7 comments/ 24790 views/ 1 favorites Secondary Research By: Harlan009 Normally, this was his favourite time of day. No one in the library but him. Just him and the books. Ahhh, the books, his books. Inhaling deeply, he could almost taste the knowledge contained within these tombs, some bound with loving care, others with a splash of glue and little thought. Many people sneezed when they entered the library, the tickle of motes combined with the relative gloom of the lighting affecting olfactory senses in an odd way. Normally, this was Brayden Look's favourite time of day. Pushing his well-worn fingers through his dusty hair, adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses, a deep sigh escaped his lips. A sigh he hadn't even been aware he was holding on to. What was wrong? The glasses got pushed up into his hair as he pondered his troubles, checking and analyzing it as though it were merely a complex experiment. The numbers didn't add up, the formula refused to balance. Heart rate - acceptable. Skin temperature - cool, but then then he kept the library a couple degrees cooler than normal to preserve his books. Not enough for it to be damp, but he rarely saw someone visit this shrine twice in shorts. Skin Temperature - cool, but expected. Pallor - a quick glance at a slightly grimy mirror later, normal. Intellect - he ran his gaze over the cover of the new Psychology Psurvey and comprehended all the Pull Up quotes on the cover. Sharp. What then? Brayden shook his head and glanced at the antique analog clock hanging over his desk, a gift from a wealthy bibliophile upon her passing. Ms. Dolores Goldberg, former councilor of the nearby university and secret devourer of harlequin romances. The clock told him the library should have opened it's doors to the hoards 3 minutes ago. Scurrying from behind his enclave, he deftly unlocked the main doors with practiced ease. "Good morning, book lovers." he said to the world outside his doors. "Greetings, Mr. Look." quavered a timid voice to his left. Brayden gave the smallest of double takes, and then his face creased into a wide smile. The effect was startling, although Brayden had no idea of that whatsoever, he morphed from aloof to gregarious in a moment. "Mr. McKenzie, I should have known. I hope you weren't waiting long." Mr. McKenzie cackled an querulous tired laugh as he limped past Brayden into the hall of books, pausing to rap him across the shins with his well worn cane. The cane was a cherished gift from his wife, the limp an unwanted souvenir from Juno Beach. "Boy, all I got is time now. You didn't fill in the New York Times Crossword didja?" "Of course not, do you think I have a death wish? And where is your lovely wife?" "Doctor's appointment." he rasped. "Is everything alright?" questioned Brayden. "'course. But I'll tells ya a secret, boy, come here," he crooked his finger and beckoned Brayden closer, "we're getting' old!" Then he brayed his cantankerous guffaw and plunked himself down in the most comfortable chair in the library, pulled the New York Times in front of him and opened it with well practiced ease to the crossword puzzle. He pulled a well worn stub of a pencil from his jacket pocket, licked the dull lead tip and immersed himself in the puzzle before him. Brayden smiled to himself as he wandered pack to sort through the weekly arrivals. Mr. McKenzie turned his head to watch the young man walk back to his counter, shook his head marginally as he knew instinctively what Brayden, for all his intellect and wisdom, hadn't the foggiest idea about. 'Boy needs a roll in the hay,' he thought, and went back to his crossword 19 Across - Vineyard Kin, scratching his head and mulling over the vineyards of France he visited during World War II. Brayden thumbed through the books, smelling that new book smell that caused shivers to course along his spine each and every time he smelled a new book. There was something pure and holy to him about the smell of a new book, and the feel of virgin pages as he flipped through the new tomb, and when... oh when he cracked the spine of a book, sending deep creases into the soul of a book. Such an infusion of power. His breath caught in his throat for a moment at the memories of broken spines of well loved books. Soon after his posting to his library he made a realization that felt like going from the ability to weakly crawl to the being given the gift of flight. Book for book, this library could never hope to compete with the university, instead, Brayden made this library a complimentary resource to the massive book shrine at the university, not to mention countless, site specific enclaves of books; in departments, in professor's offices, in the records. Brayden sighed, 'no, my little selection of books can't compete with such a treasure trove of all things academic.' Instead of feeling jealousy or spite, Brayden worked his social skills to perfection, chatting amiably and eagerly with devotees to the mighty word on campus. Finding out their needs, their wishes, their requests. Book lovers are a unique sort, they may have nothing in common but the joy of the page, but if they find that common ground, well, the most amazing conversations unfold, over coffee, or beer, or a stale muffin or sheaves of paper. In the proper atmosphere, it became near impossible to shut Brayden up, through careful cultivation, this library received author's copies of many new works published by professors, students and alumni from the university. If the university was the sun of knowledge in this town, then standing prominent amongst it's planets was Brayden's library. Today though, today the usual pleasures were just not that pleasurable. He stocked the shelves with his typical, impeccable skill but he experienced no joy. Even the new additions to his family failed to bring a smile to his face. He slumped behind his desk and sifted through the various piles of paperwork, a quick double glance at the calendar elicited an involuntary groan, mid-terms would now be done and the students would suddenly realize that those term papers that seemed to be so far off just a few days ago loomed larger and more menacing than ever. The time of procrastination was at an end, soon they'd arrive, most nervous and clueless as to Dewey and his fine decimal system, rifling through the books on television and querying him. "why that book by Homer isn't here." Damn Simpsons. Great show though. Not that he watched much television, the Simpsons and, yes dammit, reality shows were his two vices. It was a double-edged sword. Most clueless, some very cute, very attractive, very sexy. And he could never muster any semblance of courage to flirt or ask a pretty co-ed out on a date. He dreamed of being wily Odysseus, but ending up resembling the Cowardly Lion. "Hey Brayden-boy, wakey wakey!" called the firm growl of Mr. McKenzie snapping Brayden from his reverie. "Wh-what? Oh sorry, have you been waiting long?" "'bout 10 minutes. Now go git me my coffee. My leg's a bit gamey today. Here's a quarter, keep the change!" and he spiraled a quarter, end over end from his table all the way across the open space to bounce off the main check-out counter and onto Brayden's unkempt desk. Naturally, Brayden missed catching the coin. "I'm not supposed to leave my desk, sir. That would be a dereliction of duty!" "Yer gonna feel my cane across your derry-air if ya don't go n' fetch me some java." he shot back, "'n make sure it's white cream n' whiter sugar. Two o' each." Picking up the quarter, Brayden flipped the coin in the air and grabbed it awkwardly as he shucked on his jacket and toque, scarf and gloves as he made the relatively short trek to the Tim Hortons across the street. Being Brayden, he used the crosswalk and the empty stretches of road barely tempted him to jaywalk. Still musing to himself about Mr. McKenzie, his books and the babes who'd shortly be visiting his book repository he made his way to the counter of Tim Hortons. He removed his gloves and laid the quarter down on the clean arborite top. He squinted a bit to try and get the prices to come into focus, eventually he resorted to putting on his glasses. "Two medium coffees, if you please kind barista." he said to the young lady behind the counter. "With just one quarter?" she giggled. "It appears," Brayden glanced at her name tag, "Candice, that I've been misinformed. Still, two medium coffees and... oh why not... a box of 20 Timbits." "Candice is an old woman's name, everyone calls me Candi" she tittered back. "Candy is a sugary confection for the palate after a proper meal, not the name of a proper young woman." he stated, sure that this would end any discussion on the matter. "Wouldn't it have been easier to just say I'm a sweet dessert?" Candi replied with a smirk as she placed the order before him and took his money. Brayden went a Christmas-shade of red and he spluttered and blustered out an apology. "Don't be silly. You'll just have to be extra sweet to me when I come looking for some books this week." Brayden wandered back to the library in a state of mild befuddlement, completely forgetting to retrieve his change from Candi, er Candice. Unseeingly he placed the coffee, sugar and cream beside Mr. McKenzie who still worked diligently at his crossword. The nub of a pencil tucked behind his ear as he rubbed his lip and racked his brain for a tough to decipher clue. He muttered something under his breath that Brayden didn't hear. Brayden turned to head back to his area when he felt Mr. McKenzie's cane lash across his calf, causing him to jump and nearly spill his coffee. 'Apropos, if I spilled on the floor the first time I ever allow myself a drink outside of the staff room.' Mr. McKenzie cleared his throat again, more obviously than before. "Boy, I said BOY! Give yer head a shake or you'll taste my stave once more." "Sorry." Brayden said, snapping out of his musings. "I said, ya deaf lout, that there's a comely lass over in that section," he waved his cane in a circle, encompassing half the library, "who needs yer help. Cute lil number too, good engine, great caboose." He hooted at his own ribald behaviour and went about adding sugar and cream to his coffee. Frazzled once more, Brayden deposited his drink at the check-out counter and rushed off in search of the 'comely lass.' A quick search of the general area pointed out by Mr. McKenzie found the comely lass in the Abnormal Psychology section, bent at the waist and scanning the bottom shelf. Braden, in turn, scanned her bottom. 'A great caboose indeed.' Clad in a pair of worn and frayed blue jeans that were worn for comfort and not style, with the smallest of holes under the left pocket, leaned a near perfect pair of globes. She leaned on one leg as she checked the lowest shelf, her left buttock pressed back to support her weight, her right leg bent slightly and in front of her left. Brayden found himself paralyzed, entranced by the magnificent 'caboose' right there in front of him. An involuntary response in the base of his brain sent a message to his groin, causing his primal function to flare suddenly to life, a flare that actually caused his whole body to give a slight jump and 'the great caboose' to notice. She looked back at him from under her left arm. For the second time in 30 minutes, Brayden flushed crimson. "No thanks, I'm watching my figure. Although apparently so are you." her slow, easy drawl teased him, with just a hint of an accent he couldn't place. If possible, he achieved a deeper shade of crimson. She stood and turned slowly to face him, Brayden never caught the determined swivel of her waist as she spun around. Before him stood Aphrodite! No, not a goddess, but Circe the temptress who had so beguiled wily Odysseus. Beyond mere mortal woman, but oh so tangible. Long, sleek, shimmering blonde locks cascaded down across her shoulders, piercing ice blue eyes that penetrated into the depths of his being twinkled mischievously at him. Pouty, cupid's bow lips curled upwards in look of pleasure; pleasures of the distance past, pleasures of the moment and pleasures of a possible future. "No, I, uh, he, you, here, these... um..." he trailed off into an awkward silence, clearly out of sorts. "Take a few deep breaths, clear you head and start again." A few deep breaths later and some form of clarity had been achieved. Not easily though, as this vision smelled of rainwater and spices, which clouded his mind and entranced his brain. Steeling his will on the cardboard ridges of the box of doughnut bits in his hand, he focused his mind, using the tricks that earned him numerous scholarships and awards and a perennial spot on the Dean's List during his own university days. "The snacks are for Mr. McKenzie, the gentleman I have no doubt you heard, if not saw when you entered the library. You are, of course, more than welcome to partake of some sugary confectionery should you so wish. Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Brayden Look, caretaker of the books you find yourself amongst. Judging by the section your peruse, I'd hazard to guess you're in a third or forth year psychology course, with a mid-term due within 6 weeks. Furthermore, from the shelf you just scanned, you most likely have a goodly portion of your primary sources selected and are looking to support them, or find a competing theory to flesh out your paper. Finally, your professor is almost assuredly Dr. Iser." Now it was the blonde's turn to blush, although, in her defence, it was more a pinkening of her cheeks, than the full face flush Brayden suffered moments ago, also, she looked a damn site cuter it happened. "How...?" she began. "I may not have had the pleasure of your acquaintance, but I am intimately well versed with my books," he replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll withdraw with perhaps a modicum of dignity." And he very well might have, if not for the fact he spun the wrong why and promptly found his nose pressed against books on the occult. He paused their, waves of embarassement radiating from his beet-red face once more. His eyes closed as he counted slowly and methodically to ten, then turned on his heel and marched from the row, dropped the Timbits beside Mr. McKenzie and walked as quickly as possible without breaking into a trot behind the counter and the relative security it offered. He strode into the back room, the employee's room and flung himself onto a hard, plastic chair and sank his face into his hands. 'Loser. Geek. Nerd.' The thoughts berated through his head as he tried to regain some semblance of sanity. Every. Single. Time. It was more than a phobia or an allergy, it was some social disease. Meet a pretty girl, or even her great caboose, and find new and intriguing ways to make a complete and utter fool of yourself. 'Keep up the good work Brayden.' he spat into his own mind. The thing that truly amazed him, as his mind slowly reformed itself from the splintered fractures into which it had dissolved, was that he couldn't even tell himself what the girl looked like. Blonde hair. Great Caboose. A man who could recite Shakespeare or Keats or Goethe from memory, couldn't recollect what the colour of the pretty lass's eyes in the psychology section. He never knew how long he sat there. Any eternity of self-accusation. Five minutes of work time? At the table, Mr. McKenzie slurped loudly upon his coffee and bit his tongue in concentration as he continued his battle with the crossword. Over in the psychology section, a pretty blonde lass, Melody (although everyone called her Mel) struggled to attain her composure. Poised, confident, self-assured she'd never had an introduction quite like that. From his adorable embarrassment to his surgeon-sharp analyzation of her academic needs to his memorable departure, she just didn't have the slightest idea of how to take him. Was he just a dorky-cute librarian or keen and perceptive chronicler of life? Or both? While Brayden worked through his mis-steps and misconceptions hidden away in the staff room, Mel tucked the encounter away for later and returned to the task at hand. Her gaze took in the 2 rows of books the librarian had pointed out and went about snatching various books and journals that seemed to hold some promise on the topic her term paper examined. With a decent selection of tomes, both modern and aged, she settled herself at a table, her papers and books quickly filling most of the space and immersed herself in her paper. Meanwhile at the crossword table, Mr. McKenzie munched happily upon a chocolate Timbit as his task reached the half-way point. Now, it's very true the Mr. McKenzie could finish the New York Times Crossword in under 10 minutes, but that was when he was a much younger man. When he rushed from task to task. And if he managed to know a few of the keywords. Kinda like Jeopardy! really, if he knew a category, he could run it, otherwise, it was an educated guess. Mr. McKenzie licked his fingers and pondered some more on 9 Down - New Canadian Territory (Caps). Like a turtle checking for danger after a close encounter of a predatory kind, Brayden poked his head from the staff room. A few timid steps led him back the mound of books and the relative safety behind the checkout counter. 'Let it be a slow day,' he prayed. He sipped at his coffee, barely tasting the caffeine as forced his razor-sharp mind to focus on his duties. It wasn't easy. Thoughts of the blonde lass kept invading his thought processes. The curve of her caboose beneath the well-worn denim. The lavender scent of her sunlight-bright blonde locks. Twinkling ice-blue eyes, a mix of glacier floes and far-flung stars. Luckily, despite these distractions, Brayden was an elite librarian, he sifted and sorted and salvaged the books deposited overnight. Deftly weaving care and a critical eye over the books that passed by his gaze. The coffee started to take on the flavour of coffee. Sure, the thoughts and images of the pretty psychology blonde continued to percolate in his subconscious now and then, but the images were fewer are farther between. Although each and every one acted like a lightning rod to his own rod. He ruefully smiled at his own poor play on words. 'Lightning rod to rod. Good thing my name isn't Rod.' "Excuse me," a voice cut through his reminiscences. 'Not Mr. McKenzie,' his mind registered. He made a bit of a show of finishing up with the book in hand. It gave him a few precious moments to gather his wits about him. When he turned to face the pretty blonde at the counter, he stood poised and proper. "How may I be of service, m'lady?" he asked in his professional voice. Psychology blonde giggled. "First off, don't call me, m'lady. Makes me feel old. Mel will do just fine, thank you very much. And I've got to pop out for a bit, is it alright if I leave my stuff on that table over there?" and she waved her hand behind her in a general direction. "Of course. If you like, you can store them behind here." "No, it's cool where they are. Thanks," with that she pulled her jacket on and swept out of the library like the West wind. Brayden immediately sunk into his nearby chair. 'Good Gawd Almighty!' To call that creature Aphrodite was an insult. She epitomized sexuality and sensuality. A great caboose indeed, but an even better package. Flashing blue eyes. Smirking, smiling Cupid's bow lips. Long legs, the type he knew instinctively were toned and fit. And her chest. Those breasts defied gravity. Trapped securely behind a thick, red woolen sweater, but still, nothing short of an underground bunker could hope to hide those impressive creations. Looking back, he never deciphered how he managed to chat with Mel without her hearing his knees knocking together, or how he remained upright for the whole 30 second chat. Secondary Research Brayden found his focus much more elusive for the rest of the day. Every now and then he'd glance at the door, hoping she would be approaching. His sole comfort was the knowledge her books were still in the building. They were. Still, he checked often. Melody needed some fresh air. Simple as that. The whole day dedicated to her paper and she needed an excuse to get out of the library for a while. It was that librarian. He was cute dammit. She liked intellectuals. Men who could appreciate her mind before her body, and she knew she had a killer body. She worked out regularly, not to look good but because she enjoyed being fit, it kept her energy up. She expected him to show some outward sign of, well, something when she's fabricated that excuse to chat with him. But he'd just dealt with her politely and professionally. The way she wished so many other men would, but this one, why didn't he chat her up? She knew he was interested, their initial encounter confirmed that in spades. So, what was it? She found herself in line at Tim Hortons, ordered a blueberry muffin and vanilla latte from a nasty little server named Candice, and sat outside in a cold blustery day to think things through. The fresh air helped clear her head and and latte warmed her bones. So far, the day qualified as a rousing success. Despite his stumblings, the librarian, Mr. Look... no, Brayden, revealed to her a wealth of information that should round out her term paper nicely. She could just take the books home, but she found she worked more diligently if she removed herself from all her creature comforts. She glanced at her simple, yet sophisticated, silver watch and saw it was just past 2pm. A few more hours of hard work, and she might just treat herself to another snack. As distracted as Brayden was that day, he still accomplished more than most people in his position would have managed. In fact, he completed all the required tasks for the day, admittedly he didn't do all the extras he normally did, but only he would ever know how he 'slacked' away the afternoon. At 2:32 PM, Mel returned to the library and her paper. In true Brayden fashion, he knocked a stack of books off the trolley when he went to give her a small wave. His cheeks glowing red once more he bent quickly and took his time recollecting all the dumped books. Inside his head, his brain did backflips of frustration. Melody covered her mouth with a mitten clad hand as Brayden spilled the books. 'Dorky cute,' she confirmed to herself. A smirk still curling at her lips as she sunk back into her studies. "Iqaluit!" shouted Mr. McKenzie a few minutes later. "Bless yout." replied Melody. "Why did you need to know the capital of Inuvik, Mr. McKenzie?" asked Brayden. "Bah! Where were you for the last 45 minutes? Coz then that would have been helpful. That was the final one on the crossword. Took me forever to figure it out. Iqaluit. What sort of name is that?" stated Mr. McKenzie. "Course, I shoulda figured noticed the hint. Ya nearly got me this time, but not quite and not yet!" and he shook his fist at the offending paper. He then proceeded to put on his outerwear and gather up his things. A glance in the Timbits box showed he ate a dozen of the tasty treats. Well, one more couldn't hurt. And as he wrapped his scarf around his neck and exited the building, he gave Brayden an surreptitious wink and muttered under his breath, "I'd take mah teeth out fer summa that." Then he growled out a chuckle and disappeared out into the blustery day. Brayden really didn't know what make of that departing look. In all his days, he could not recall ever seeing such a parting glance. The day continued on, as days do, and soon he found it time to close up the library. A quick tour of his responsibilities showed that just one person's materials had yet to leave for the day. He timidly approached the blonde beauty whom twice he'd played the complete fool for. Sunken in her studies, she never heard him approach as he skimmed through a book looking for an evasive passage that would round off this portion of her paper. He watched her, lost in a book until the scent of her hair slunk into his smell and very nearly overwhelmed his entire being. If he didn't speak now, he doubted he would ever speak again, rooted to this spot, his brain entrapped in her intoxicating fragrance. Not trusting himself to speak, he cleared his throat to garner her attention. "Oh," Mel gasped as her head popped up. "You snuck up on me!" This time, Brayden had prepared himself. "'twas never my intent, m'lady Mel, but time continues to flow along its river, and now, I must, alas, request that you gather your things and check out the books you've decided will aide your paper for Dr. Iser." "It is getting late, isn't it?" "The shorter days don't help either," he supplied. "I won't be long," her sweet voice replied. "No rush, there are still a few more minutes before the door officially close. Just give me a call, as I'll be within hearing distance." he said as he turned to go, "Did you find the passage you were searching for?" "How did...?" Now it was his turn to laugh, a full bodied laugh that nearly echoed off the walls of the library. "The number of papers I've written and seen written, let's just say I can tell the type of studying going on now. You may find what you're looking for if you take a break, sometimes, we can't see what's right in front of us." And with that, he headed off to attend to some duty or other. Melody sat lost in thought for a few moments, thinking hard on 'what was right in front of her.' The results surprised her. Her day-long flirtation with the librarian took a turn at some point and she found that herself deeply attracted to him. Perhaps it was all the things he didn't do that made her desire for him grow from a mere spark to a full-fledged flame. His clothes fell into functional but hopelessly outdated, if ever they were in style. Behind his glasses, she looked at him and smiled as he struggled to find those self-same glasses which perched atop his sandy-blonde hair. He appeared taller than he was too, he couldn't be more than an inch or two taller than her own 5'9 frame, but his slim build made his limbs seem longer. And those long, supple fingers. A shiver shimmered through her body, as she scooped up her notes and tucked them in her backpack. She took most of the books from the day, knowing that somewhere in them hid that quote she hadn't been able to find. He approached the check-out counter from the front doors, which he'd just locked up, as she brought her books to the front. "Nothing to worry about, just afraid of that last minute book rush." he said with a straight face. For a moment, Mel believed him, then she saw a twinkle in his eyes and burst out laughing. Brayden joined in with her. "Care for snack while I check these out?" he offered and slid the box of Timbits across to her. "Yes, but I don't have a sweet tooth. I prefer my snacks... salty." He looked up from where he had just checked the first of her books. He detected a definite... something in that brief pause. 'Wonder what she meant by that?' he asked himself. An impish grin flickered across Mel's face, 'oh this was going to be fun' she thought. The final book scanned through and successfully registered as 'out' on the computer. "Ok, all checked out. Books are due back in two weeks." Brayden said. "Are you sure everything is 'all checked out.'" she asked with a tremor in her voice. "Pardon?" "I said, 'are you sure everything is checked out?' Nothing else you'd like to... look over?" she supplied. He looked up, locking eyes with her. 'There was that pause again,' he thought. She bit the left side of her lower lip slowly, grazing the teeth sensuously over the crimson tinted flesh. Unexpectedly, he felt what had to be a fingertip running along the centre of his shirt. He didn't know whether to yelp in surprise or growl in pleasure. Luckily, he growled. The smile broadened across Mel's face, her ice blue eyes now misted with a red lust to match her painted lips. In a mixture of panic and passion, Brayden grabbed Mel's wool clad shoulders and pulled her half-way across the counter, meeting her halfway he pressed his lips to hers in a first, awkward kiss. If it is possible to smile into a kiss, then that's exactly what Melody did, grinning at his first sudden motion. When the finally broke that first, awkward kiss, Brayden's glasses had fogged over, somehow, Mel's glasses had not suffered the same fate. Brayden held onto Mel's shoulders tightly, afraid if he let this dryad go she would disappear in a puff of ethereal smoke. She pressed a finger to his lips and lulled him into submission with just her eyes. Finally, he let his hands drop from her shoulders to fall to the counter to support his body weight as he leaned forward in hungry anticipation. Melody turned where she was, and hopped up onto the counter and commanded like Cleopatra, "Spin me." And he did. She spun on the counter, pulled across to his side of the desk by his eager hands. Her legs wrapped his waist securely and pulled her to the edge of the counter and brought him to rest between her entrapping legs. The counter might be a bit high for some things, but for now, it was absolutely perfect. Her fingers mussed up his hair, as she smiled into his thoughtful brown eyes. "Breathe," she whispered. "I'm not going anywhere for a while." A deep lungful of air rejuvenated him as he pressed forward to sample her luscious lips once more. Mel was more than happy to accommodate his needs. For a long while they remained locked in each other's embrace, unhurriedly kissing the other's lips. Mel's hips grinding against his waist, sensing the growing urgency of his manhood trapped inside his courderoy trousers. Brayden feasted upon her lips like a lost man in the desert stumbling upon the cool pond in an oasis. Before he felt a thing, his shirt had magically unbuttoned itself and Mel's finger nails grazed over his chest and back, leaving a fiery wake. Her lips soon followed, kissing and licking along his jawline and neck, before slinking back to suck his lower lip into her mouth and use her teeth to excellent effect. Her hands traversed to his back, pulling him closer still as her tapered fingernails dug into his firm flesh. 'He may be skinny, but what is there, is muscle.' she thought to herself, she indulged herself upon the flesh of his throat and neck, when she reached the hollow of his throat she heard him elicit a moan of pure lust. So she nipped at the hollow, drawing another growl. Brayden surprised even himself with his reactions to Mel's erotic oral skills. His hands flew to the front of her jeans, popping open the button with ease, then he gathered her red sweater in his hands, leaned back to watch, and quickly divested her of her bulky overgarment. Underneath she wore a simple, white bra, today had been about comfort and support, not looking sexy when she had no intention of displaying her ample wares. Simple though her bra may be, her breasts demanded attention. The combination of size and perkiness defied at least three laws of physics yet, there they were. Brayden gasped in awe. A smile curled Mel's lips upward. Her fingernails brushed angel-soft against his skin as she found herself running her gaze over his trim build, marveling at the hidden abdominal muscles. She lazily ran a the heel of her foot up the back of his leg, drawing his attention back to her face. "Enjoying the view?" she asked. "About as much as you are." Mel giggled. "Something changed about you," still her foot ran along his leg as her fingers enclosed a nipple and tweaked it softly. "Ever heard the saying it's not the destination but the journey?" Brayden said. "Of course." "Well, I find the journey fraught with peril and pitfalls, if I manage to traverse the rocky terrain and find Shangri-La, then I seem to be more than adequate." "Mmm. I'll say." and she pulled him in for another long, lingering kiss. The passion built slowly like a properly stoked fire, each touch unhurried, each press of lips lasting just the right amount of time. For a while, Brayden played at unhooking her bra, but then reversed course and slid his hands quickly down her spin to caresses her lower back. For Melody's part, her need grew with each passing instant, her fingernails dug deeper, her kisses lasted longer, her embrace held him just a bit tighter. Despite all his apparent suaveness, fear motivated Brayden. It was still possible for him to ruin this, something he definitely did not want to do, so while he wanted to pounce and devour this succulent fawn, he put his immediate goals on pause and took aim a longer range aspirations. A wise decision indeed. At some indefinite point, at some indescribable point, they both willingly threw themselves past the point of no return. Willingly and hungrily. Now Mel craved that salty snack she mentioned earlier. She pushed Brayden back with three fingertips, he did not resist. One hand held him at bay, the other slithered down his chest to grip the front of his navy courderoy trousers. She went to sink to her knees, but he paused her with a singer finger under his chin, she tipped her head upwards, a silent question upon her brow. Now it was his turn to smile, he reached back with his other hand and rolled a mobile chair around for her to sit on, subconsciously she run a palm over her knees. Sinking with inborn grace onto the chair she maneuvered his back against the counter, once more her hand moved to the front of his trousers, this time, her other hand joined in. She rolled in close against him, pressing her lips and flicking her tongue across the expanse of flesh within easy reach of her mouth. Eyes half closed as she lost herself in the taste of his musky, dusty manly flavour, a unique taste to say the least, as ink and vellum seemed to be as much of his make up as anything else. Still, it was a different, utterly enjoyable taste. Mel realized with a shock similar to a bolt of lightning that she needed cock and needed it now. Without further ado, she unzipped and unbuttoned the pants and tugged them, along with his underwear down around his ankles. Melody gasped. Glancing down she saw a penis of average length, but massive girth. "Oh my," she murmured. "Something wrong?" asked a nervous Brayden as he kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his open shirt. "Oh no, everything is very very right. Wow. I can't quite get my fingers around it." "I-is, that a, a bad thing?" Brayden nervously asked as all his fears came rushing back. Melody leaned back and looked up at him and released a peal of pure, lusty laughter. Brayden didn't think she was laughing at him. Her hand had yet to break contact with his fully erect manhood, so that was a good thing too. "Brayden, baby," Mel purred, "this is the finest tool I've seen in a long time. Now shut up and let me suck you." And he did. And she did. She jacked him languidly, her hand exploring his massive girth with reverence. The pads of her fingertips tracing along the purple veins rippling across the surface. Leisurely she lowered her head, first allowing her gaze to run all over the slab of granite manflesh before her, then, when her will to resist ended, she forced her mouth wider than she'd ever done in her life and enveloped his mushroom tip. It was all she could do to force her jaws wide enough to suck his engorged knob into her mouth. For a while, all managed was to lash her tongue all over his tip. Brayden could care less. The Elysian Fields beckoned and he leapt to meet it with open arms. He staggered and would have fallen if not for the counter bracing him. From the second her heavenly lips sealed about him, he knew he was not going to last long. It had been too long since he'd enjoyed a woman's touch. The amount of precum her tongue encountered told her that this librarian had a full creamy load and intended to deliver it into her mouth in mere moments. She took his hand and guided it to her golden locks, letting him pull aside her blonde curtain for an unobstructed view of her oral delights. She knew he wouldn't think to face fuck her. With a low purr, she forced herself to dive deeper upon his thick tool. The vibrations set him off. The sight of her lips wrapped around his cock was one thing, the tactile sensation of her purr along his shaft took him to a whole new world. With a guttural growl he didn't know he possessed, Brayden tightened his grip on her hair as his balls emptied their creamy stream into Mel's stretched mouth. His cum flooded into her mouth, and like a flash flood seemed to go on and on, thick spurt after thick spurt of the salty snack she so craved. Most ended up in her mouth and belly, a bit escaped around his member and dribbled down her chin, dripping onto her massive breasts. She suckled him dry, pumping what she could of his shaft to coax as much cum from him as she could possibly get. Finally, satisfied she'd sucked this load dry, she pulled back and heard his knob pop from her lips. She tilted her head to the side to check on Brayden's state, his eyes closed as a few aftershocks lightly rocked his body. She drew his attention with a vocal slurping of her lips, he watched, enthralled as she opened her mouth and displayed roughly half of his load, swirled it across her lips for his benefit, then swallowed the spunk with a smile. "I-I-I..." he stammered. "Shush. No apologies." He nodded. Not trusting himself to speak he lifted Mel from her chair, pinned her against the counter and attempted to devour her lips with an impassioned kiss, his tongue invaded her mouth, clearly tasting and accepting his own salty taste. Mel purred once more, most men feared cum, even their own, like the plague, and her this reclusive librarian was sampling his own seed. It drove her wilder. Brayden encircled her waist and with minimal effort lifted her up upon the countertop. "My turn." was all he said. He took a moment to kick of his shoes and pull of the bunched remains of his clothing. Naked he sat in the chair Mel recently vacated. His hands moved up her thighs to her jeans, grabbing the tabs of each half of her jeans he tugged on the denim, hearing the happy sound of a zipper slipping downwards. Mel lifted her hips as Brayden reversed his hands to hooks his fingers through the loopholes of her jeans and pull them hurriedly down and off, pausing only briefly to remove her trainers. Even though she intended today to be a study day, force of habit caused Mel to wear matching undergarments. A simple, white cotton pair of bikini underwear to compliment her sensible bra. Brayden moved a bit slower now, enjoying the sight of this gorgeous co-ed in just a bra and panties. His fingers, so used to caring for books and scrolls undid the knots holding her bottoms closed with absolute ease. With her knickers undone, he dragged his fingers to directly below her navel, grabbed the loose cotton and yanked the unnecessary article from her body. Melody moaned. Brayden stared directly at her exposed womanhood. A blonde, trimmed "V" of pubic hair and a glistening vertical smile greeted his gaze. Mel ran her hands down her thighs, then leaned back, slowly spreading her legs for her librarian lover. Later, he would swear her pink slit winked at him. He gripped her under her knees and pulled her buttocks to the edge of the desk. He kissed her soft, fragrant skin, tasting of the last days of summer, unblemished skin with the remnants of a deep, healthy tan. Suddenly, Brayden look knew what that Muses existed. His whole world shifted just that tiny bit to take him from caretaker to creator. Still, he didn't pause in his exploration of these delectable dryad, this naughty nymph. He stood up so he could lick his way higher up her sensuous inner thighs, fingers touching the tops and outside of her legs as his tongue licked upwards at an even pace. Secondary Research Mel's fingers danced through his twine, encouraging him to hurry northwards. His hair felt like fine spun silk under her fingers, but what she really wanted to feel was his tongue upon her sex. Her hands traced along his arms and back to her own softer flesh, rubbing and running them over her torso. She cupped her full tits and squeezed them hard, pinching her nipples and twisting them sharply, loving the feeling that shot through her being. 'Dammit,' she thought, 'the girls need out.' She arched her back as reached behind to unsnap her bra. 'Oh yeah, that's better,' she sighed to herself as the supportive garment came loose in her hands. Down south, Brayden reached a well known junction, and had a decision to make. Lick upwards or skip the obvious choice and kiss way down her other leg before reversing course and arriving back at her sweet slice. Melody removed that choice from him. Her tits now free, she locked a hand on the back of his head and pushed him down into her heated snatch. In an instant, he found his face delightedly trapped against her warm, heady womanflesh. Finally his intellect shut off and responded to his base and primal callings. He did what came naturally and opened his mouth and licked the line of her pretty pink pussy with his thick tongue, not as thick as his monstrous cock, but thick all the same. Melody purred once more, 'And that is so much better again.' Her hand held him there, forcing him to happily coat her candy kitty with his lapping tongue. She hefted a tit to her lips and sucked upon an erect nipple. She could still taste the residue of his cum upon her lips. Brayden pulled back as far as he could to glance up at the wanton wench upon the countertop so clearly in lust with his lower oration. Part of him expected to wake up from this dream, but the feel of the rug under his feet told him this was so very real. He spread her pussy lips and leered at the beautiful, bare pussy before him. His tongue flickered around the edges of her blonde bush, causing her to giggle lightly. Pressing harder with his fingers, he watched captivated as her delicate pink nub sprung from between her upper lips. He had to taste it. Bending down he locked his lips around her clit, forming a tight seal, then he suctioned as hard as he could her candy clit. The effect was instantaneous, Mel's whole body went rigid, her back arched, her hand formed into a fist in his hair and held him securely there as electric blue shocks ripped through her body, sending her over the edge in a long, rolling fully body orgasm. On and on it went. Brayden held on for dear life, his tongue in perpetual motion, lashing and rolling her sensitive collection of nerve endings around and around as he held it snugly between his lips. Eventually, the waves of pleasure seemed to subside. If the session ended at that moment, Mel would have been pleased, Brayden had other thoughts though. As she climaxed, juices escaped her convulsing pussy and coated his chin, now he wanted a sample of that sticky elixir. Releasing her clit with an audible 'pop,' his tongue snaked down the deep "V" of her pussy towards her inviting honey hole. It took Melody less than a second to realize where he was headed, and half that again to sprawl back on the counter top and enjoy his attentions. His tongue dove deep into her inner folds, her thick juices spilling across his tongue and smearing over his lips as he tasted her heavenly nectar. 'Like licking a goddess,' he thought and redoubled his efforts upon her creamy sex. His tongue curled into a U-shape as he wantonly tongue fucked this ethereal creature. Brayden may he exalting Melody to the highest reaches of the heavens, but her cravings were far more primal and basic. A skilled tongue licked and lapped at her seething cauldron. A wide muscle curled and flexed inside her tunnel of liquid lust. Her hands encircled his head and held him there as she rolled her hips, grinding her pussy all over his lips and tongue, sending softer after-orgasms racing through her tingling body. From the tips of her toes to the tips of her hair, she reacted to the talented tongue upon her pussy. Finally, after another strong mini-orgasm she pulled his face from her cunt. "Enough. Any more and I may melt into a puddle of pussy juice," she stated. Her resolve failed her when he stood up and she spied his cock back at full attention. That lust, so recently sated flooded back with a vengeance. "Oh, I want some of that!" and she wrapped her hand around his massive girth and directed it to her pussy hole. She rubbed the swollen purple tip all over her glistening pink folds before aiming the tip at her hole. Brayden held his breath. "Fuck me," was her simple command. He more than happily obliged her. Both hands held her hips as he slowly fed her his thick tool. After his excellent tonguing her pussy opened itself up with relative ease to the invading monster. Melody panted deeply as she felt her pussy being stretched more than it ever had in her life. It felt like she would be ripped open in pure pleasure. If she had to go, she could think of no better way. Brayden bottomed out in her, staring down at his now invisible penis snugly held by her divine pussy lips. For a minute, neither moved as they luxuriated in the sensations. Mel felt her pussy muscles relax to accept this big prick, when comfortable she rippled her muscles along his shaft, grinning at the look that stole across his surprised face. "Do that again." requested the librarian. Happily she honoured his request, her heels dug into the back of his thighs as she pulled him deeper and again stamped her indelible mark upon his sexual memory as her pussy rolled along him like a tidal wave. Her hands dug into his shoulders, pulling him down atop her, reveling in the feel of his body's weight as he began to slowly pump her. A confident, unhurried fuck. Their lips met again, and entwined in each other's embrace. For a long time they remained that way, with his cock slowly pumping in and out of her liquid sex as they savoured each other's lips. They never knew how long they lay there, kissing and caressing one another, while enjoying a slow, deep, soulful fuck. Brayden sent a harder, deeper thrust, bumping against Mel's stretched cervix, in an instant they went from soul sex to a primitive lust. He reared back, staring down at the blonde deity and began to send deeper and deeper, harder and harder charges into her with his fleshy spear. Melody spread herself wide for him and turned into a moaning, groaning mass of sexual energy as he ravaged her. Soon Brayden felt almost like a spectator as his body took over for his mind, his cock splitting and impaling her prefect pussy as her fantastic tits bounced from the collision of flesh on flesh. The sounds and scents of their lust echoed through the library. Brayden felt a build up in his balls and knew that his explosion was forthcoming. He bucked deeply into her, burying himself inside her as he leaned over to whisper to her in a voice chock-a-block with lust, "On your tits. I want to cum on your tits." "Mmmm hmmm," she grinned. He slipped from her pussy and she slipped back into the chair. She opened her mouth wide and quickly bobbed upon his thick dick, loving the taste of her juices and his free-flowing precum. By this point in their session, she felt capable of anything and engulfed his entire manhood, feeling it stretch her jaw muscles. Her tongue lashed the shaft, divesting it of her juices. She pulled back to suck on just his corona while his hand ringed his veined shaft and pumped it furiously. A hand tightening into a fist in her hair told her all she needed to know. She popped the cock from her mouth with a moan and planted it between her big breasts. She enveloped the hard tool with her fleshy mammaries and jerked him with her titflesh. Brayden roared and then came. Oh how he came. Spraying another thick, creamy, heavy, streaming, streaking load of his jism all over her flushed tits and face. As Brayden returned to his body, he glanced down to see Mel sucking the last drops of his spunk from his softening cock. She looked up with a smirk upon her face and a line of his cum staining one of her glasses. He'd never seen anything quite so beautiful, not in any of the books he'd read.