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Those distant voices snapped me out of the haze, my body still humming from Folie's touch. Her finger slid out of me slowly, leaving me aching and empty, my panties soaked against my skin.
I pressed my forehead to her shoulder, breathing hard, the scent of her arousal mixing with the musty books around us. God, I wanted her—wanted to feel that thick bulge inside me, stretching me wide—but something held me back, a flicker of honesty amid the lust.
'Wait,' I whispered, my voice shaky as I pulled away just enough to meet her eyes. They were dark with desire, pupils blown wide, but I had to say it before we crossed that line.
'Folie, before we go any further... I have a fiancé. His name's Alex. But he's... he's extremely open to this kind of thing. We've talked about it—about me exploring, about bringing that energy back to us. It doesn't change what we have; it just... adds to it.'
Her hand stilled on my breast, thumb pausing its teasing circle over my nipple. She frowned, that dominant smirk fading into something more guarded, her brow furrowing as she processed my words. The air between us shifted, the electric tension cooling just a fraction. She stepped back slightly, her cock still hard and pressing against her slacks, but her body language screamed hesitation.
'A fiancé?' she echoed, her voice low, laced with a mix of surprise and reluctance. She glanced away, toward the shadowed end of the aisle, as if weighing the unconventional arrangement. I could see the intrigue flickering in her eyes—the curiosity about sharing this spark with someone else—but it warred with something deeper, maybe a reluctance to complicate the raw pull between us.
I bit my lip, my heart pounding not just from arousal but from the vulnerability of laying it bare. The library's quiet pressed in, amplifying my nerves, but I pushed on, my voice trembling with the depth of my need.
'I know it sounds crazy, but I crave you, Folie. I need to fuck you—for inspiration. My writing's been stuck, and this... you... it's like the story I've been chasing. The passion, the tension—it's all here, in how you make me feel. Please, let me have this. Let me feel you deep inside me, claiming me like in my daydreams.'
My words hung heavy, my body leaning toward her instinctively, pussy clenching at the thought of her cock filling me, the emotional rush of connecting so intimately blending with the physical ache.
Folie searched my face, her frown softening as she exhaled slowly. She didn't love the idea—I could tell from the way her jaw tightened, the brief shadow of doubt in her expression. But then her gaze warmed, that teasing edge creeping back as she reached out, cupping my cheek with a gentleness that surprised me.
'You're something else, Britany,' she murmured, her thumb brushing my lower lip. 'I don't usually get tangled in setups like this, but... damn, I like you. That fire in your eyes, the way you touch me—it's got me hooked.' Reluctantly, she nodded, her dominant smirk returning, though softer now, laced with a newfound tenderness.
She pulled me close again, her arms wrapping around my waist, her hard cock nestling against my belly through our clothes. The contact sent fresh sparks through me, my nipples hardening further against her chest, emotions swirling—relief, excitement, the intimate thrill of her acceptance.
Our lips met in a slower kiss this time, not just hunger but a shared understanding, her tongue exploring mine with deliberate strokes that mirrored the vulnerability we'd just navigated. I melted into her, my hands sliding up her back, feeling the strong muscles tense under my fingers.
The kiss deepened, her hands roaming down to squeeze my ass, pulling me tighter against her erection. I could feel every inch of it, thick and insistent, promising the stretch I'd fantasized about since the café. A soft moan escaped me into her mouth, the sound muffled but real, my body alive with the mix of emotional connection and building lust.
Finally, she broke the kiss, her breath ragged against my skin. 'Come on,' she whispered, her voice husky with restrained need. 'We can't do this here—not fully. But I want you, Britany. All of you.' She took my hand, interlacing our fingers, and we slipped out of the secluded aisle, the cool air of the main hall brushing my flushed skin like a secret.
Her other hand trailed down my side, fingers dipping briefly under my skirt to graze my thigh, sending shivers up my spine. I mirrored her, my palm pressing against her bulge as we walked, feeling it throb under my touch, the public risk heightening every sensation—the distant footsteps of patrons, the rustle of pages, all fading against the pulse of our shared anticipation.
We moved toward the library's side exit, her confident stride guiding me, hands roaming freely now—hers cupping my breast through my sweater for a stolen squeeze, mine tracing the outline of her cock, teasing the button of her slacks.
The tension built with each step, my mind racing with visions of her pinning me down somewhere private, thrusting deep while I whispered inspirations born from this fire. My pussy ached, wet and ready, emotions tangled with the raw physical pull. Whatever came next—her dominance, our bodies colliding—it felt like the start of a chapter neither of us could predict, but one we both craved to write together.