict arnold) eyes would fly first, and wanted to provide the landing strip. she watches me approach the desk from the corners of her half-lidded sockets (not sure how something that our brain would otherwise register as "tired" or "inebriated" began to fall into the "erotic" category, but at the same time, i am not really complaining), a wicked little smile playing across her (full) lips.
as i return the book, and negotiate the loan of another, every time my (hungry) eyes shift from bits of her (unbelievably tight and smooth) exposed flesh back to her green eyes and pouty smirk, i am shocked by the look that i meet there. i feel as if i am fully exposed to her, bare, naked and on display in the middle of the library, but not in a way that she finds unpleasant. to the contrary, the small smile denotes a hint of pleasure and even humor at finding me so easily open for her viewing. her smile is the same that i find on my own face when i have a (wicked) thought that i am loathe to share. i wonder momentarily as my eyes wander her (luscious) body again if it is on my face right now, and if she is wondering the very same thing about my smile that i am wondering about hers...
each time she stands or moves there is a certain sinuous and sensuous air to it. she stretches like a cat to lift herself from her seat, and as she walks to retrieve something from the printer, her hips sway, giving me peek-a-boo shots of the skin that my (bastard) eyes so greedily devoured upon entering the library. her fingers trail languidly across the interlibrary loan slip that i have filled out, her hand takes the pen softly, cradling it as if she is taking...
o thou evil and pernicious brain, how thy thoughts wander, creating lust where there is nought but surfaces reflected in light. how thou dost take the input of the treacherous eyes and build electricity and fire and desire to tease the lower extremeties. i would remove thee from thy skull did i not need thee so desperately.
i am sure she is well aware of the effect that she is having on me, despite my best efforts to appear aloof, cool, and collected. each time her eyes land on me, i am again sure she is seeing right through me. i am also sure that knowing how her attention is effecting me, and suspecting the very things passing through my (wicked wicked) mind, made manifest by my smile, only pleases her more.
i leave with my book, my overactive imagination, my lascivious thoughts, and little else.
***one part reality, and nine parts active imagination and too much time on my hands, o beloved non-existant readers, heh heh. i will leave it to all of you malchickiwicks and ptitsas to decide which parts are which. in the time when i still wrote erotica (before i decided it was mostly uninspired) this would've been the mere beginning, with much more lechery and lust to follow. as it stands though, i think it is made more erotic by the simple fact that it feels real. these kind of situations are, more often than not, more sensuous than any sex that might follow, either imagined or real. well, at least in my head. you be the judge. this still isn't the post i wanted to post, that has been floating in my head for days, i just got sidetracked by this one, so hopefully tomorrow i will get to the other. thanks for playing along.***
darth sardonic
Labels: sex, the music man
posted by darth sardonic at 2:57 PM
5 Comments:
Oh my....... ;-)
hahaha, now i'm all embarassed. glad you enjoyed z.
It certainly had the effect on me that you so amptly describe in your accompanying note :) It felt very erotic, and I admire how you were able to describe this situation without making it sound dirty or base.
About the 'real' part? I'm thinking you actually saw a beautiful librarian with a strip of bare tummy and you went from there. If so, then I am jealous of her :) If some guy ever wrote such a piece about me, even if only half of it were true, I'd feel very flattered. Even though I feel very uncomfortable when (once in a gazillion years) a guy stares at me. Because you know, the visions they might have probably do not sound as eloquent as your piece is.
And all I wanna know is what book did you return and what book did you get. Yeah, I'm boring like that.
yes belle, the strip of skin was real, and the look and the smile were real, though it is easily possible that i misconstrued them with my overactive imagination. most of the rest of it is my mind running away with it. and i am sure if you were showing a strip of skin and looking at me and smiling at me as such, i would have had the same kind of reaction as this post.
hahaha krissie, you're not boring at all, i actually do the same thing (i think i am the only person that can look at online porn and say, "i can't believe they misspelled that word!"), and the book i returned was hunter s. thompson's "the rum diary" i ordered "fear and loathing in las vegas"
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