Harriet's heels clicked against the polished floor as she walked between the rows of bookshelves, her hips swaying naturally with each stride. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating her silky raven hair and the graceful lines of her body beneath her fitted blouse and midi skirt. The supple curve of her waist flared into round, lush hips, her skirt hugging every delectable inch.

Oblivious to the appreciative glances directed her way, Harriet continued to navigate the aisles, her natural allure drawing the attention of both men and women as she went about her work with a smile.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Bancroft?" a patron called out.

Harriet turned her attention to the older man before her, peering at him over the rim of her reading glasses. Mr. Wright, a frequent visitor to the library, always made her a little uncomfortable by the way he gazed at her. Evelyn, her coworker, claimed he'd been coming here for years and had a reputation as a sly fox and occasional bum pincher. Putting on a smile, she asked, "Yes? How may I help you, Mr. Wright?"

"Um, well, my dear, I'm looking for a book on human anatomy," he said with a hint of mischief, as his eyes flicked toward her chest. His gaze lingered there, almost magnetized, before he cleared his throat, adding, "Something that dives deep into the, ahem, the body’s more intimate places and elusive secrets? Do you have anything with illustrations that goes... that in-depth, Mrs. Bancroft?"

"Of course," she replied in a businesslike manner. She led him to the appropriate section, aware of his look lingering on the sway of her hips as they walked, although making sure to keep her backside well out of his reach.

Upon arriving at their destination, Harriet plucked a thick tome from the shelf with practiced ease, presenting it to the old man. "Anatomy of the Human Body, by Henry Gray. This should cover everything you need to know.”

"Thank you, Mrs. Bancroft," the old man sighed, looking a little disappointed by her choice.

As he accepted the book, his fingers lightly grazed hers, causing an unexpected jolt of electricity to pass between them. She retracted her hand, the brief contact leaving a strange, but not unpleasant, warmth on her skin. Where had that come from, she wondered.

"Enjoy your studies," she said, as she turned away from him and resumed her duties.

While Harriet sat at her desk, she couldn't help but think about how Mr. Wright reminded her so much of her husband, Dr. Charles Bancroft—at least physically.

She had met Dr. Bancroft during one of his lectures on Modernist War Poetry. Charles had been a brilliant academic, tall and lean, with greying hair and glasses that made him look distinguished. She was drawn to him immediately. But behind closed doors, he proved to be a cold and distant man, unable to sustain the physical passion and intimacy the significantly younger Harriet craved.

Mr. Wright, on the other hand, didn't fit the scholarly mold despite his choice of literature. He had a sleazy quality, and his regular crude advances should have repelled Harriet. Yet, she secretly looked forward to his futile attempts. They stirred something in her, even if it was little more than a cheap thrill.

"Is everything all right, dear?" Evelyn asked, noticing the faraway look in Harriet's eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine," Harriet replied, forcing a smile. "Just lost in thought."

"Ah, well, we all have our little daydreams, don't we?" Evelyn said with a knowing wink.

"Indeed," Harriet agreed.

As she sat there, she couldn't shake off the odd reaction Mr. Wright's attention had sparked in her. For a delicious moment, she allowed herself to wonder what might have happened if she’d responded to Mr. Wright’s flirting. What if she asked him to assist her in the book storeroom to hold a ladder while she climbed up to access the taller racks? On the higher rungs, he’d have a great view up her skirt and…

She inwardly chastised herself for even going there. She was married, for God's sake, to a man she respected, even if he was more like a distant housemate than a passionate lover. But she had to admit, Mr. Wright had made her curious. Of course, acting on this was out of the question, but as she got back to her usual tasks, she felt a weird mix of emotions she couldn't put a name to. Was it regret? No, it was more like she'd let sneak into the light, a part of herself she kept under very tight wraps.

Of late, Harriet found it increasingly difficult to ignore a gnawing dissatisfaction with her situation. While the library provided a sanctuary for her love of literature, it also served as a constant reminder of the passion and intimacy missing from her life. The worn pages that filled the shelves whispered to her of worlds where desire was unbridled, and lovers were blissfully consumed by carnal hunger.

She often got lost in daydreams of literary characters sweeping her off her feet, whisking her into a world where sensuality reigned supreme. A bittersweet escape from her mundane and routine existence. She would imagine Heathcliff, brooding and intense, taking her passionately on the wind-swept moors. His rough hands roamed her body, igniting a fire within her that had long been left unattended. In another moment, she could picture Mr. Darcy, his stiff exterior melting away as he declared his love and desire for her while his lips pressed against her neck, pulling her closer, making her breathless with anticipation.

Yet, as time passed, Harriet found the classics less satisfying. Her yearning for something more explicit led her to more contemporary erotic fiction. These stories, unapologetically sensual, moved beyond the emotional into the explicitly physical. The characters were daring, and the scenarios were intimate and sometimes outright taboo. As she lost herself in tales of voyeurism, group sex, and other scandalous acts, Harriet began to question the limitations she had placed on her own desires, wondering what it would be like to cast aside society's expectations and embrace her deepest, most forbidden fantasies.

As she devoured these stories, mostly discovered in out-of-the-way places on the internet, her heart raced and arousal spread through the whole of her body, while a blend of guilt and exhilaration filled her, each sordid tale unveiling desires she had yet to properly understand. These guilty pleasures remained hidden away, a filthy little secret and a counterpoint to her mundane reality. Still, increasingly, they were never far from her thoughts.

Is this what I've been missing? The notion caused her cheeks to flush with the intrusive memory of the lingering touch of Mr. Wright. Has it come to this? Am I really entertaining the idea of an illicit tryst in the library’s storeroom with a dirty old man who happens to look a little like my husband?

********

Later, Harriet found herself working late due to the weekly book club meeting. Vivienne Hartley, the organizer, sauntered in. In her mid-twenties, she was a vision of youth and beauty: her blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders, and her green eyes sparkled with intelligence. Harriet had an undeniable admiration for this young woman, who led her club in a cozy, secluded corner of the library.

"Good evening, Mrs. Bancroft," Vivienne purred as she passed on her way.

A shiver ran down her spine as the warmth of Vivienne's voice enveloped her. It had a deep, sultry quality, her faint Scottish accent giving it an exotic allure that resonated within Harriet's very core.

A couple of hours later, and just before the library was due to close, Harriet got up from her desk and walked towards the gathering, intent on delivering a gentle reminder they only had another fifteen minutes. From experience, she knew that if she left it to them, they'd happily stay much later.

As Harriet approached, staying out of sight, she stopped to listen to Vivienne’s mesmerizing voice.

"Let's turn to page 132, of Decadent Shadows, shall we?"

She could hear the club members enthusiastically leafing through their books.

Harriet was shocked at the choice. While she hadn’t read it herself, she was aware that Decadent Shadows by the notorious author, Dana Synergetic, was a controversial erotic novel, infamous for its depiction of a variety of sexual acts in the most graphic and explicit manner, many of them taboo. A stunning choice given that with the exception of Vivienne, the rest of the book club were older women, and Harriet assumed their literary tastes would be quite conservative.

As Vivienne began to read, Harriet listened intently. The words were pornographic, brimming with raw passion and sensuality.

She found herself lingering at the edge of the group, both captivated and embarrassed by her own reaction to Vivienne's reading. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to focus on anything other than the obscene images the words were creating in her mind.

"Carlo pinned Bethany to the wall, the heat of his body seeping through her," Vivienne read, her voice like velvet, making every word a caress. “His mouth crashed hungrily onto hers, as if he were starving for more, and forced her lips apart allowing him access to the depths of her soul. His tongue explored her mouth with an urgency that left her quivering as his hands roamed over her body."

Peeking through a gap between two books, Harriet observed the club members while staying hidden. The group was completely absorbed in Vivienne's narration, their faces showing fascination and arousal. Flushed cheeks, parted lips, and quickened breaths revealed the story's effect on their bodies. Harriet realized she wasn't alone in her reaction to the explicit tale.

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she fought to stay upright, her legs threatening to give way beneath her. She clenched her thighs together, trying to ignore the insistent throb of her arousal. Her teeth sank into her lower lip, stifling a gasp that threatened to escape as the story's explicit details played out in her mind.

Vivienne’s voice had become a syrupy whisper, as she continued reading, painting a series of intense and vivid images in Harriet’s mind. “Carlo cupped Bethany’s left breast in his hand, squeezing it before trapping the bud of her nipple with his teeth, as his tongue delicately played around its edges. His free hand descended down her stomach towards her already dampening vulva. He ripped away the G-string and traced one finger along the curve of her slit, tantalizingly skirting, but never touching, the throbbing clitoris that begged for his attention.”

As the young woman reached the final words of the passage, she let out a breathy sigh that echoed through the room and left everyone spellbound. There was a moment of silence before the book club members erupted into applause.

"Are you going to be much longer, Viv?" It was Alexander Hartley who spoke. Vivienne's younger brother. He wasn’t part of the book club but dropped into the library occasionally to cadge a lift from his sister. He walked with a swagger that irked Harriet. Tall, and muscular, from his regular workouts in a nearby gym, with short dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Her lips tightened at the young man’s interruption, his casual rudeness disintegrating the hyper-sensual ambiance Vivienne’s reading had created.

His inherent air of confidence often struck Harriet as somewhat intimidating. Thankfully, he'd approached the group from a different direction to Harriet’s, so he hadn't witnessed her spying on the book club.

To Alexander Hartley, the library was a dull and dusty place he wouldn’t be caught dead in if it weren’t for his lack of transport. As he sauntered in, each step exuding self-assurance, he felt eyes on him the moment he entered the corner where the book club met. His workout earlier had left his muscles sore but well-defined, and he liked people to take notice of his body.

Glancing over, he saw the middle-aged librarian, stepping out from the shadows.

"Time's up," she announced, a discernible flush to her face.

His impatience got the better of him. "Come on, Viv," he whined. His eyes lingered on the librarian, drinking in her curvy figure. She might be ancient, like in her forties, but It didn’t escape his attention that she’d a fine rack underneath that ruffled blouse of hers.

"Time's up," Harriet managed to say. She cleared her throat and repeated herself, louder this time. "The library’s about to close. Time to wrap up."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bancroft," Vivienne said smoothly, closing the book with a soft thud. “I completely lost track of time.” The rest of the group mumbled their thanks as they gathered their belongings and filed out of the library.

"Perhaps," Vivienne continued, her eyes never leaving Harriet's, "you'd like to join us next time. I think you might find it... enlightening."

Harriet was wary of the invitation. Vivienne had never asked before. Her face reddened at the possibility the young woman had seen her in the shadows, while she eavesdropped on the reading.

"No, that's not possible,” Harriet replied, a little more curtly than intended. “I have to remain close to my desk for as long as the premises are open."

"Ah, that’s a shame", said Vivienne. "Such a pity. Given your occupation, I’m sure you’re familiar with the various works we choose to read. I'd love to have you share your thoughts and feelings with the rest of the group.”

"Come on, Viv," said Alexander, his impatience palpable. He wore a tank top a few sizes too small, designed to accentuate the highly defined muscles in his chest, shoulders, and arms. His tattoos, lurid and hard to ignore, added another layer to his peacock display."

Harriet bit back a sharp, instinctive retort to his rude interruption.

“Until next week then,” smiled Vivienne sweetly, as she ran to catch up with her brother.

********

The next day, Harriet discreetly took a copy of Decadent Shadows from its shelf to read during her breaks, and while it afforded her some of the sensations she experienced, they amounted to little more than a pale and distant reflection of the reaction she'd had as she listened to the same words being spoken by Vivienne.

********

On the evening of the next meeting of the book club, Harriet experienced a flutter of anticipation. She decided on a white blouse that flattered her figure, and a burgundy skirt that complemented her form. As she examined her likeness, a flicker of uncertainty crossed her mind. Had she paused for a moment to ask herself why she had dressed so provocatively, she would have struggled to answer the question. Was it for her own self-esteem, or was there a budding curiosity, a whisper of something more, directed towards Vivienne?

After they had all gathered, it took a supreme effort to wait long enough until she was sure the book club was well underway and there would be no stragglers. When she couldn’t hold out any longer, she gingerly approached the obscure corner of the library where the group had gathered.

From her secret hiding spot, Harriet could peer at the book club without being seen. The women sat in a semi-circle entranced; their eyes fixed on Vivienne as they eagerly awaited her next words. The atmosphere was heavy with expectation as each person, knowing they were about to delve into forbidden pleasures, was guided by the young woman’s hypnotic narration.

Harriet's own heightened state of arousal caused her breath to come in shallow gasps as she struggled to remain quiet, her hands gripping the edge of the bookshelf.

As Vivienne began to read, Harriet's body responded to the familiar cadence of her voice. She listened attentively as another explicit scene unfolded before her, her mind painting vivid pictures of the carnal acts being described.

Sensations washed over Harriet that were undeniable, urging her to surrender to the pleasure coursing through her nervous system. Heat flushed her cheeks, and her skin tingled with arousal. Her increased blood flow made her areolas swell, and her nipples hardened beneath the thin fabric of her blouse, aching for attention.

As Vivienne's narration continued, Harriet's imagination carried her away on a wave of desire. Though she knew she should resist, the temptation to indulge in these forbidden feelings became overwhelming. Harriet's logical mind fought against her body's urges, but the battle was already lost – she had been ensnared by Vivienne's voice and the power it held over her.

With a trembling hand, Harriet reached beneath her blouse and tentatively grazed the sensitive skin of her bare breast. The sensation was electrifying. Unable to stop herself, she rolled her hardened nipple between her thumb and forefinger, firing out little jolts of pleasure.

The explicit language of the novel only fueled her desire, as Vivienne's voice reached out and seemed to caress Harriet's most intimate places. Emboldened by the erotic narration and the carnal energy in the room, Harriet began to circle her fingers around her nipple, teasing herself with light, tantalizing touches that sent shivers down her spine.

As Vivienne described a particularly charged encounter between two fictional characters, Harriet couldn't help but imagine being in their place, lost in the throes of sensual excitement.

Her other hand slid up her thigh, inching closer and closer to her black lace panties. As she listened, her arousal heightened. The explicit content of the novel and Vivienne's hypnotic voice acted as a catalyst, unlocking a world of passion and desire more intense than Harriet had ever imagined.

Her hand brushed against her underwear; finding the fabric soaked with her need. The gentle contact sent a shockwave of pleasure through her, and she let out a soft moan, her body trembling in anticipation. The risk she was taking only added to the thrill of the moment, as she realized she’d rendered herself powerless to stop.

As Vivienne's voice continued to weave its seductive spell, Harriet delved deeper into her desires, her fingers exploring the slick folds of her hot, moist cunt. The world around her dissolved into nothingness, leaving only the sound of Vivienne and the ever-present thrum of arousal that coursed through her clitoris.

As Harriet's pleasure began to spiral toward its peak, a sudden creaking noise from the floorboards nearby, jolted her back to reality. She looked around the darkened corner of the library but, luckily, no one was there. Just an antiquated building prone to generating odd noises in the quietness of the evening as its old wooden floors settled.

The stillness made her conscious of how hard her heart pounded, then she became drawn once again to the siren of Vivienne's sultry voice. The enchantress read from a tattered copy of an erotic novel, her Scottish accent adding an extra layer of sensuality to each word. Harriet's body still hummed with arousal, a deep ache blossoming between her thighs.

Vivienne’s voice continued to generate obscene images in her mind. "Using her free left hand, Emily moved towards his lap and undid the top button of his trousers before pulling the zipper down. She then put her hand into his underwear to grasp his hot, hard member—much larger than she had initially expected from their earlier contact. Her fingers weren't long enough to wrap around it fully, so she placed her hand below the head and started to pump it up and down."

Harriet allowed herself to be consumed by the sensations pulsating through her body. Her fingers danced along the buttons of her blouse, unfastening them one by one until her ample breasts spilled free, the cool air caressing her hardened nipples. A bold move, but the risk only served to heighten her arousal.

Vivienne whispered, "Emily climaxed. She turned her head towards the window to unleash a deep, contented sigh, as waves of pleasure overwhelmed her from the inside out. Its epicenter was her womanhood, radiating outward and lighting up her nerve endings along the way."

As Harriet's hand crept beneath the hem of her skirt, her fingers seeking out the throbbing center of her pleasure, she became aware of a presence behind her. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as a cold shiver of fear raced down her spine.

"Go on, you dirty fucking slut." A strong hand clasped onto her mouth to prevent her from crying out.

It was Alexander, Vivienne’s younger brother. It must have been him who made the noise she had heard earlier. Just how long had he been hiding in the shadows spying on her? How much had he seen?

When Alexander Hartley entered the library sometime earlier, its quiet, sterile atmosphere hit him instantly, a far cry from the noise of loud music, running machines, and crashing dumbbells of the gym.

The familiar drone of Vivienne's voice reached him. She always fancied herself as some sort of actress when she read, but to Alexander, it was just more of her theatrics. He never got the appeal of it all – the books, the club, the incessant reading. To him, it was all a colossal waste of time. Who in their right mind hangs out at a library for fun?

But then, as he moved along a row of bookshelves, a figure in the shadows caught his attention. The librarian was standing there, with her back to him, slightly hunched over and utterly engrossed in the nonsense Vivienne was reciting. The sight almost made him snort in derision. Eavesdropping on the book club, whatever for?

Just then, it seemed as if the librarian might have heard him because she cocked her head as if listening keenly for something other than the narration. Out of instinct rather than any rational thought, Alexander ducked behind a bookshelf.

Having waited for a moment, if only to allow his breathing to ease, he looked around the corner and found the librarian had resumed her position. It was then he realised, the woman wasn’t just eavesdropping, she was… doing something… Something strange…

He became more aware of the awkwardness of her stance. The librarian had bent forward, her legs widely parted. He shook his head to clear the insane thought that entered his mind. It must be the dim lighting playing tricks. However, as he moved a little closer and strained his eyes to make out what was going on, instead of dismissing the crazy notion, what he saw more clearly made it unmistakable. Harriet, the forty-something woman with the big tits that vaguely reminded him of some forgotten schoolteacher… was frigging herself!

Yes, rubbing her pussy in the library! She’d her hand down the front of her panties and was finger-fucking her cunt. Not only that, as his eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, he saw that the dirty slut had her big tits out and used her other hand to work on one of her nipples.

Alexander stopped in his tracks. His initial intention was to quietly retrace his steps and approach the gathering of the book club from a different direction, but his attention was drawn to his tracksuit pants and the enormous erection growing down there.

A frenetic thumping overtook his senses, drowning out the words being spoken by his sister. It felt as if he were caught in a tug-of-war between fight and flight, his nerves buzzing with an electric charge that zipped down his spine and coiled in his stomach.

Jesus! This was so fucking hot! He had a private view of this older woman, working her cunt and tits so assiduously. Alexander stuck his hand down his pants and began massaging his dick.                                                                           

A waft of her perfume found its way to him—a blend of jasmine with a hint of something earthy. By now, he was tugging on his rock-hard erection vigorously.

And yet, it might have ended there. If the woman had finished what she was doing, or he’d reached the inevitable point of ejaculation, then Alexander would have simply slid back between the labyrinth of bookshelves unseen. Instead, Vivienne continued reading out loud, and the librarian frigged herself with even greater abandon.

She must be fucking gagging for it, he thought. Instead of her fingers, she must be dying to have a real cock plowing into that hot snatch of hers. Under normal circumstances, and beyond an appreciation for her big chest, he wouldn’t have looked at the woman twice. She was probably old enough to be his mother. But these weren’t normal circumstances, were they?

He thought about his girlfriend, Penny. Always holding out the carrot of sex, but then withdrawing it, saying things like: “I want it to be right, not just for the sake of it, or because it feels like we're supposed to do it. I need to be sure that I'm ready, mentally and emotionally.”

It was Penny’s fault he was so fucking horny all the time, and only heavy gym sessions kept his mind off sex. When you thought about it, it was because of her that he was spying on this woman he hardly knew and tossing himself off like some fucking pervert.

Well, he couldn't see Harriet the librarian denying him. No way, not now! That dirty bitch was gagging for a real man to fuck her! And, at that moment, Alexander decided, he was the man to do it.

Harriet’s first instinct was to pull away from Alexander and retreat to the safety of her desk, but she was paralyzed by shock. His fingers clamped across her mouth, holding her head firmly in place while he pulled her towards him, so she was trapped between his toned, muscular body and the bookcase.

With his other hand, he reached forward and grasped one of her exposed breasts before seizing the nipple and squeezing it. The sensation was so intense and immediate, her already hardened nub reacted even more to his cruel touch. Harriet tried to twist and turn to free herself, but his grip was inescapable.

"Now, now," he said, but the anxious tension in his voice made it sound far from calming. “Hold still. We don’t want those women in the reading club to find us like this, do we?" As he spoke, she could feel the heat of Alexander's body through the thin fabric of her clothing, as he began to grind his already hard cock against the valley of her buttocks, his organ becoming even more pronounced, more invasive.

Harriet thought, how dare he! He was barely in his twenties; just where did he get the arrogance to treat her like this and to say those things? But she also knew that was the rational side of her brain talking. The irrational part, her bodily senses, were reacting very differently. Her breast and nipple were responding to his rough treatment, and she could feel a heavy and tingly sensation in her nether regions. Her pussy was so wet, her arousal was dripping through her panties.

"Frigging yourself off while listening to my sister’s sexy stories,” he whispered accusingly in her ear. “Oh, if Vivienne and the others only knew what a dirty, horny bitch you really are."

Letting go of her tit, Alexander slid his hand up Harriet's thigh, beneath her skirt, his fingertips electrifying the sensitive flesh.

No! No! This was going too far, the boy had to be stopped before he discovered how wet she was, made worse now by his groping and grinding. She made a determined effort but struggled in vain to break free from his grip; he was just too strong.

"Jesus! Your panties are fucking soaking," Alexander breathed in her ear.

"No, don't..." Harriet began to protest, but her words were muffled by Alexander's hand, which tightened around her mouth.

Her captor slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, past the hair above her cunt, and inside her hot slick folds, eliciting a moan of pleasure that Harriet had to bite her lip to suppress.

"You love it, don't you?" he growled, his breath hot against her ear. "You dirty fucking slut. You’re gagging for it."

Harriet's body continued to betray her as Alexander's fingers found her swollen clitoris. There was no finesse or care taken in his rubbing and squeezing of the sensitive organ, but that didn't seem to matter much.

As her body reacted, seemingly of its own accord, her legs widened, her knees weakened, all while she arched her back, pressing herself against his body, encouraging him in her desperation for more.

"You like that, don't you?" he taunted. "You like having my fingers inside your wet pussy while my sister reads one of those dirty books to the rest of those horny old women."

Harriet's cheeks flushed at the thought of being caught by Vivienne and the rest of the book club, yet it didn't quite feel like shame. The pleasure radiated through her body with an intensity that could not be ignored. Alexander slid his fingers deeper inside her, making a sloppy wet sound, as it explored the tight walls of her cunt, while his thumb fumbled around the area of her clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout her core.

Her body responded to Alexander’s touch, her arousal building to a fever pitch. She had never felt this way before, swept up in the moment, desperate for pleasure, and so helpless to resist. She found herself rocking her hips in time with his movements, urging him to grind harder, while his fingers probed her cunt faster and deeper. As she experienced the growing sensations of something no man, certainly not her husband, Charles, had ever achieved with her before, coursing through her body, Harriet realized she was only moments away from having an orgasm.

But then Alexander abruptly pulled his fingers from her cunt. She let out a little gasp... of protest! She was so close, too close to be denied by the young thug.

A derisive laugh escaped Alexander. He released her mouth only to grab her hair, twisting it in his hand and tugging back. His other arm coiled around her waist, holding her close. He propelled her backward, away from the reading club and into one of the darker recesses of the library, where he pushed her up against a bookcase.

Without hesitation or feeling any need to seek her consent, he yanked up her skirt and pulled off her damp lace panties. Her body was too stiff for escape and making a fuss would be too loud for the book club to ignore. Yet, beneath all this rationalization, the truth was that she yearned for him to continue. Wasn't this what happened during Heathcliff's aggression towards Cathy, or Mr. Darcy's dominance over Elizabeth? Back then, authors had to be careful not to be explicit; a discerning reader was left to read between the lines.

"Don't," she murmured weakly, needing to at least appear to put up some resistance.

Alexander did not respond. She sensed him reach for the loose waistband of his tracksuit bottoms and pull them down. Soon she felt the hard muscle of his erect cock against her naked buttocks. It was hot and sticky, and the youth smelled of sweat.

"No," she said, but with even less conviction in her voice than before. She had a mounting sense of anticipation. She so wanted to be fucked, which was just as well because it was evident nothing was going to stop him.

Alexander grabbed her roughly by the hips and pulled her back towards his toned pelvis. His cock aimed at her gaping pussy,

"Oh God," she moaned, as Alexander pressed the head of his erection against the slick wet folds of her vulva.

To Alexander, the spectacle of the older woman bending at the waist, her red skirt up around her hips, and presenting her surprisingly round and firm arse before him was fucking awesome! Then, without even needing to ask, she opened her legs as if to invite his entry. He leaned forward and stroked her thighs, then trailed his fingers down to the delicate wetness between her legs. She moaned softly, and he couldn't help but smile. This was going to be even better than he had imagined.

He so badly wanted to shove his raging cock deep inside her. Impale her on his manhood, as if somehow it was righteous retribution for his girlfriend’s selfish, cock teasing ways. A familiar sensation bubbled up inside of him, a mixture of pleasure and a wild, animalistic hunger.

When he caught a glimpse of the glinting gold band on her ring finger, his pulse quickened with a primal thrill. The knowledge she was someone’s wife made his desire to fuck her all the more intense, all the more intoxicating.

With a grunt, Alexander thrust his hips forward and pushed his cock deep into the mature librarian’s slick and open cunt. She gave out a long, muffled groan. It could have been in response to pain or pleasure, but the truth was he didn’t really care.

He began to plunge his rod into her, the whole of his body tense with pleasure as she writhed while bent before him, responding to every thrust, his pelvis slapping off the rounded flesh of her buttocks.

His hands instinctively tightened their grip on her hips, as he began to drive himself into her with all of his energy, pushing deeper and harder than ever before. The long hours of intense training and punishing body conditioning were finally paying off. He was a wild animal, his primal instincts taking over as he pummelled her body.

Although still obviously trying to remain silent, her groans were becoming inevitably louder now, and he could hear how her breathing labored. Without missing a beat or slowing down his thrusts, he reached around and squeezed her wonderfully big, firm breasts.

Harriet’s body shook as Alexander continued fucking her with ferocious speed and urgency, exhibiting all the impetuousness of the young and inexperienced. His cock slid in and out of her pussy, and she could feel his forceful shaft smashing against her G-spot, sending waves of pleasure through her body.

"God, that cunt of yours is so fucking wet, I can hear it," Alexander groaned. "You're fucking loving this, aren't you? You stuck up fucking bitch."

Harriet couldn't deny it. The thrill of being caught and taken in such a public space, the unmitigated danger of it all, combined to make her cunt even hotter, as it stretched to accommodate his girth. She loved the sensation of Alexander's thick manhood, pulsing with youth and vigor, as it slid in and out of her, slick with her natural juices.

Powered by those muscles he was so fond of showing off, Alexander fucked her like a relentless machine. The sound of their flesh smacking together seemed to echo from the walls, and the bookshelf was vibrating to their motions, but any concern she had of them being discovered was dismissed as his pelvis forcefully slapped against her buttocks.

“Oh my God!” Harriett moaned. She was going to come. Alexander was about to give her an orgasm that was more intense than she had ever experienced before. The climax started at the base of her spine and spread like wildfire through every nerve and muscle in her body. Her legs shuddered, and her back arched towards him. Every little hair on her skin prickled, tingling as if a thousand miniature mouths brushed up against her.

She blurted out, “Oh, my God! I’m going to …”

Her climax reached critical mass and exploded within her. Alexander clamped his hand over her mouth to muffle her scream, her body trembling, as she came hard.

As it washed over her, rhythmic contractions began in her pussy, each wave more potent than the one before. The library blurred, what sounds there were became distant echoes, and every coherent thought was overshadowed by the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through her. She was being swept away, carried by a current of pure ecstasy. The release, both physical and emotional, left her breathless, her body quivering in its aftermath.

Alexander, unaware and uncaring, continued to fuck her relentlessly, but now his thrusts had become more erratic, urgent, and desperate. Then with a deep grunt, he slammed into her one last time, as his strong muscular body tensed, and, in a series of vigorous rhythmic pulses, he pumped hot liquid deep inside her.

They both stayed there, panting, for a long moment. Neither willing nor able to face the other.

Harriet's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings. She couldn't believe what had just happened. She had been violated and taken against her will by a youth she didn't like or respect. And yet, she’d found it incredibly arousing and deeply satisfying. She had never experienced such a powerful orgasm before.

Eventually, Alexander pulled his softening cock from her cunt. A trickle of his cum dripped down her inner thigh. She adjusted her skirt and turned to face him. They stood looking at each other for the first time. Harriet became conscious her panties were still down around her ankles, so she bent down hurriedly and pulled them up, before attending to her open blouse and exposed breasts.

"Jesus! That was some fuck," Alexander said, his smirk conveying the self-satisfied pride of a victor.

"Don’t say it like that," Harriet countered more out of reflex than anything else.

"Come off it,” he retorted with a playful raise of his eyebrows, glancing at her name badge, “Lighten up, Mrs. Bancroft. Surely this isn’t the first time you've been… you know… Fucked up against one of these bookshelves!”

Harriet found herself lost for words.

Still in a daze as she stumbled back to her desk, Harriet couldn't believe she had allowed herself to be violated by Vivienne's uncouth younger brother. It was as if she had been under some kind of spell. But even as she thought this, she knew it wasn't entirely true. Violated? Really? Maybe ravished was a more suitable word, a literary word. She’d been ravished, and what’s more, she’d enjoyed the experience. It had been thrilling and intense and left her feeling more alive than she had in years.