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  • The Librarian and the Nose-Ring Girl

The Librarian and the Nose-Ring Girl

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It was getting near the 5 pm closing time at the public library in the sleepy little suburb where I worked. Not much happens at this branch on a Wednesday - no noisy story times for moms and toddlers, no early evening rush by readers looking for paperbacks to consume over the weekend. We catch up on re-shelving books, tracking down online requests, vacuuming cookie crumbs around the tables in the kids section, all the mundane tasks that take up much of a librarian's time. It's not quite the adventure-filled life of excitement you see in the movies. Yes, that's a joke... sigh.

Things here at Big Creek Library do get busier closer to the weekend, but never on a Wednesday. I made a mental memo to remember why I went into this occupation, and why I'm still working here at the age of 41, the only male on staff among half a dozen women, none of whom take me very seriously. Oh, right... the county actually pays me to be here, and that includes medical benefits.

Suddenly, my bored reverie was interrupted. For the fifth or maybe sixth time over the past two months (I was losing count!), the unusual-looking young woman with the nose ring and the weird skull and parrot tattoo on her upper left arm was making her way to the checkout counter. Somehow, I hadn't seen her come in, but there she was with an armload of books, staring down at the grungy carpeting as she walked.

I moved fast, before Claudia could beat me to the counter. Ha! My skinny little nemesis was stuck helping some geezer learn to use the search engine on one of our aging computers. Nose-ring girl was mine! Now if I could just figure out why she pulled me in like a giant magnet... Could it have something to do with that second tattoo, the tiger lily which sometimes peeked out when she wore a t-shirt that rode a bit high, exposing her midriff? I'll admit it, I was intensely curious to see that entire flower, and any other body ink she might be hiding.

"Hi, there, can I help you check those out?"

Nose-ring girl looked startled, her cheeks turning pink as she realized I was speaking to her. It made quite the fetching contrast against her straight, jet black hair.

"Oh... ok, I guess so. I was going to just use the self-checkout this time, but the sign says the machine's out of order." With that, she set the books down and fished a library card out of a hand-embroidered leather wallet, handing it over with a nervous smile.

I'd put through her books before, and even chatted a few times about her unusual selections. Most borrowers stick pretty much to one or two genres - romances, or detective novels, maybe self-help books. Nose-ring girl had no discernible pattern. She borrowed books of poetry, medical texts, obscure novels about Icelandic fisherfolk, biographies of Civil War generals, steam-punk sci-fi, cookbooks. I was eager to see what she had today, but trying to look cool about it. Don't invade the privacy of the patrons, that's in the librarian code, after all. And usually, I upheld the code.

Hmmm. Nose-ring girl seemed nervous as I scanned her books through in my brisk, efficient manner. A new historical romance on life in the court of Tutankhamun, a do-it-yourself book on repairing small engines, a dictionary of medical technology, another steam-punk novel (pattern confirmed!), the latest Noam Chomsky essays...

Wait a sec, look at this. My heart skipped a beat as I scanned in The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty by A.N. Roquelaure (better known to the world as Anne Rice), The Naughty Girls Book Club, by Sophie Hart, and oh my... How to be Kinky: A Beginners Guide to BDSM. I barely noticed one or two more titles, and now my cheeks felt warm.

"There you are, due back in three weeks," I said with my best librarian smile, carefully pushing over the stack of reading. And then, taking a deep breath, I just kept right on talking. "But you'll probably be back sooner, I guess. You seem to go through books pretty quickly."

"Um, yeah, I read a lot these days," she said, clumsily trying to stuff the books into a plastic bag way too small for the job.

"Here, we have some bigger bags under the counter," I offered, pulling out a handful for her to consider. I was actually enjoying this, I realized. For the first time since Alice left, I was just having some fun talking to a woman. Shoving that misery back down into the hole in my gut, I watched Nose-ring girl fumble through bags. Finally she picked out one that seemed sturdy enough to hold ten books without disintegrating.

"Thanks, I didn't think I was going to borrow this many," she managed to say, finally looking up at me with mascara-lined blue eyes. My heart flipped. Stop it, I thought. She's young enough to be your daughter, you fucking idiot.

"Happens all the time," I burbled jauntily. "People come in for the latest Stephen King, and leave with five or six more. It's all good for us, keeps our lending numbers up. We should be thanking you, not the other way around."

"Yeah, I suppose," she said, actually smiling for the first time since she started coming here. "And libraries are a good thing, right?"

"Keeps me from starving," I said, flailing around for a way to keep the conversation rolling. "Let me hold that open for you."

Now Nose-ring girl had to fill the bag as I watched, including her little collection of naughty books. She seemed to gulp a bit as "How to be Kinky" joined the rest of her borrowing. But then she recovered her poise.

"Always looking for something new and interesting," she said, looking directly at me again. Did I see a "don't you dare judge me" look in those blue eyes?

"And now maybe you've found it," I quipped. "Enjoy your reading... um..."

"Sal," she said.

"Nice to meet you, Sal. I'm Terrence."

"Terrence. OK, thanks again. I'll probably have these back next week."

And with that, she headed for the exit, casually swinging the plastic bag. I was rewarded with the sight of her broad backside, nicely filling out a tight pair of black jeans. She glanced back quickly through the glass doors, and then she was gone.

"Hey, shove your eyeballs back in, pops. Time to lock up."

It was Claudia, the smart-mouthed young transfer from the main downtown branch, who seemed to delight in needling me. Now it was my turn to flush, realising that Claudia had finished with the old guy in time to listen in to our conversation from just a few feet away. She was grinning at me like the cat with the canary.

"I do have to agree, that gal is easy on the eyes," she continued with a smirk.

It was no secret that Claudia lived with her girlfriend Sandy, who often arrived in an old pick-up truck to take her home. When none of the other staff were in earshot, she sometimes shared her running commentaries on attractive patrons, especially soccer moms who obviously needed a woman in their lives... or their beds, to be more specific.

"Yeah, she seems nice," I finally said. "But I'm not really into dating again yet. And anyhow, she's way too young for me."

Somehow, Claudia knew all about my marital woes, even though Alice and I had broken up months before she came to work at this branch. Claudia had a way of digging private information out of people before they knew what was happening. I'd spilled my guts to her in the lunchroom on the anniversary of my break-up, when she noticed that my wedding ring was suddenly gone - but not yet the mark on my finger.

"Hey, Terrence, I'm just sayin', that girl is seriously fucking cute. And she actually smiles at you, who the fuck knows why. Maybe she thinks you're Lance Armstrong. Haven't you noticed that she waits until you're on the desk before she checks out?"

This observation left me dumbfounded. Really?

"Time you got back on your horse or your bike or whatever, dude. Start playing the field again. Now let's shut 'er down. Sandy's going to be here any minute, and I'm not wasting any more time in this dump."

"Oh my god, the mouth on you! Are you sure you're really a librarian?"

I didn't know what else to say, so joking around was my only tactic. Sure as hell I wasn't going to tell Claudia what kind of titles Sal was checking out - books that made my blood pound just to look at the covers.

We both knew the routine inside out, shutting off the lights, setting the alarms. Two minutes later we were out the door. Heading over to the bike rack with my helmet. I saw Claudia run across the parking lot, into the strong arms of Sandy, looking great as always in her checkered shirt and cowboy boots. Watching the two women swap tongues, I reflected that Claudia could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but I'd love to see her naked in bed, sucking on Sandy's big titties. (Was that so wrong of me?)

Apparently my crushed libido was finally making a comeback. This precise moment marked the first time since the break-up that my cock had twitched at the sight of some girl on girl action. In fact, I was suddenly downright hard, despite this visual reminder that Alice had left me for a woman. Not the first woman she had slept with during our marriage, but the one who finally stole her heart.

Yes, it was a classic scenario, nice guy cucked by lesbian wife, who hadn't really seemed like all that much of a lesbian during our twelve years together. (I can hear you thinking: what a fool!) Our deal was simple: she was free to mess around with a girlfriend from time to time, and occasionally we would drive to the nearest big city for a Saturday night fetish club party. Alice would dress up in her leather corset, one of her latex shelf bras (hey, look it up on your own time), shiny black underpants and mesh stockings, and we'd wander around watching naked people get flogged or feathered or tied up in various states of arousal. Then back to our hotel, where I would spank her naughty bum, or ask her to spank me. Or both, followed by a few hours of fun with nipple clamps, ropes, cuffs, and butt plugs. Sometimes she pegged my ass for a special treat. You fill in the blanks.

Win-win, right? Yes, I thought so.

At least until the Saturday I came home from work a few hours early, after a training seminar on book repairs was cancelled. Imagine my puzzlement to hear the sounds of an orgy coming from the living room, and to find leopard-print panties in the hallway - bigger than Alice's size. OK, so I did pick them up, and the scent was very enticing. But they didn't smell like Alice!

Peering around a corner, I saw one of our favourite lezzie S&M films on the big screen TV, loud enough to drown out the noise of my footsteps on the carpet. And then I saw the entrancing sight of a blonde woman's plump pink bottom in the middle of the room, pointed in my general direction. Gazing up at Blondie's cheeks, my wife was enthusiastically licking pussy, with her own long, tanned legs spread wide to allow the rubanesque woman to return the favour. Yes, I will agree that this arrangement did allow me an unobstructed view of Blondie's love hole, and her little rosebud, just slightly darker than her wide bum cheeks. It was a gorgeous sight, and I did take a moment to deposit that view in my spank bank. And to complete this full disclosure, my hand involuntarily did move towards my biking shorts, to release a raging erection which I began to stroke. Part of my mind was screaming that this was all rather disturbing, but hey, it was more interesting than Saturday afternoon at the library! The passionate moans and squeals were growing louder, and it looked as though Blondie was close to orgasm, if her wet pussy was any indication. That would probably put me over the edge too, and I began pumping my hard cock to keep up.

But then suddenly both women were jumping up in shock to cover their lady bits, and I realized this was not an invitation to join the fun and games. It was more like the signal that Alice's lady bits were no longer mine to ogle or fondle or spank. Or fuck, damn it.

Now maybe I could have handled all this and negotiated a new deal, if the third party hadn't been involved. But apparently Blondie ticked more of the boxes (so to speak) on Alice's list of qualities for a great sex partner. And so, twenty-four hours later, after much unsuccessful pleading, and many tearful apologies, I was helping to drive Alice's possessions in a U-haul over to you-know-who's place. This time Blondie was fully dressed, more's the pity. When somebody sticks a dagger in your heart, you deserve a better peek at her gorgeous big titties, and those nipples like little red currants. (Hey, that's just my opinion, and I'm sticking to it.)

After that, I gave Alice a year to change her mind. I was too broken up to move on, so why not? But anytime I saw the new couple around town, they looked annoyingly happy, walking hand in hand around the organic market or smooching at the July 4th fireworks. Every single time, it hurt. I finally gave up and dropped my wedding ring down a sewer grate. It wasn't so expensive anyway.

But right now, that memory didn't hurt the way it did a year ago, or even yesterday. I drove home feeling quite different for a change, just thinking about tattooed Sal blushing as I checked out her BDSM books, and then shyly telling me her name. Which of course, I had already seen the first time I scanned her card, but a librarian never tells, right?

That night, I lay in bed recalling the encounter in detail, my cock stiffening as I imagined Sal reading the scandalous story of Beauty enslaved, forced to undergo endless humiliations - and countless orgasms - at the hands of her captors. Did Sal fantasize about being tied up and spanked like Beauty? Or about doing this to somebody else? Did I have the nerve to try and find out?

At last I jerked off for a few minutes, climaxing in a hot frenzy to thoughts of an erotic rendezvous with my new acquaintance. Unless Claudia was just yanking my chain - not impossible! - this might actually be doable. Before drifting off to sleep, I promised myself to at least give it a try.

By pure coincidence, opportunity knocked just two days later, on Friday morning when I realized I needed a real coffee before going on shift. Tired of the regular Starbucks, I rode a block further past the library, checking out changes in the suburban strip mall landscape. Across the street I spied something called the Human Bean, which had to be either a restaurant for cannibals or a trendy coffee shop. More likely the latter. I decided to take a chance and locked my bike to a stop sign.

Peering around the deserted, dark wood interior (whose idea of retail decor was that?), I saw a counter, but nobody at the till. And then a dark head of hair and a familiar nose ring popped up from behind a display case of over-priced pastries.

"Sal!" I called out. Once again, she looked startled, trying to match my familiar face with a different setting.

"Terrence," I reminded her. "So you work here?"

"Hey, Terrence, from the library... yeah, I do. Just a couple shifts a week right now, but I'm hoping for more. What can I get you?"

That was clearly a good sign, I thought. She remembers where I work! Sal looked as shy as ever when I stepped up, blushing like before, and glancing down at her hands.

"Strong coffee," I said, "maybe a 12 ounce with an extra shot of espresso. And how are the muffins here?"

"Home-made by the owner. The blueberry ones just came out of the oven."

"I'll take one of those too, then," I said, getting out some change.

"OK, is that for here or to go?" she asked.

My natural cowardly inclination was to pay up and flee before something stupid popped out of my mouth. Instead, I told her I'd have it here, since the library didn't open for another half hour.

Still seeming a bit fidgety, Sal got my order together, and then dealt with two or three more customers while I sipped my coffee and pretended to gaze out the window. Out of the corner of my eye, I could watch her working, sometimes glancing over in my direction. Maybe Claudia was right?

A few minutes later, the place was quiet again, just as I got ready to leave. I screwed up my courage to stop at the counter, wondering what the hell to say this time.

"So, how are those books coming along?" Oh god, how lame was that? But she didn't seem to hold it against me.

"Great, I'm really liking that romance about ancient Egypt," she said. "Very well written for that kind of genre. And the Anne Rice book, wow, that's totally different." She kind of bit her lower lip, and shot me a guarded look. I could almost hear her wonder: what's he going to say to that?

I took a deep breath.

"I read that series a few years ago," I said, trying to sound casual. "Pretty intense stuff. But really fun, I thought."

Her eyes opened wide, and a little grin came to her lips. "Yeah, I thought so too. If you like that kind of thing, I mean, not everyone does."

I didn't trust myself to push it any further. Now I was the one starting to blush again, and damned if she didn't see that.

"Mmmm, well... You'll have to tell me more next time you drop into the library." That was the best I could manage, but it seemed not too bad for a guy who hadn't dated anyone new in about fifteen years. And who was suddenly chatting about "that kind of thing", with an attractive girl who looked half my age.

Hoping the ice was truly broken, I said goodbye and rode off, whistling a cheerful tune. A familiar pick-up truck pulled away, and I got to the doors at the same time as Claudia.

"You look awfully freakin' happy for this time of day," she said suspiciously. "What's up? You been smoking weed this early in the morning?"

"No, no, it's nothing, just glad to be here."

"At work? On a Friday? Now I know something's going on." She frowned, and suddenly burst out. "Oh my god, it's that Sal, isn't it?"

What voodoo power did this woman have? I started trying to deny everything, but she just laughed.

"You old dog, you, chasing that poor girl. Let me know when you catch her, maybe I can have a turn too."

Red-faced, I held the door for Claudia, knowing that we had to drop our banter before starting this shift. Head branch librarian Sarah Brooks was in charge today and Saturday, and that meant no goofing around, no risque remarks, professional conduct only for the next two days. Well, as I said, it's a living, but I hoped Sal's next visit to the branch was on one of the quiet days when Mrs. Brooks wasn't scheduled.

Only it didn't happen. The days went by with no sign of Sal, and by the following Friday, my curiosity was killing me. Okay, okay, it wasn't just curiosity. More along the lines of lust. By that point I hadn't seen Sal for a week, which wasn't quite fair somehow. Even worse, I hadn't been to a fetish night for close to a year and a half, the last time Alice and I had taken in a kinky evening. At this rate, I was going to hit retirement before anything fun ever happened again, and I was starting to get a little cranky.

So I decided to take a chance and drop into the Human Bean on my way to work. The odds were good that Alice would have another Friday morning shift, and anyway, I could use a real cup of coffee for a change.

Sure enough, the Bean was nearly deserted again, and the decor was still dark and slightly forbidding. Even better, Nose-ring girl was there, giving me a bright smile when I walked in the door.

"Hi stranger, got any coffee there?" I asked. I was doing my best imitation of a nonchalant stroll up to the counter, ignoring the shakiness in my knees. I tried to forget that dinosaurs still roamed the earth the last time I asked a woman for a date.

"Hey, Terrence, how's things at the library this week," she replied, getting ready to make me another 12-ouncer.

"Well, you know, you borrowed all the interesting books, so it's a bit slow right now."

That brought a flush to her cheeks, but Sal had loosened up just a bit since we first met, and she proved it by showing a sense of humour.

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