Better than a book.

The first thing I did when I stepped into the library was make a girl bend over, presenting an open downblouse of her cleavage to my face as I passed, her slightly loose blouse straightening back over her body once she was done 'looking at her shoes to see if she'd stepped on something,' suddenly.

A group of two girls and one boy stood by the educational textbook aisle. As I passed, the boy grabbed hold of both of their lower garments, one a skirt, the other a pair of pants (which was not as well fastened as it usually was, at least at that particular instance where I'd been walking by -- how convenient), and jerked them down, leaving them at the floor. The girls then dropped their phones and bent at a 90-degree angle, asking him to, "Fuck this dry pussy sky high!" or, as the other put it, "Turn my nerdy ass into a butt slut, PLEASE, Jimmy!" Then Jimmy slapped their pantie-clad asses and stuck his fingers up their cream-holes while leering at the twin-course meal before him with unabated hunger, the shlark shlark shlark! of his jazz hands sliding in and out of their abruptly wet, slick orifices (decided to help him out a bit) upending the library's former facade of harmony and diligent study. And yet, no one cared; heads remained buried in epistolary novels and fashion mags and manga volumes as the moans of the girls bounced across the walls. I shook my head.

"Folks these days, huh?" I elbowed a fit-looking, bob-haired brunette who was standing against an offshoot of the wall dividing the computer corner from the rest of the library, and she looked up from her phone to say something, probably some variant of questioning who the [insert soft expletive here] I was, exactly. But like a mole retreating to its tunneled domicile, the words never left her throat. Instead, she pocketed her phone and began pulling the straps of her top from her skin, wrapped tightly around her as it were.

"Hey. I'm kinda crazy too, you know." She grinned toothily. "Case in point..!"

In a flash, and fittingly in both senses of the word, she peeled out of her semi-tanktop and unclipped her bra, tossing them to the carpet without bothering to look. Then, she hefted her breasts up with her hands to my face, and I could see her puffy areolae staring back at me like miniature pink hilltops.

"See these tits?"

"Yes I do."

"Wanna SNIFF these tits?"

The girl squeezed her boobs together as we met halfway. I gracefully wafted their aroma to my nostrils. They smelled of well-groomed female, a little hint of something fruity or some other. Couldn't quite tell.

"That's my new altantic garden perfume I've been trying recently," she smiled. "Hope you like it. Nicky does." She mouthed in silence, That's my boyfriend. Finishing her sentence off with a cheeky triple bounce of her two palm-sized, albeit scrumptiously round, natural breasts in front of me, I gave the upper swells of each endowment a sloppy, one-handed fondle before moving to one of the tables by the center pillars.

A somewhat plain-faced, lonely-looking girl sat by herself there. I approached and tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up from her homework, adjusting her glasses.

"You need a bigger ass," I told her. "Correct that oversight, please."

Without saying a word, she nodded and stood up. She jutted out her skirt-covered butt, now facing the front door a good couple of meters away, and lifted her left leg up. Then she brought it back down and repeated the motion, bringing her leg up and down, up then down, and back again. Almost seemed like some cookie-cutter Pilates technique of some sort; only here, it looked to be adopting the effect of a hydraulic pump, as with each leg lift, her ass cheeks puffed out a little more, rounded up a few centimeters wider, thickened and muscled up a couple hairs further. "Good, very good," I complimented her.

After telling her to stop, she returned to an idle standing position, showcasing just how much her ass had ballooned in the past minute via her ass-pump regimen. I encouraged her to do the same for her modest chest. Again, with the quiet nod. Again, she pulled her limbs together to make the magic happen, raising her arms to her side then bringing them together to touch her elbows, then back again to her sides. As some seconds passed, it seemed she was quite literally 'elbow-testing' her way to bigger tits. After about the half-minute mark, her cardigan-covered shirt was growing more visibly lumpy. By the 60-second mark, her elbows were struggling to make contact with each other. I had her stop, then return to her homework duty, thanking her for her time and recommending she get her fellow curve-deficient female family members and relatives to partake in the practice.

"Boobs and butts are better than a book, after all. Right?"

I didn't expect to get any word out of her lips. But she at least gave an endearing thumbs-up, her breasts now spread out against her binder of Statistics scratch papers on the table below, stretching for life against the cotton fabric of her otherwise non-asserting top.

Meanwhile, the pair of girls from earlier couldn't contain the slightest of moans (maybe or maybe not with a mental nudge from these instincts of mine), one of them crying up to the scaffolding above. "YES oh fuck, yes, fucking YES! Butter up my exotic Latin booty with your hairy DICK, Jimmy!" To which someone nearby jokingly annotated with a, "How hairy?" in a feathered whisper, causing a smatter of giggles. Good to see a sense for humor still sound even in the most upturned of innocent, unassuming heads.