Just minutes after my local Brooklyn library opened, I rushed through the bullet proof glass doors and metal detector as I thought how sad it was that we needed them. A new, blinding, green flash made me wonder if they added something, like xray view. Before I could ponder who would see stored images or lament the loss of privacy, I noticed a compelling hippy in an animated, whispering, argument with the librarian. I was only there for more research into 20^th Century tech, devices, characters and entertainment.

Dressed the part from her flowery bandana on her head, to her sharply cutoff yellow paisley top, to her low rider jeans micro skirt which showed off her long, shapely, toned legs perfectly, and down to her sandals, she was a model hippy or dressed as one. Though the clothes were well worn and her top threadbare, her natural, unpainted face was compelling — equal to Bo Derek in her prime.

As I walked past, my eyes were glued to her so I didn’t notice the missing PCs or the wall of card catalog drawers. When she raised her arm, I noticed three things: her pits were smothered in dense, brown hair; the bottom third of her bare breasts came out; a solid inch of butt crack was permanently out. She turned and smashed into me hard, her eyes red and tear filled. While she blubbered an apology, I offered mine and held her elbows as I asked if I could help.

She stared at me a moment, then threw her arms around me. “Thank you for asking. That mean prude refused to help because of how I’m dressed. She said I was insulting the library.” With my arms around her bare back, I was aware that both breasts were exposed to others nearby. I fought to contain myself and mini me. When I told her that, she answered, “Tits are tits. Half the planet has them and we all have nipples so what’s the big deal? What’s a ‘mini me?”

Thinking she was teasing me, I laughed. She didn’t. Pulling my confused face away let me stare at her exposed nipples and I asked why she was dressed in that sexy costume. “Micro skirts and head bandanas were gone by 1970. Did you lose a bet?”

She pulled back, looking confused and a bit angry. “What do you mean ‘costume?’ This is how I normally dress. My parents don’t approve either, but it’s my body and my right. 1970? What does that mean?” When I unrolled my smart phone, it showed no signal and no internet 8.

“It’s not up to me to judge and approve or disapprove. I don’t even know your name, but I do appreciate beauty when I see it. I love your simple clothes and your natural beauty. I’m Ken. Why don’t we get out of here?” She smiled and nodded. Her dimples lit up the big room. “I’m a sucker for dimples. Now I’m sure you’re trying to seduce me. I can hope, anyway.”

“You are an odd character. Sometimes you talk like you’re from the future, then you use words from the 40s. My name is Moon Ziger. Blame my beatnik parents for that. Let’s walk toward the Hudson.” The Hudson? That was miles away. As she exited the ancient doors, I locked onto her micro skirt. The front was obscenely low with several long, stray hairs escaping the waistline, and the back exposed more than an inch of butt crack before clinging to her curves. No sign of panties. Mini me saluted.

“You must be a swimmer or runner to have such perfect, toned legs. I’m not complaining, but if your skirt were any shorter, I could see your IUD.” I smiled to defuse any insult.

As she teased me by pulling her tiny skirt a little higher on a public street, she said, “Thanks. But my legs are all natural and shaped by all the walking I do. What’s an I U D?” Now I was sure she was teasing me. Though she held her skirt high enough to let some long, curly hairs escape beneath it, she said nothing as she teased mini me to weep.

She took my hand and led me into a suburban part of town. It didn’t look like Brooklyn. Several blocks later, we approached a baseball field for little leagues. The local tweener Angels were playing the Devils. How ironic and appropriate. One of the angels, in green and white, smushed his face against the cyclone fence near us as he caught a ball. We walked past and around the field. “There’s a downhill, rough path to the river. It ends in a small, sandy beach.” Sliding down the eroded, tree-lined path proved she had no panties.

When we reached the beach, she smiled, raised her arms and spun around, breasts exposed and not at all embarrassed. Quickly surprising me, she pulled off her top and skirt. “Let’s catch some rays and feel the wind massage us.” What a stunning, shapely body. She pulled my shirt off and laid down ignoring another naked couple nearby. I stripped and introduced Moon to mini me, who was at full attention. She grabbed him, shook him, and said hello, not at all daunted by my moan. I got on my back and slowly felt connected to nature.

We’d been quietly soaking in the sun for nearly five minutes when Moon straddled me. Her D-cups and hard nipples swung invitingly near my mouth. I took the bait and lapped each nipple before nibbling and sucking it. “That’s for being so nice on our walk and just listening. This,” she shook and pumped mini me back to firmness and aligned it with her wet and willing pussy, “is for supporting me in the library.” Gasping on that last word as she guided my cock into her slippery snatch, she then fully sat on my cock and squeezed it. We moaned together and began our half- horizontal tango.

Remembering the other naked couple, I looked over and saw them in a Tantra, face to face, position, watching us. Mini me lurched and launched harder into Moon, spurred on by our audience. Moon gasped, back arched, head rolled back, hips rolling and thrusting. Her stiff clit pushed out of her pretty pussy and pulsed. Too far away to eat it, I just rolled it in my fingers. When it lurched the third time, she came with a primal scream. Her pussy spasms forced me to cum hard into her. “Your hot cum feels so good as it splashes inside me, and so warm.” The other couple smiled and began their own thrusting and groaning.

Moon caught her breath as she continued to twitch on my cock. Leaving my cock as a temporary cork in her pussy, she spun around into cowgirl position and briefly stared at the other couple copulating. Then she slid back until her mouth aligned with my stiff and soaked cock, and her wet pussy was on my mouth. Though I pinched her puffy, pretty pussy closed, our combined scent was against my nose. I’m not a fan of creme pies, yet when she swallowed my twice drenched cock, I released her labia and licked her clit. As I began to suck it, our mixed creme escaped her sweet pussy. When I focused on her scent and taste, I was able to swallow our mixed treat. Soon, I was sucking and lapping her swollen pussy for more. My cock pulsed the last of my soldiers into her throat and mouth and we froze like that — mouths full of each others fluids and sex. Blissfully, we watched the other couple cum together.

Her tongue lazily wrapped around my cock as I gently lapped her retreating clit. We lay there several minutes on our backs, her pussy wide open near my face so I could comb back her hair and admire its beauty. The other couple stood over us, his thick cock hanging over Moon, the woman’s thick cunt straddling my face so I could admire its hairy beauty. They thanked us for sharing.