Getting Shushed at the New York Public Library (an almost true story)

He emails me: I feel like I should take you to the NYPL. I mean, sexy small-town librarian comes to the big city... It has to be done.

Me: Dude, I'm not a tourist. You don't have to trot me around to see the sights. -- Besides, living in the suburbs an hour outside the city doesn't exactly qualify as "small-town."

Him: Still. Come on. Don't you want to? The one with the lions.

Me: If it'll make you happy. :)

In the empty elevator he shoves me against the wall, rubs my clit through my skirt roughly, talks dirty in my ear. He knows how much I like his hands on me in public. I gasp, sigh, melt into him and almost come before the doors slide open.

In a stately marble hallway I stand with my back against a pillar and quickly hike up my skirt, pull down my panties, to flash him. I can see the sudden desire in his eyes.

And in the Rose Reading Room, amid all of that quiet studiousness, he bends me over one of the massive oak tables, lifts my skirt and thrusts his fingers into me, hard and fast just the way I like it, until all of my stifled moans can't be held in anymore and I cry out, coming and coming again, my voice echoing against the high ceiling, heads turning our way in disapproval.

Outside, he shoots me a sidelong glance. “Happy?” he asks.

I smile.

[written for Alison Tyler's "sexy" contest]