Be real with her

“I’m not a great student,” you admit. You don’t try to look and sound cocky, you just do.

The Librarian smiles at you. “No shit,” she replies. “That’s why you’re here.”

You sigh. “Ouch. What I mean is…”

“What you mean is that you think you can sweet talk your way out of doing the work.” She snorts. “Not happening, kid. But I’ll throw you a bone. What would you be doing if you weren’t here?”

You’re surprised by that question.

“Uh…” you say. “Well, I want to go to a CCL party. So I would be talking to people, trying to figure out how to do that.”

The Librarian looks surprised, but only for a moment.

“OK,” she says with a small laugh. “That tells me a lot. So you’d rather think about girls than math.”

“Something wrong with that?” you ask, bristling.

“No.” She puts on a smug look and sits up, demurely laying her long-fingered hand on her generous bosom. “Because I used to be a CCL girl.”

“No shit,” you say, your mouth dropping open.

“Dead serious,” she replies. “1981.”

“Whoa,” you say, your mind blown.

“Yeah. You should be impressed. It was crazy,” she says, and she seems less like a librarian now.

“OK, I’m impressed,” you say, laughing. So she’s gay. You like this.

“Get that horny look off your face,” she says sternly. “Now, listen up. Your weak points are Language Arts and Math. Follow me.” She stands up, and you eagerly get up, ready for whatever comes next. You were worried, but she seems really cool!

She takes you into an aisle, running her finger along the spines of the books.

“Not too much girl on girl on the approved reading list,” she says, smiling over her shoulder at you. “Are you picky?”

You’ve been staring at her round ass in that skirt. You lick your lips.

“Nope,” you say. “I like dick too.”

“Good.” She pulls a book off the shelf and hands it to you. “Nonstop boning. That should keep your interest.”

“Thanks,” you say, both moved and impressed. Neat. A sexy book. You are not a big reader, but this… you can try. “Got a sexy math book?”

“No.” She puts her arm around your shoulders and leads you back to the desk, where she flips the math book open. “But if you do the work and pass the tests, I can get you into a CCL party.”

“Fuck,” you say. You never thought there would be a way that someone could actually motivate you to study. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Enjoy that,” she says, pointing her finger at your face. She pushes the stack of books to you. “Get to work, kid. You want to be broke and alone? Or you want to have a job and touch a booby?”

“I’ve touched boobies,” you assure her. “None as nice as yours,” you add.

“Don’t flirt with me, kid. You aren’t ready.”

Yikes.

“Go,” she says. “Go study.”

You walk out of the school feeling peculiar. One, she’s so sexy. Two, you kind of want to actually study.

That night, as you lie in bed at home with your phone at your ear, twisting the cord around your finger, you’re still thinking about her.

“Kris?” Stef says on the other end of the line. “The librarian? I guess she’s hot. She’s like almost forty.”

“She’s so beautiful,” you say, gazing at your ceiling. “How are you not all over her?”

“Because I’m not all over anyone who works at the school,” Stef says with a laugh.

You turn over and look out the window.

“Gotta go,” you say.

“What?” You hang up on her and scramble to the window, eagerly peering out from between your curtains. Perfect timing.

Mary is home and she’s just taken a shower. She’s wearing a towel and she’s blow-drying her hair. Man… You didn’t get it at first. There are hot girls at every school. Why is Stef stuck on Mary? She’s different. She doesn’t have a magazine in her hand, that’s a real book that she’s reading as she dries. She’s a beauty and a cheerleader, but she doesn’t have that vibe, that energy that so many of them do.

You get your eyes off the book and her pretty face and down to her big, soft boobs tucked into that towel. You can see it pressing on them where she’s tied it. You have touched a boob or two, but never one like that. And Kris’ are even bigger. You are an 18-year-old girl, but it’s time to act like a 13-year-old boy. Keeping your eyes on Mary, you shimmy your shorts and briefs down and wrap your hand around your cock, taking your time with it. It’s just a girl in a towel, but the lines of her body, even in the towel are delectable.

It feels good. You stroke slow and gently.

Mary sets her blow dryer aside, then her book. Are you about to get a flash? You pause, biting your lip as she opens her towel. There it is. The fool frontal… but it’s not a flash. She stretches her arms over her head, arching her back as your eyes drink in her luscious chest and the… neatly groomed, red bush between her legs. Then she lies back and spreads her legs. You could not ask for a better view. You just wish you were closer.

Her hand runs over her breast, down her belly, and you pant hoarsely, your hand going a thousand miles an hour even though she’s barely begun to touch herself.

You whimper and spray the wall below your window with your cum.

“Oh,” you say, leaning against the window. Your breath fogs it, blocking your view. She’s still masturbating. She’s not making a big deal of it… but you can’t take it. You cringe and straighten up again, jerking faster. It aches a bit, but your cock reluctantly gets hard and you manage to blow another load just as she cums. You’re so far away that you can only tell because her knees come together for a moment.

You kneel there, completely out of breath, five dribbly ropes of cum on your wallpaper, staring as she lies there. You can only imagine that the look on her face is… quite content. You’re content too. You flop down on your rug and wipe your sticky hand on your shirt.

Should you tell Stef that you saw this?

Or keep it your secret?