The stairway up to the private reading room was steep. Hans let Amanda go ahead, the better to look at her lovely little ass, she was sure. She wiggled a little, just to tease him. She felt his hand there now, and then his voice. One word. “Wait.” She stopped and waited. “Two things,” he said, facing her now, standing on her step. “Two things you have to know.” He looked very solemn. His face was close. Close enough to kiss. Her lips parted. “Don’t make a sound,” he said. “Complete quiet. Not even if there’s a fire. Do you think you could manage that?” Amanda nodded. Solemnly. Though she wanted to laugh. Or at least giggle. He was so solemn. And so serious. She nodded again. She mimed the key locking her lips. She opened her mouth to toss the key in. He kissed her.

The private reading room was all but empty. Large long wooden desks. Padded chairs. A strange man, silver hair, silly glasses, sitting in an alcove near the door. Hans selected two large books from the packed shelves along one long wall and then he seated Amanda at a chair in the last row. He sat next to her. The larger of the two volumes he set before Amanda. The funny man in the alcove glanced at them and then looked away, sternly shy. Above him at the apex of the front wall the long rectangular window was of pink and red stained glass, a reclining nude, her body pierced by afternoon sun. Amanda moved her eyes to Hans. He nodded, as if acknowledging the erotic window, and put his finger to his lips, reminding Amanda of the edict. But then he moved his finger between his lips, sucked his finger briefly, and then placed it at Amanda’s lips. The finger played gently on Amanda’s plump bottom lip, sliding slowly back and forth, before pushing into Amanda’s mouth. Sick, sock, suck, she mentally mock-conjugated as she tasted his finger. His dear moisture. A moment later his finger was out, and Amanda prepared to open the book Hans had selected for her. No sooner had she edged the heavy cover up than she felt Hans’s hand at the button of her pants. Surely he couldn’t be thinking ... Some suction kept the book’s cover in place. The button of her pants gave way, and Hans’s hand slipped inside, then inside the simple cotton panties. His hand eased along her warm, smooth skin. His fingers slipped into the hot, moist slot of her sex. Slit, slot, slut, Amanda whispered to herself, remembering to maintain silence at all costs. Not even if there’s a fire. Slit, slot, slut, slit, slot, slut—there was a fire! Hans’ finger stroked her clitoris—stroked and stroked until her clit caught like kindling. He stoked the fledgling fire until her whole body burned. His finger plunged lower, pushing its way into the plush wet of cunt. The succulence he retrieved couldn’t douse the flames. The ensuing flood failed to quench the conflagration. Amanda could no longer contain herself. Overwhelmed, she gasped and gasped again. Her howl of ecstasy, like the orgasm itself, was silent but wholly satisfying.

The man from the alcove got up and crossed the room. “Quite the potty mouth your girlfriend has,” he said, as he unbuttoned his pants. His cock sprang out surprisingly large and inviting—not overly stern at all. Not shy in the least.

Holding her head, Hans guided Amanda so her mouth could fasten and feast upon the engorged phallus. The bulbous cockhead expanded, filling Amanda’s juicy mouth to perfection. Hans nudged Amanda further so that her lips surrounded the bunched foreskin, and the penis slit kissed the back of her throat. She took him deeper, deeper, until his swollen balls bounced softly against her chin. She sucked skillfully, avidly, eager to reap the reward: jolt after jolt of hot, creamy cum. When he came, Amanda swallowed as much as she could.

On the way down the stairs from the private reading room Amanda said, “Wait. You said there were two things I had to know. What was the second thing?”

His smile gave her the answer, but he said the words anyway. “I love you.”