The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Anachronism” is what many people would call me. After all, why would the president of a web design company be at the public library on a cold, rainy November Saturday afternoon? Who still goes to the library when “everything” is available on-line? Well, me, for one.

There are two reasons why I was at the library. First, I like libraries. It’s a remnant from my younger days, when I used to go to the library to read, escape, and marvel at all of the books people had written. The second (and more important) reason, according to the nameplate on the main desk, was named “Tracy Rocke.”

OK, maybe this went back to my younger years, too. I guess I watched too many Adam Ant and Van Halen music videos in my formative years, and I had a strong “naughty librarian” fantasy. Doesn’t every teenage boy harbor a fantasy about a prim, proper lady who turns into a sexual tigress in the bedroom? If not, then I’m sure that a number of men who are almost a decade-and-a-half past their teens do. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

“Prim and proper” was the perfect description for Tracy. I’d seen her on previous visits to the library. She always wore her brown hair up in a bun, pulled back to reveal the alabaster skin of her neck. She wore blouses and skirts. Today’s ensemble was what appeared to be a white silk blouse tucked into a dark, green and blue tartan plaid skirt that fell to just above her knees. The blouse clung and fell loose, alternately emphasizing and obscuring what appeared to be a full bosom.

Not to interrupt the creamy whiteness of her skin, her legs were covered by what appeared to be white nylons, molding perfectly to a shapely pair of calves that extended down to the heels which pushed her height nearly to six feet. And spike heels, mind you, not those nasty “chunky” heels that everyone was wearing. I was convinced that those blocky shoes were a plot to make women’s legs look fat. Tracy was evidently no slave to fashion trends, however, preferring simple, black, two-inch spike heels. Classic red lipstick glistened on her lips, matching the crimson on her nails.

What completed the look, however, was the glasses. Without the glasses she might be a catalog model, but the simple dark frames around her intelligent green eyes turned her into the proper librarian.

The whole effect was very nice, but it was actually the skirt that was the important part for my plans today. I’d been to the library several times before and I often noticed her wearing various items of clothing with the same plaid pattern and colors. To me that indicated that she probably had a Scottish heritage and she was proud of it.

Tracy was standing behind the main desk, talking with the other librarian. I approached the desk, a slip of paper in my hand.

“Excuse me,” I said to Tracy, laying the paper on the large desk, “could you tell me when this book will be returned?” She walked over and picked up the paper with her long, fine fingers. She turned to her computer terminal to enter the catalog number.

“History and Scenery of the Scottish Highlands by Stewart?” she asked, looking up with a smile. I locked my eyes on hers and held the gaze as long as I could. After a few seconds of silence, she looked back at her screen.

“Yes, that’s... what we want,” I replied. She frowned at her computer screen.

“According to the computer, it’s in the library.”

“Hmmm. I checked, but I didn’t find it on the shelves. It’s... down beneath us, right?”

“Yes, that should be where it is.”

“I can’t imagine that it’s so popular that... it’s in and out all the time,“ I said jokingly, “I guess I’ll just have to go down there and look again. At least it’s... warm down there, much better than... all that wetness.“ I gestured toward the rainy sky out the window.

“Um, yes, it is a nasty one out there today,” she said.

“Yes, it surprises me that there aren’t more people in here. I mean, if you were out there, all wet wouldn’t you want to come inside and at least warm up?”

“Yes, I suppose I would,” she said. “But the library isn’t the most popular place these days.”

“I like the library,” I said, starting my connection with her innermost self. “People at the library are seekers. They want information, or enlightenment, or to escape to a special place deep inside themselves. They’re people who want answers. They want to know how to make their lives better. They want happiness. They want better relationships.”

“For example,” I continued, “if I were to ask you what’s important to you in a relationship, what would you say?” I was asking her for personal information, but phrasing it with a level of indirection that would make it seem less intrusive than it actually was.

“I guess I’d be looking for someone I felt a strong connection with, someone who is comfortable with who they are and makes me feel comfortable with who I am. I’d want to be able to communicate openly with him and feel that he was connecting with me.” I listened carefully, noting what emotionally-charged words she used, and which words she emphasized and repeated. Now I had a line directly into her sub-conscious through her trigger words and phrases. And she had just given them to me willingly.

“And that’s what some of the seekers want. They come here to find the best way to improve their lives. Some want to lose themselves in a fantasy. I’m sure that you’ve been listening to someone talk... and you’ve found his voice very warm... and comforting... and as you listen to his voice, it transports you... to a special place deep inside you and instantly you feel a connection with him... and he is communicating with you... and you realize how nice it is spending time with someone who makes you feel so comfortable... and his voice soothes you, but stimulates you at the same time, forming a strong connection and touching a special place deep inside you. And his voice penetrates your thoughts, bringing you a strong hap-penis. And you begin having certain thoughts. And you let the warmth of his soothing voice heat you up as your mind drifts as you wonder what it would be like to be with him, to share your innermost self with him and connect so deeply with him. And you know that this is what you want. And you surrender as your thoughts and fantasies take you away...”

I was repeating her trigger words back to her as I was guiding her mind to a fantasy of her own creation, starring me. Already she was playing a fantasy movie in her head where she was finding everything she wanted in a relationship with me, and the sexual innuendo was probably nudging her thoughts into interesting little scenes. I stayed silent for a few seconds, letting her stew in her fantasy. Her eyes were gazing at some unseen, distant place. Looking behind her, I noticed that the other librarian was lost in a fantasy of her own. She was a much shorter blonde named Nancy, if her nameplate was to believed. She was cute in her red knit top and black skirt and she might be an interesting diversion sometime, but not today. Today I was playing for the naughty librarian from the fantasies of my youth.

“That is what some seekers want, to escape into a fantasy world,” I continued. Behind the glasses, Tracy’s eyes refocused on me. She blushed slightly.

“Me,” I said, “I’m looking for a little of both. I want to learn more about the history of Scotland, and I want to fly away in my mind to the lush green fields, crystal blue lochs, and majestic castles of the Highlands. I’m a seeker, too, and right now it looks like I need to go back downstairs and continue seeking that book.” I laughed.

“Why don’t I come with you, um...”

“Jeff,” I offered.

“...Jeff, and see if we can find the book.” The choice of the word “we” wasn’t lost on me. This wasn’t her doing something for me, this was us doing something together.

“Sure, Tracy,” I made an obvious glance at her nameplate, “that would be great.”

Tracy walked out from behind the desk and we headed toward the stairs, leaving Nancy looking wistfully at us, caught in her own fantasy.

As we reached the stairs, I noticed the damp footprints I’d left on them a few minutes earlier. I certainly wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity like that...

“Be careful,” I said, gently touching Tracy’s left elbow, “it looks like I made it a little wet down there.“ And just like that I’d set an anchor. Now she had a physical act that was associated with a suggestive thought. Sure, it wasn’t a strong anchor yet, but I fully intended on stacking more emotions on that anchor quickly. Once I had that in place, I’d be able to trigger the emotional states I wanted by touching her elbow anchor.

“So do you like your job?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” Tracy replied, “Very much.”

Time for another anchor on the stack. When I asked about relationships, she’d said used emotional words like “strong connection” and “comfortable.” All I had to do was repeat her buzzwords back to her...

“What do you like most about it? What makes you feel the strongest connection to your job?”

She thought for a moment and I waited while the positive feelings took form in her mind. As she began speaking, I gently touched her elbow again, for just a brief moment. The wonderful girl then gave me more than I could have hoped for.

“I guess it’s the books. I’ve always loved (quick elbow touch on that word) books. I like to get comfortable (light elbow touch) and read for hours at a time. Books have always let me escape to wonderful (elbow touch) places and taught me new things.”

We’d reached the bottom of the stairs, with row after row of bookshelves standing in front of us.

“Then I guess all of this,” I slowly waved my left hand in a sweeping gesture across the scene before us and then brought it back to rest my fingertips in the center of my chest, pointing to myself, “must make you feel absolutely wonderful.” I gently touched her elbow again.

Tracy looked at me, smiled, and nodded. Very nice. Not only had I managed to stack more “happy buttons” on her elbow anchor, but I’d also lucked into a situation where I could make an association between something that makes her feel wonderful and me with just a simple gesture of my hand.

As we walked toward the bookshelves, I started an emotional cascade on her.

An emotional cascade is a simple repeating pattern. I guess you could think of it like the plot of a book. It starts with a discovery, then the emotions expand to build toward a peak. But the peak doesn’t lead to a decline and resolution like in most plot lines. Instead, the peak leads to yet another discovery, then that discovery expands and builds to yet another peak, which links to a further discovery, and the cycle repeats over and over, cascading emotions in the person’s mind. First you start on “solid ground” which is familiar to the subject.

“So in books you found an intimate friend that showed you new and wonderful things,” I started. “And as you read more and more, you learned lots of things. And the more you learned, the more you enjoyed the new and wonderful things that books could give you. And you kept reading and learning more and more. And you found (linking to the next discovery) that not only were you learning, but you were also feeling more and more wonderful. Every book brought you more and more enjoyment and escape to fantasy worlds that excite you.”

We walked slowly down the book stacks. Tracy was smiling. She had a beautiful smile. I continued with the cascade.

“And you found that the excitement, the enjoyment, the deep pleasure that you were getting was something that you really loved. And as you read, it filled you more and more. And you liked it so much that you (next discovery) decided to become a librarian.

“As a librarian you’re surrounded by books. Each book is a new adventure, a new experience with more pleasure and excitement for you.”

I smiled as she walked right past the shelf where the book should have been. There was even a small step-stool in front of the shelf, and she just walked right around it, engrossed in the emotions building within her. But I didn’t want to embarrass her.

“And look at all these books,” I said, stopping and pointing to the long rows of books in the aisle. “There’s almost an infinite variety of new discovery, pleasure, and excitement you can have right here.”

Tracy stopped with me, then blinked and noticed that we’d just passed the shelf she was looking for.

“Ah, here we are,” she said, backing up a step to the bookshelf. “Now let’s see if we can find it.”

She started searching at the top of the shelf, stretching upward. Her neck looked absolutely delicious, and her breasts pushed against the shimmering white fabric of her blouse. She scanned back and forth, looking for the book. But it wasn’t a book that would be found on the top shelf. I’d purposely picked a book that would be on the very bottom shelf. (Actually, the book was upstairs on a reshelving cart that was sitting far off in a corner, where I’d hidden it only a few minutes ago.) As Tracy searched, I continued her cascade. She’d already had three solid loops, based on things she knew to be true. Now it was time to start leading her where I wanted her to go.

“Look at all the adventures and excitement we have right here,” I said. “I’m sure you can see yourself as a Scottish lass in the seventeenth century, standing in a field, feeling the warmth of the sun on a clear summer day. And as you feel the warmth of the sun penetrating deep inside you you can smell the flowers of the field scenting the soft, clear air. And you breathe that wonderful, calming air deeply, filling yourself with the warmth and peacefulness...”

Tracy’s searching slowed as she let me guide her mind into the fantasy. Tracy breathed deeply, her searching stopped for the moment, focusing on the fantasy. Slowly she sat on the step-stool to look through the lower shelves. I knelt on one knee beside her, speaking a little slower and a little softer, adapting the fantasy to her movement in the real world.

“And you crouch down to look at the flowers. They’re so beautiful. Such lovely colors and fragrances. And you breathe in the warm, fragrant air again.”

Tracy breathed deeply again.

“And it feels so good to feel that calm, warm peace filling you up. And you see the beautiful flowers and the wonderful beauty fills you with happiness. And you want to just surrender yourself and be filled up completely with the wonderful beauty. So good. It’s more beautiful than you’d ever thought possible. And then you look down the hill, past the cottage and you notice (next discovery) the sun sparkling off the shimmering blue lake. And you know how wonderful that lake feels on your body when you swim in it. It envelops you with a feeling of happiness, washing away any stress. And it feels so good. Everything you want is right here with you. So relaxing. So completely full of hap-penis.”

Tracy’s eyes were closed, visualizing the Scottish fantasy. The next cycle would be the deal closer. It was time for the pulp romance novel talk. If you ever want to know how to push a woman’s emotional buttons, read a couple of pulp romance novels and study how they describe scenes and dialog. Tens of millions of sales of those books are a strong testament to how well the authors know how to connect with the female emotions.

“And as everything feels so right, so wonderful, so perfect, you turn and look up the hill, and there he is. He walks down the hill toward you, carrying himself with strong confidence. You see his soft reddish brown hair, the color of the waning rays of a beautiful sunset. His deep blue eyes meet yours and you feel the strong connection they have with your soul, your femininity, your very deepest being. Such understanding, comforting eyes. They look right into your heart.”

Of course I have reddish brown hair and deep blue eyes. I continued describing myself as her fantasy lover, using her words from earlier.

“He keeps walking toward you. He’s a few inches over six feet tall. He’s coming closer with each step. You remember all the wonderful times you’ve had in his arms. He makes you feel so safe, so comfortable with him, so comfortable with yourself. When you’re with him you feel like you can let go and be yourself. He listens to you and he understands you. You connect with him on the deepest, most intimate levels. And he excites you. He stokes the fires deep within your body. As he gets closer you feel your desire building.”

She was breathing deeper now, eyes still closed.

“He’s everything you want, everything you need. He understands you and you feel so warm and happy when he’s near. And he returns your passion with his own. He opens his heart to you, trusting you as you trust him. He’s getting closer. You feel the fire burning inside you. You desire him. He desires you. You want him. You need him. You feel like your desire will consume you if you can’t have him soon. You must have him. You need to surrender yourself to him and let him take you.”

Her breathing was getting faster and faster. It was time.

“And as your need peaks, he’s right there in front of you. He kneels down next to you, looking deep into your eyes. You feel your deepest selves connecting as you look into his blue eyes, right there in front of you...“

I gently touched the anchor point on her elbow, the point that her mind now associated with feelings of happiness and fulfillment. Tracy’s sparkling green eyes fluttered open behind her glasses and looked directly into my deep blue eyes.

“Oh,” she gasped in a small voice. “Oh!”

I leaned slightly toward her. That was all it took. Tracy leaned forward to close the remaining distance and closed her eyes again as our lips met. We kissed, softly at first, and then with more intensity as the kiss continued.

I broke off the kiss and stood, helping her to her feet with a light grip on the anchor point on her left elbow. She looked up at me, her eyes wide with excitement. I let go of her elbow and slid my hand around to the small of her back, gently pulling her against me. There was nothing gentle about the next kiss. It was passionate and untamed. Our tongues met and Tracy moaned softly into my mouth. My cock was rigid and straining against the front of my pants. I slid my hand down to her firm ass and held her tighter against me so she could feel it pressing between us. She moaned again, louder this time.

We broke the kiss and Tracy was flushed and breathing heavily. I still held her close enough that she could feel my erection pressed between us.

“But...” she fumbled, “you wanted... book... you...”

“Lovely Tracy,” I said as I looked into her eyes, “how can a book matter to me now when I have the most wonderful fantasy any man could want right here in front of me?”

I swear that she swooned! She turned her head to the side and rested it on my chest, sliding her arms around me to hold me close.

“Mmmmmmm,” she moaned as I stroked my fingertips down the side of her soft, delicate neck with a feather-light touch. I peeked at my watch as my hand was slowly stroking back up her neck. It was 4:45. The library would be closing in 15 minutes and Tracy would be free to go. I intended for her to go home with me that night.

“Tracy,” I said. She looked up at me, her eyes still lit with passion. “Do you...”

“Shhhh,” she interrupted. “Come with me.”

She took my hand and led me further down the aisle, to the end of the book stacks. She turned left and headed for the door directly in front of us. When we reached it, Tracy punched a combination into the five buttons on the door lock and opened the door.

We entered what appeared to be a records room of some sort. It was windowless, with filing cabinets along three walls and a two desks in the middle of the room. There was an armless secretary chair at each desk. Tracy didn’t turn on the overhead fluorescent lamps. She stepped to the nearest desk and turned on the small banker’s lamp on it, filling the room with a soft glow through the green glass shade. I let go of the door and it closed and locked behind me.

“Jeff,” she started, “I just want you to know that I don’t... Well... I...”

“Shhhhh, Tracy,” I replied. “It’s OK. I understand. Everything’s OK.” I stepped to her and took her into my arms again. She sighed softly and snuggled against my chest again for a few seconds before she leaned back and looked at me. Her hands went behind her head and she did whatever magic it is that women do and suddenly her hair fell loose and soft down to her upper back.

“So beautiful,” I whispered, stroking her long brown hair. I kissed her again and stroked my palms up her sides as she pressed against me. My cock was still full and hard, pressed between us. The kiss got more and more intense. Tracy started sucking deeply on my tongue, giving me visions of what else she might be sucking on in a few minutes.

“Jeff,” she said breathlessly, “I need you.”

I held her close and still, looking into her eyes. She twitched and wiggled, but slowly she came down from her frenzy just a little. I waited until she calmed a little more and then spoke.

“Tracy... Surrender to me.”

The lust returned to her eyes, but this time it was a submissive desire.

Tracy quickly unbuttoned her silk blouse. She pulled it from her body, revealing a white satin camisole, and dropped the blouse on the desk. As I unbuttoned my shirt, she practically yanked her glasses off, then slipped the camisole off over her head, turning to drop it on the blouse and then carefully place her glassed on top of the pile. She turned back to me wearing the most erotic white bra I’d ever seen. There was nothing plain or ordinary about it, with lace making up the upper part of the demi cups that held her full, creamy breasts up high and proud. I didn’t even realize that I’d stopped unbuttoning my shirt, entranced by the erotic sight that was Tracy. She didn’t notice right away, though, and she reached behind and unzipped the tartan skirt, letting it slip to the floor to reveal...

Be still my heart!

...white lace panties that matched her bra, pulled up over a matching lace garter belt!

Definitely not the utilitarian white panty hose I’d expected. I was stunned. My “naughty librarian” fantasies never came anywhere near the completely erotic vision that stood before me!

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t blink. I’m pretty sure I’d stopped breathing, simply overwhelmed by the sight of Tracy.

That was when she noticed and blushed deeply.

“I... I like to feel sexy,” she whispered in a tiny voice.

Finally my brain reconnected with the rest of my body.

“Beautiful, wonderful Tracy,” I said softly, “you ARE sexy. As sexy as any woman has ever dreamed of being.” She blinked and looked shyly at me for a moment. I shucked my shirt and reached for her. She started to move to me, but I stopped her and lifted her hand above her head. She understood immediately and twirled slowly for me, white lace on black heels.

“Stunning,” I said. It was the first thing that I could think of. “Beautiful, sexy, erotic, stunning!”

I pulled her to me and kissed her again, holding her close. I slowly, lightly dragged a fingernail down her spine and she arched up, pressing herself against me. I was in heaven! Our kiss got more and more passionate, both of us moaning and attacking each other’s mouths.

I don’t know exactly how I ended up naked. I don’t remember taking my pants off, and I don’t remember Tracy doing it, either. Hell, maybe my cock simply ripped them to shreds. It certainly was hard enough! It didn’t matter, I was naked and Tracy was pressed against me.

She stepped away and slipped her thumbs inside the sides of her waistband and started sliding the panties down her sexy legs. I watched closely, spellbound by the erotic sight.

“I like to wear them on the outside,” she said. “It makes it easier to use the restroom.” She blushed again.

After the panties made their way off over her heels, Tracy stood up again, dropping the frilly little panties and her skirt on the desk. The subdued light showed a few dewy drops of moisture glistening on the soft, brown tuft between her legs.

Reaching behind herself, Tracy unhooked the sexy bra and slipped the straps off her shoulders. She placed it on the desk next to her other clothes. Freed from their confines, her breasts were classically beautiful. Creamy white and full, they swelled generously from her chest. Her nipples were dark and erect, begging for attention.

I looked at the desk for a moment, then got a better idea. Holding Tracy’s hands in mine, I backed over to the secretary chair and sat down. Tracy understood immediately. She stepped closer and straddled me, sitting on my knees facing me in her lacy garter belt and stockings. I looked into her eyes.

“Tracy,” I said in a quiet, commanding voice, “do you surrender yourself to me?”

“Yes, Jeff,” she whispered. “Please take me. I need you.”

I reached around and placed my hands under her ass (soft, creamy skin—firm, tight ass) and lifted her slightly, then pulled her to me. Looking deep into her eyes, I slowly lowered her onto my straining cock. She was warm, wet, and very slick as I slid into her. Her eyes widened, but she held them open and locked onto mine until we were completely joined. Then they fluttered closed and she leaned forward against me and moaned softly.

“So deep,” she moaned in almost a whisper. “So good.”

Tracy lifted head off my shoulder and sat up. She placed her hands on my shoulders to steady herself. I slid my palms out from under her ass and up her sides until they were on the outsides of her full breasts. Slowly I brought my hands forward along the sides of her breasts, my thumbs underneath and my fingers stroking across as much of the tops as I could cover.

“Mmmmmm, yessssssss,” she hissed as my hands slid forward and caught her hard nipples between thumb and finger, rolling and squeezing them firmly.

She started pumping her hips in my lap—away from me a bit, then back toward me to bury me deep inside her again.

“That’s it, lovely Tracy,” I said, “back and forth, nice and slow. Surrender yourself to the pleasure, the wonderful, deep pleasure.”

I slid my hands back along the sides of her breasts and started the forward milking motion again. She moaned appreciatively and her slow, undulating thrusting back and forth on my cock started to speed up.

“Shhhhh, Tracy. Slow and easy. No rush. Just feel the deep connection we have. Feel the ecstasy slowly building. Nice and slow, baby. No rush.”

I glanced at the large clock on the wall behind her and noticed that it was 5:00 PM. The library was officially closed for the evening. No matter.

Tracy slid back and forth on my cock. With her sitting astride me and the deep penetration that the position provided, she was rubbing her clit along the top of my rock-hard shaft with every stroke. She’d slowed a bit when I told her to, but now she was starting to speed up as her arousal increased toward orgasm.

“That’s it, Tracy,” I whispered. “Let the ecstasy build. Surrender to the pleasure. It feels so good. So good.”

I wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer. Her soft, hot wetness was milking my cock, urging me to come. She picked was thrusting faster as she climbed toward her orgasm. She groaned again... in stereo!

Something didn’t sound right. I glanced to the left, just moving my eyes, and saw that the door was open a few inches. The lights in the main library through the door were off, but there was enough light for me to see blonde hair, blue eyes, and an open mouth framed in the door. The way the right arm reaching across the red knit top was moving vigorously, I’d say that Nancy was furiously rubbing herself behind the door. No matter.

Tracy dropped her head onto my left shoulder, unable to hold herself up any more. Her hips thrust back and forth in my lap, faster and faster. My scrotum was tightening and I was going to come at any second. I wanted Tracy to come first, while I was still hanging onto some semblance of control. I reached up with right hand to grasp her free breast while my left hand slipped around behind her. On her next forward thrust I pulled wet cunny tight against me, squeezed her nipple with one hand, and buried the middle finger of my other hand two knuckles deep in her ass.

Tracy CAME!

Her head snapped back and her back arched as her long brown hair whipped back over her head. Her mouth was stretched in the elongated “O” of a silent orgasmic scream, her eyes clamped shut. She couldn’t move. She didn’t breathe. Her cunny clamped down hard on my cock as her ass tried to sever my finger. She stayed frozen like that for what seemed like an eternity, then collapsed forward onto my shoulder with a gasping sob. After a few seconds the grip on my cock and finger loosened and she slipped back away from my hips ever so slightly. That was all it took.

I came. Hard.

I slammed Tracy back against me with an animal instinct to pump my come as deeply inside her as possible. I think I growled like an animal, too. She came again, but this time it was more familiar rhythmic milking squeezes around my cock and panting moans in my ear.

After a few seconds her contractions ebbed away and her moans subsided to a quiet whisper. There was a rhythm to the whisper, though, so I listened closely.

“So good, so good,” she whispered her new mantra, “so good...”

I just held her close. After a minute or two I remembered Nancy and peeked at the door. It was closed. I don’t know when she stopped watching. No matter.

Tracy stirred and lifted herself up to look at me with her lovely green eyes.

“That was... I... You...” She was at a loss for words. Finally she cast her eyes downward and whispered, “Your finger is in my ass.” She blushed furiously.

Was this going to be awkward?

“No,” I thought to myself. “We communicate. We’re connected. We’re good here.”

I slowly, gently slid my finger out of Tracy’s bottom. As it came free, she whimpered and looked a little sad with the loss.

“I... Um... Nobody ever... That was...”

I waited for her to collect her thoughts. Again she blushed and shyly looked down from my gaze.

“I liked that,” she said in a quiet whisper. “A lot.”

“You have a very nice ass, Tracy,” I told her. The blush spread from her cheeks down her neck and across her upper chest.

How can a beautiful woman who is dressed like every guy’s wet dream, straddling me with my cock buried deep inside her and a gigantic load of my come even deeper inside her be embarrassed about anything I say, especially after I’ve just had my finger deep in her sweet little ass? I guess that’s one of those things I may never figure out.

“I’ve never come like that,” she said, her eyes slowly rising up to mine. “It was intense. It was more than intense. It was... I don’t know. Words don’t really do it justice. It was life changing, I guess.

“Nobody’s ever even touched me... back there. I never knew how HOT it was! It was so good! I loved surrendering.”

Tracy only blushed a little, but the fire of lust was back in her eyes.

“Tracy, darling Tracy,” I said. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

She burst out laughing. I laughed too. The situation was absurd, given the position we were in.

She smiled as we stopped laughing. We were comfortable. We were connected We were good.

“Yes, Jeff,” she said, “I’d love to have dinner with you, as soon as we can figure out how to disconnect ourselves and get cleaned up.”

“Thank you,” I said. “But do we really have to disconnect? I like being connected with you, Tracy.”

She smiled with a distant look in her eyes for a moment and then focused back on my eyes.

“After dinner,” my naughty librarian asked with the lust fires growing in her eyes, “can we go to your place and see if I can surrender my ass cherry to you? I’d really like to do that.”

How could I refuse an offer like that?