"Isn't she pretty?" Julie whispered in my ear, "I wonder what she's reading." Her lips warm and intimate by my earlobe. "Do you think she'd like you to make love to her?"

We were in one of the more obscure sub-basements of the main library at the U, in the Medical Law archives. Julie was doing research for a paper, and I was keeping her company, dozing, and covertly admiring the young woman seated at a desk on the other side of the alcove. The archetypal pretty repressed young librarian, hair pulled tightly up behind her head, in a trim and paradoxically sexy grey suit and white shirt, wire-frame glasses. I'd been fantasizing about quiet bookish sex between her and the college kid who wheeled by occasionally with the shelving cart.

I grinned and turned my head quickly, to catch Julie's lips with mine. She let me kiss her; her mouth, as ever, small and soft and sweet. Then she looked over at my librarian.

Feeling her gaze, the librarian looked up from her book. Polite and professional at first, a "what can I do for you, Miss?" look, her eyes gradually brightened and softened as they looked at each other. By the time Julie turned back to me, the librarian's face was surprised, joyful, her skin flushed. "Go over and touch her," said Julie very quietly, "she'd like that."

I raised my eyebrows. Although the young woman had gone back to her book, I saw that one graceful hand now rested on top of the desk, toward us. As I watched, her forefinger extended, and then crooked, in one slow, obvious beckoning motion. For an instant her grey eyes looked up from the book and sparkled at me. I rose and walked to her.

I stood behind her, looking down at the top of her head, the shoulders of her jacket, her lap disappearing under the desk. She didn't look up. Her hand moved off of the desk to turn a page of her book. I reached down and put one hand on her shoulder. She sighed the quietest of sighs, and her body shifted minutely in the chair. I smelled a hint of floral perfume.

In the alcove, the kid with the cart stood across the table from Julie, transfixed by her eyes. He was a tall brown-haired boy, probably nineteen, like Julie. As I watched, Julie's face lit up, and the boy leaned foward, lowering himself across the table like a dancer, his legs long behind him, his face close to hers. Slowly, they kissed.

I moved my hand along the librarian's shoulder, up the side of her head. Her ear was small and pink, long-lobed, with a round silver earring. Her hair was soft and clean. I undid the clip holding it back, and it tumbled down around her face, over her shoulders. My skin tingled under my clothes.

Julie took the boy's head in her hands and opened her mouth, kissing him deeply and passionately. His hands moved down over her body. The librarian turned another page. I ran my fingers over her hair, down her forehead, over her eyelids. She raised one hand to mine, and drew my fingers to her lips. One at a time, she took my fingers into her mouth, sucking each one gently into her. Her tongue was soft and warm against my skin, sliding along my fingernails. A low groan welled in my throat.

Julie was standing now, the boy still on the table, his head at the level of her chest. She grinned down at him as he undid the buttons of her shirt and nuzzled her small perfect breasts. He licked her nipples, and they came erect. He slid his hands under her shirt, behind her, and drew her body closer to him. His tongue was long and wet, playing over her skin. She closed her eyes and caressed his shoulders with her hands.

My librarian closed her book and turned her head, my finger coming out of her mouth, wetting her cheek with her own saliva. She turned and stood up, her body almost touching mine, and put her arms slowly around my neck. Behind her, the boy finished unwrapping Julie, and took her in his strong young arms. Warm grey eyes looked into mine, deep and elegant behind the glasses, the woman's face happy but serious, her breasts and her left knee just brushing against me through our clothes. We moved our heads together, our noses touching gently, the clean flowery smell of her in my nostrils. We kissed lightly, softly, mouths closed and eyes open. I touched the back of her jacket, drew her forward an inch, and her body was against me, and our mouths pressed together completely, lips on lips, my heart almost painful in my chest. She closed her eyes, and her tongue came softly into my mouth.

An eternity later, she drew her face away from mine, smiling. Over her shoulder, I saw Julie, naked, on her back on the table among piles of books, her legs spread, her body open to the youth, grinning at him as he fumbled with his pants, idly moving her hands over herself and waiting for him.