Meet Me By the Kama Sutra (Regular Sex Issue 4) by Kitty French Read Free Book Online Page B

bowtie and
braces; I had to practically ask him outright for sex before he clocked on. To
give him his dues though he was a right horn-dog once he got going, I don’t
know which of us was sadder when he graduated and moved back home for the
summer.
    My only unbreakable
rule is that my boss must never find out; I’d be fired for certain and I love
this job. It’s back to the books again, you see. I get to read voraciously for
free, and I write too. One of these days my book will be on these shelves, you
just wait and see.
    So on to the
third type of man, my favourite kind, Mr. middle-of-the-road. These guys are
usually here to research something particular, or maybe to grab some quiet time,
always alone, relatively easy to reel in. Huey is one of these guys. I know his
name from his library card, and I know that he finds me attractive because I’ve
caught him glancing at me. He’s cute, all dark hair and stubble, and I like the
way he looks away quickly as if he’s been caught doing something wrong. He’s
got that shy-guy vibe going on, and interestingly, I sense that underneath it,
he probably isn’t shy at all.
     
    I’m in the
reference room now, which by and large is the quietest room in the place. I’m
especially fond of the sliding ladder to reach the top shelves, and of the
small milkmaid style stools provided for working on the lowest rows. There’s an
old school smell in here too, dusty leather and floor polish, it takes me back
to my student days and reminds me of several terms of torrid sessions with my
foreign languages tutor. I’ve been fluent in both French and fellatio for some
years now thanks to him.
    I dressed for
Huey this morning. Suspenders, my favourite lace underwear, high heels. He’s
been coming in here for a few weeks now and still hasn’t made his move, so I’ve
decided to take matters into my own hands. Literally.
    I can hear
footsteps approaching. It better be him rather than mac man.
     
    HUEY
     
    I’ve never been
in the reference room before. I don’t see Sylvie immediately as I step inside,
just aisles of austere looking books that look less used than the well-thumbed
fiction books in other parts of the library. It’s a serious, scholarly kind of
room, at curious odds with the pleasure I’m hoping to find in here. A rustle at
the far end of the room snags my attention and I walk slowly past the rows of
books, all the way to the end aisle where I find Sylvie innocently filing a
large, weighty leather tome back into place. She glances my way and I pause,
suddenly unsure what to do next.
    Christ, but she’s
hot. I haven’t entertained serious sexual thoughts about anyone other than my
ex this way for years, and suddenly I’m eighteen again with sweaty palms and
one nervous eye on the door in case anyone comes in.
    ‘Come closer.’ She
turns her back to the shelves to watch me walk towards her. As I draw near I
can see that glow in her eyes again, the thrill of doing something she shouldn’t.
    ‘So,’ she says,
lifting her eyebrows. ‘Take a better look, Huey. Can you see my bra through my
blouse?’
    She pouts, hands
on her hips, shoulders back, pushing her tits out towards me. I look down, and
yes, I can just about make out the outline of her bra.
    ‘I’m not sure I
can, Sylvie.’ I rest my elbow on the shelf beside her and trace my fingertip
over her jaw.
    ‘Would it help if
I unbuttoned my blouse?’ she asks, almost innocent.
    I try to look as
if it’s a question with more than one possible answer.
    ‘I think it
would,’ I say, and she smiles then runs her fingers down her body, flicking her
buttons open then gripping the bottom hem of her blouse and opening it wide.
    I make an
involuntary noise in my throat, a low sigh of appreciation, and she presses a
finger to my lips.
    ‘We have to be
quiet,’ she mouths. I nod, then nip her fingertip and suck it inside my mouth,
and her eyes widen a little when I swirl my tongue around it.
    ‘I can see your
bra better