The following is my first attempt to write a story. It's longer than average perhaps, and be warned, takes time to arrive at the conclusion. If you have any feedback to share I would appreciate it- whether you enjoyed it, or have suggestions.
It all began a few years out of college. In a somewhat misguided desire for grand adventure, I had moved across the country to a new coast, certain that the future was out there somewhere. Of course, it was much more of a rude awakening, and I found myself in a city I didn't much care for, without a social circle to speak of, or a job. Out of desperation, I fell back on my experiences during high school summers working at the local library. Air conditioned, quiet, surrounded by books: least stressful job I ever had.
It turned out to be good move, as I was hired on at a prestigious law school to work at the library desk. In fact, the job was so nice I wondered what the catch was, until the other shoe dropped during the interview. "This position would be for our evening shift."
"Evening shift? When does the library normally close?"
The director shifted in his chair, before ruefully admitting, "Midnight. During finals we close at 2am." I pretended to think for a moment, and he nearly fell out of her chair when I said that was fine with me. Being a night owl and having no social circle frees one up to make all kinds of off the wall decisions.
"One more thing," the director said as I made for the door. "There are very strict policies around sexual harassment."
"Of course."
"It goes a little beyond professional courtesy. As this is a law school, any behavior that could be interpreted as sexual,
especially
in regards to the student body, is strictly forbidden and will not be tolerated. This may seem strict, but in today's environment, there can't even be a question of impropriety."
He said it like it was memorized legal language. All I could do was nod in agreement.
"I'm all about professionalism, absolutely. That's no problem for me."
***
The law school library was gorgeous: old ivy-covered brick with a dark wood interior, and classic green lamps at all the tables. Eager law students came and went quickly, or camped out at favorite tables and corners for semesters spent cramming before grueling rounds of tests begun. It wasn't Harvard or Stanford, but it was up there. Let's just say there was no shortage of applicants from all over the country. And internationally.
Another advantage I quickly learned about was every staff member's free access to the school gym: something I made use of from day one. It was an excellent facility, and being the age of the average law school student, I felt right at home. After just a few weeks I became more toned than ever before, abs pleasingly separated into six distinct muscles, shoulders and biceps really filling out the sweaters I wore to work.
In time though, I learned a more subtle advantage of the job: I was the only male librarian on the desk, and certainly the only librarian close to the average student age. It turns out that driven law students spend at least 40 hours a week in the library, and it got to where I would see them more than their parents, professors, and even their boyfriends.
Yes, a final advantage was the myriad of driven young women that would spend long evenings in the library, yoga pants nearly painted on. Many of them I recognized from the gym, and it became very clear why the Director had given me such a stern warning. Being in shape, I got more than my share of raised eyebrows, especially when lifting stacks of books. All in all, not a bad way to spend my evenings.
The "trouble" all started when my ancient supervisor approached me before she left for the evening. "And this is our evening staff member", she turned, and behind her was a student I had only ever seen in the gym. She was about 5'7, long blond hair hanging down her back and big blue eyes with some freckles under her eyes. Her top was little more than a sports bra, completely filled out by her ample bust. Her yoga pants were grey colored and clung to her form. They couldn't have hired a more attractive student if they had tried. "He is our evening supervisor and will train you. This is Tracy, our new student worker."
She shot me a smile and held out a hand, which I took quickly. "Oh. I know you- you're in the gym all the time."
"Well, I do work here occasionally," I said and she laughed. My supervisor cleared her throat, "I'll let you get to it, please show her the printers and copiers too." I nodded and she shuffled out. Tracy and I were left staring at each other.
"So, you're gonna train me now?" I nodded, trying not to get too hard an erection just from having her stand there with her hands on her hips. "Should I know, like, how to shelve-" she turned towards the book shelves and I went a little faint. Her ass was perfect. Whatever angel at the yoga pants company had made a material that clung to every inch of her toned legs and her ass was two perfect half globes that were impossible not to stare at. Not a single line from underwear either, I noticed. She looked back at me over her shoulder innocently, and I had to look away quickly. This was going to be difficult.
"Yeah. Yes. That's a great place to start. So, the way we organize books here is by subject-"
"Like these here?" She walked over and reached up to the top row for a book, raising herself on her tiptoes. Her back arched, and her ass raised up and pushed out towards me as she struggled to get it down. My cock responded accordingly, immediately growing a few inches. I took advantage of her facing away to try and adjust my pants. Any more of this and it would be impossible to hide.
"Yes, those are books- oh, here-" I reached over her and pulled the book down she was struggling with, and she came down off her tip toes, rocking back into me. Being a little over six feet tall, her backside brushed my erection on the way down, and I could swear she pushed herself back a little into me. "Cool, so this here?"
"Yes. Those numbers on the spine are call numbers." In my defense, I tried to move away, but she blocked me completely, looking down at the book in her hands, trapping me between her ass and the bookshelf. From above I could see the shape of her bust, really filling out the stretchy material of her top. She must be a D cup at least. I started breathing a little heavier, and she turned around, rolling her eyes playfully. "Sorry, I'm a
hands-on
learner."
I laughed at that, really the whole situation, and she laughed too. A bright smile that lit up her whole face, and made me even harder than I had been. Then someone from a study table went "SHHH" in our direction and she clamped a hand over her mouth.
"Oh my god- you're the librarian and you're getting shushed!"
"No," I whispered back, "they were shushing you, obviously. That has-"
"No they weren't, oh my god."
"-that has never happened to me before."
She held the book in one hand, shifting her weight. She looked at me with a raised eyebrow "I didn't mean to get you in trouble." Her eyes went down to my crotch, and I knew there was no way she couldn't see the iron crossbar my cock had become. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. For now."
Monday nights just got interesting.
***
I didn't see Tracy until the next Monday when she arrived ten minutes late for her shift.
"Sorry! I'm such a
klutz
!" She chirped, laughing at her own disorganization. She had a backpack, several books, and another bag draped over an arm. "I'm so sorry. I just came from work, obviously." As she ran to clock in, I noticed that she was wearing yoga pants and a sports bra again.
"Wait, what do you mean 'from work'?" She was leaning forward as she typed at the computer, and I could just barely see the edges of her mound through the thin green material. I turned away as she rotated slowly to look at me, keeping her legs affixed, but her torso now pointed towards me. My very own yoga barbie.
"I work at the gym too! Are you saying you've never once seen me there??" I could see her chest heave a little with faux-indignation, and I had to look away. "I-uh-"
"I see you in there all the time and you haven't recognized me once. I bet you don't even know my name." I paused, and pretended to think, and a real frown spread across her face before I said "Tracy," and she let out a little exhale, her breasts shaking ever so slightly under their form fitting restraints.
"Well- I GUESS that will have to do. But the next time you're in the gym you better notice me."
"I will do my best." I said, trying to stay professional. "Because it'll also make a lot of other girls jealous!" she said with a laugh as she went to put her bags away, and I felt my cock jump with the compliment. There are others?
I tried to stay away as much as a I could- usually student workers just help when they are needed and are, essentially, paid to study. Future lawyers have a lot of studying to do. After a few minutes though, she turned to me.
"Soooo is there a girlfriend?" I raised my eyebrows at the question, and she continued. "Is that unprofessional? Like, to ask your BOSS if they have a girlfriend?" "No, it's not unprofessional," I said not looking at her. Out of the corner of my eye she rotated her chair toward me, and clamped her toned thighs together in mock frustration.
"You didn't answer my question. Which I
do
think is unprofessional."
I laughed, and another smile lit up her face. "I am not dating anyone at the moment."
Her mouth hung open. "Well, why not?"
