The Librarian
Copyright© 2026 by DangerMouse
Chapter 1: Sent Packing
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1: Sent Packing - The life and times of a male librarian who's attempts to be helpful (without any concern for personal reward) quickly spiral out of his control. This is an edited version of a story I posted about 20 years ago that has somehow disappeared from the site.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Fa/ft Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Anal Sex First Oral Sex Pregnancy Voyeurism
My first few jobs were pretty much what you would expect as I worked my way through school. Finally I ended up as a temp for a large computer company. More correctly, I was a temp for a contractor that managed the IT for a large computer company. That gig was going to end after about a year. I spent most of that year browsing the various want ads and career sites. I wasn’t holding too much hope of finding a job in the same town, so I was actually looking in a larger city about 90 miles away. I accidentally found an advertisement for a position at the public library in my town. Talk about luck.
The position was a perfect fit for me. Half of the time is devoted to computer and software maintenance and the other half to the reference desk. The pay is pretty good and the benefits are great (city job woohoo!!!).
Little did I realize when I was hired, that I would be presented, on almost a daily basis, a bountiful buffet of beautiful bodies to admire (please forgive the alliteration, I am a librarian).
In addition to the desirable women that I work with, there is a string of women and girls that parade through the library. There are many “regulars” that we see often. There are many more that you may only see once or twice. The most wonderful thing is that often they must talk to me. I still haven’t gotten over the fact that, sometimes, I am REQUIRED to ask a beautiful girl for her telephone number. Dear Lord, what a racket. A less upstanding person than I could really make some time (but likely be fired when someone found out). I intend to stay at this job for a good long time, there are too many benefits.
Within my first couple of weeks on the reference desk a very noticeable woman came in. I would guess she was early twenties. She was obviously Asian and wore her long black hair tied back to reveal a slender, graceful neck. She was dressed in very tight, pale yellow jeans. Her top half was adorned with one of those halter type tops that have the puffy or ruffled sleeves. The bodice part was tight over her tummy and breasts, and the neckline was cut to show ample cleavage. Her breasts were large for her frame and were set high and proud on her chest. If he was wearing a bra, it was sheer enough to be of little consequence, as I could easily make out the outline of her dark nipples against her skin. Her tummy was flat and tight and drew the eye directly to the waistband of her low rise jeans.
She approached the reference desk and asked, in accented but perfectly understandable English “May I use an internet computer?”
After asking her if she had a Library card (which is required to log into the internet for time control purposes (she didn’t)), I led her to one of the internet machines which would leave her standing nearly directly in front of me about 15 feet away.
As I logged the guest card number into the system, she stood right at my left elbow. A quick (but lingering) glance from the corner of my eye was rewarded with a view down the front of her blouse. The view was inspiring and, in fact, was starting to inspire a bulge in the front of my pants. I don’t know that she noticed, if she did, she discretely ignored it. I imagine a girl that looks like her is used to attention, and reactions along those lines. The skin of her décolletage was smooth, tan and flawless. I could see her nipples pushing against the fabric. They were at least semi-erect. The sight nearly caused my heart to skip a beat.
I finished logging her in and gave her a few instructions. As I gave her the instructions, I looked into her eyes. They were a beautiful amber/brown and seemed to glow from within. My voice quivered a little, and I nearly forgot to breathe. The corners of her mouth twitched into a barely perceptible smile, which broadened as she thanked me for my assistance.
I, of course, replied with all the grace and suave elegance of James Bond (if he was suffering from a debilitating concussion). “No problem.”
For the first time that I can remember, I actually had the urge to say truthfully, “The pleasure was all mine.” But, alas, I remained mute and retreated to the bastion of the reference desk.
I don’t believe my eyes left her while she remained at her computer. The computers face the reference desk, so she was positioned with her back to me. My gaze traveled up and down her body several times. Her long, elegant legs were perched atop a set of low heeled sandals that exposed most of her foot. The denim of her jeans cradled a perfect, tight ass (her jeans were tight enough that I could tell she carried nothing in her pockets). The small of her back was exposed by the top she was wearing. The skin looked every bit as perfect as it was in her cleavage. The lacey edge of the top of her panties poked above the waistband at the top of her pale yellow denim jeans. Her long hair hid the back of her neck from my view (maybe I could ask her to put it up for a while). Her fingers danced lightly over the keys as she checked her email.
After she stood for a while she shifted positions a bit. I don’t know where they learn it, but some girls have this natural ability to stand in the sexiest way. She bent her right leg and braced it by placing her right foot on her left leg near her knee. She balanced there with the elegance of some Asian crane. For some reason I had a desire to try my hand at origami (Dewey #: 736.982). I was entranced to say the least. Her every movement was a study in gracefulness.
She finished her task on the internet and logged off. As she walked by my desk, she flashed a warm smile and thanked me again. Her breasts lightly jiggled with every step. I was left with another inspiring view of her backside as she headed toward the elevator. Her hips swaying, every so slightly as she moved. I think I caught her glancing back toward me (perhaps just to confirm that I was indeed watching her (they always know, don’t they)). As the doors opened, she entered and selected the button for the ground floor. Then she turned around, a warm smile spreading on her face. The doors closed and she was gone. I was left with the memory of that smile, the gleam in her eyes, and a sweet, but somehow spicy scent in the air. I don’t know if it was her perfume or her lunch that I might have been smelling (didn’t really care either, for that matter, the smell certainly indicated something good to eat).
I was in a bit of a haze for the rest of the shift. About all I remember is attempting to stay behind the desk for the rest of the shift because of my raging hard-on. Staying behind the desk wasn’t much of a problem (I didn’t yet know where much of anything was). This provided ample time to reflect on the beauty that I had just witnessed. Reflection on the subject did little to ease my erection, of course.
I drove home in that semi-automatic way that you do sometimes. You look up and realize you’ve gone a mile or so, and don’t remember anything about it.
When I got home, the sight of my wife bending over the oven to remove our dinner reawakened the desires that I had experienced before. It was a simple matter to redirect those desires to my wife (fortunately). I sidled up behind her and, after making sure she had put down the casserole, wrapped my arms around her from behind. The little twitch in her body told me she hadn’t heard me enter. But she soon melted into my arms. My hands moved gently up to cup her breasts. They aren’t huge (B cups) but they certainly suit the purpose at hand. I could feel her nipples stiffen into the palms of my hands. My erect cock pressed against her ass. She gently rotated her hips so that her ass stroked my cock.