(Grace) The room of borrowed things

Come lunch Grace was already receiving panicked texts from a sibling in need. The role of den-mother never really ceased in this world of constant communication. A dedicated sister was often called upon to give advice and reassurances to even her much older relatives, disillusioned with their places in the world… That, or send the occasional up-skirt photo when they were bored. It felt good to know she could still arouse them, even from miles away.

This time however it was the closest brother who was requesting her help, just from across the schoolyard, so to speak. Jake had a habit of using his big sister to impress his friends, when they ran out of other games to play. Their year was a divided one after all, just at the cusp of adulthood, when half the students had come of age and could join the madness above, and half could not. Grace was well aware that cries to ‘help them with a homework assignment’ were more often than not mere false flag operations to pin her in their midst. But she was quite simply incapable of refusing her darling brother when he asked for her help. The boy seemed to delight in letting his current band of associates loose on her body, while both of them simply maintained the illusion that whatever assignment he had been set was the real focus of the moment.

Arriving at the library, Miss Yarland was greeted by the normal sights. Rows and rows of books segmented the room into various cordoned-off lounge areas where varying tables, chairs or comfortable beanbags were laid out for reader’s to drape themselves in. The desk lay near the door, where a middle-aged librarian oversaw all comings and goings. The tight lipped woman spent all day everyday leaning upon that desk, taking on a role much akin to Simones: painstakingly ignoring the students who buzzed around her like flies. Though she seemed to have no qualms at all about letting them slide themselves inside her whenever they felt like it, only jumping up and off them when an emergency called… such as a female student orgasming too loudly in the recesses of her domain.

Funnily enough the perpetrator in question was usually one of her own voluntary helpers. Young men and women who’s shy bookishness was only overcome by putting themselves out as moving furnishings in this dimly-lit haven. The library was one of the more pleasant places to fuck during the school day, after all. If you were the sort of person who preferred to be approached and claimed for an hour, rather than throw yourself around loudly… here was the place to encourage such. It was generally considered that everything could be rented that hung around this building too long. Visiting tourists had a habit of printing the erstwhile helpers with the same ink stamps which were used to borrow books. Some ended up quite covered in smudging red dates come the end of the day.

Grace passed one such creature being invaded quite viciously by two students at once, on top of the trolley she had presumably been trying to use to replace a stack of books with. The girl’s prim school dress was wrapped around her head so that she could neither see nor struggle much against her companions, who were pumping in and out of both her lower holes with all they could muster. Concerned, the senior was almost at the point of intervening… when she recognised the muffled voice coming from within the dress: Tanya, one of Grace’s contemporaries in many of the extra-study groups. An acquaintance who the more homely girl quite liked and respected, save for just how loquaciously she could go on about the merits of being tied up and anally ravaged. To each their own… but Grace would win no appreciation from putting her foot in this situation. She already had a hanging label of ‘Prude’ over her head for constantly stepping in and checking the rules of consent were being followed. Not that she much cared what the bitchier elements whispered… It just seemed silly to her that occasionally worrying about others was seen as such an offence against physical love in general. Especially when pretty much everyone saw her getting a mouthful of it every morning… School popularity ran on such flawed logic…

Young miss Yarland moved on, to find her dearest brother.