There you are again. Every day this week when I come into the library, you're sitting at that table. I can feel you staring at me with those black eyes as I come and go. Not smiling. Not nodding a greeting. Not saying hi. Just staring. It's creepy.
I don't think I'll make a trip to the library tomorrow. My e mail can wait one day. I'll be so glad when my home computer is fixed. I hate having to come all the way into town just to use a public computer.
So I skip Thursday. On Friday, there you are. At that table between the elevator and the stairs. I go to the reference section and pick up a magazine to flip through. I peek at you over the magazine as I pretend to read. Yep, you're looking straight at me, as I knew you would be. Creep. A woman walks by your table with an armload of books and she drops one. You pick it up for her and stand to give it back to her with a smile. You're not bad looking, nice smile. Maybe you're not a bad guy after all. You turn your dark eyes back to me, and the nice smile disappears. Back to the penetrating stare. Those dark, dark brown, almost black eyes.
I put the magazine back on the shelf and walk to the elevator. I can feel your eyes burning into my back as I push the button and wait for the doors to open. They open and I hurry on, feeling that somehow the small space offers some protection from those ever present eyes. As I turn to face the front, you get up from the table and look in. Our eyes crash together. You stand there with your arms crossed over your chest, your black eyes boring a hole right through me. There isn't much space between us, and you make no move to get on the elevator.
"Khan," you say in a clear quiet voice only I can hear. The doors seem to stay open for an unusually long time today. Our eyes are still locked together as the doors finally slide close.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I've never had this feeling before. I'm scared of you. And yet, you are sexy in some perverted way. Damn. Those eyes. So dark. Khan. What? His name? First or last? Odd name. It goes with his odd behavior.
I go into the computer lab and sit at an open terminal. Damnation. There you are outside the lab's glass partition at the nearest table. You must have run up the stairs.
Khan. Is he a nice man, or a stalker or something? He may be Jack the Ripper reincarnated. How come he just doesn't come up and say hi and introduce himself in a normal way?
I get my business done at the computer and hurry out, not looking at you at all. I look in my rear view mirror for the first couple of blocks, half way expecting to see you following me. Twenty minutes later, I pull into the drive at my little country home. I like living by myself out here. Mom and Dad didn't like the idea of their little girl moving out here. But after college, I wanted to be on my own, and I loved this quiet spot out of town. Today, I sit in the car for a few minutes, still watching the rear view mirror. I was a little afraid to get out for some reason. "Shit," I muttered to myself. "I'm getting paranoid."
The weekend passes by normally. A few times I think of the mysterious 'Khan'. He's cute. He's weird. He's sexy. He's creepy. He's tall. He's scary.
I begin to think of you again on my way to the library Monday evening. I called the computer shop and the guy said maybe another week. He had to order a part from China or something. How come I was sort of glad that I had to come to the library again? I must be crazy to feel anything at all for that weirdo. It's late when I get around to get into town. It's a little after 8 p.m. and the library closes at 9.
It didn't seem to matter what time I made my daily trip to the library, you were always there.
Oh, wait. I'm surprised. You aren't here. I spend thirty minutes in the lab, writing some letters and answering my e mail. I look at the table outside the lab, and you aren't there. You aren't at your table by the elevator. I breathe a sigh of relief. But on the other hand, I kind of miss you.
It's quiet in the library at this late hour, and most everyone else has gone. I say goodnight to the woman still sitting at the reference desk, and walk out the door.
I turn the corner of the building, and out of the shadows I'm grabbed and pushed into the dark area between the bicycle rack and a short brick wall. The wall has a bench attached to it on the other side. I scream, but it's cut short by a heavy hand slapped across my mouth. I squirm and kick as you push me against the side of the big building.
I know it's you. The weird Khan. You slam me into the scratchy brick surface. The rough outside wall scratches my back. You have one arm around the back of my neck, with your hand curled over my mouth, and the other arm around my hips. Your face is inches from mine. The light of the full moon is reflected in your dark pupils. The look in your black eyes goes right through me.
You push several fingers into the crack of my ass, probing. The material of my stretch pants is between your fingers and my puckering back door. Your breath is hot, blowing the hair by my ear.
"Settle down. You'll only wear yourself out," you whisper.
You spin me around in your arms, so my back is against your chest. You grope at my breast squeezing it and at the same time you shove your other hand down the front of my pants.
"Mmmmmmmm,' you moan. "I knew you were a naughty girl, Anna, you don't wear panties do you?" You stroke your hand across my lower tummy, your fingertips just touching my hairline. "I could always tell that you didn't wear any. In your tight jeans, there was never any panty-lines across your ass." Your fingertips move a fraction of an inch down. "Tell me why you don't wear panties you nasty cunt."
I draw in a deep breath. "How----" I swallow and cough to clear my throat. "How do you know---my name?"
"Tell me!" You shout. You grab my chin and turn my face toward you. Then the whisper is back. "Tell me why you don't wear panties."
You put your palm flat on my tummy and press me tighter against you. I can feel that you are hard. You rock your hips against my butt slightly.
"You look so nice and proper. Always dressed nice. Your long hair always fixed up nice. You push your hips suggestively forward and your hand tightens on my stomach, squeezing me to you. "I like it when you wear it down and let it swing free."
Your right hand still on my chin, your lips just a whisper away from mine. Your other hand is on my stomach holding me firmly.
"But you aren't a proper lady are you? I've seen you looking at all the men in the computer lab."
You take your hand out of my pants, and put it on my breast kneading it with your strong hand and fingers. Then going to the other breast you knead it feeling my nipple harden even more. You release me only long enough to grab a hold of my blouse at each breast and rip it open, tearing four buttons off and exposing my dark blue bra. Before I could come to my senses and try to run, you grab me again with your hand on my crotch and the other hand on my right breast. My butt is against your groin. I start squirming, but I don't cry out. Slowly, ever so slowly, you work your fingers inside my bra and find my hard nipple.
You jerk your other hand away from my crotch and cup my chin again, pulling my face to within an inch of your mouth.
"I knew your nipples would be hard you horny slut. That day when you got on the elevator, did you know that your nipples hardened just from looking at me?"
You massage the tender flesh of my breast, and squeeze my sensitive nipple hard. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? You probably didn't even realize that your body was responding to me without my even touching you."
I gasp from the sharp pain and lean over to try and shake off your hands. I scream. You clamp your hand over my mouth after just the tiniest sound.
You continue to speak close to my ear. "Do you know what you do every time you look at a man?" You take your hand off my mouth and jam it down the front of my pants again. You stop just before you reach the top of my slit. "Do you know?"
I shake my head side to side.
"Liar. You squeeze your thighs together."
You move your hand across my hip and down to my inner thigh.
