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Tales from between the stacks May 18, 2011

Posted by Leah in Blogroll, Retrospective.
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It was my freshman year in college. Though the study area of the library stayed open all night, the main stacks closed at 10 pm. It was a Thursday, the beginning of the weekend parties. Jack and I went into a less traveled section of the stacks around 9:30. I had removed my panties beforehand in the toilet. I remember the loose fitting brown corduroy skirt I wore. He unfastened his belt, then lowered his shorts and boxers. The cock sprang free. He placed a condom over it. His hand followed my thigh into the skirt. He discovered the river delta at the top of my legs. I propped one foot atop the next shelf to show and spread myself. He fucked me against the books, spine up against spine. The stacks rocked behind me as Jack thrust his penis into my heat.

The chance of being found out, of someone walking by in search of an obscure text on Mayan poetry, of librarians stumbling upon us, of a referral to the university administration, or worse to the police, of the simple and unfortunate possibility of coitus interruptus: these all heightened my senses and the responses in my pussy. I moaned and heard the echoes. The sounds of fucking, the liquid slide of cock in cunt, the clap of our bodies, the balls rebounding off my thighs, the noises of sex, the grunts and guttural exhortations: these filled me with fear. The scents of arousal accompanied the fusty smell of old books. My arms wrapped Jack’s back. I felt his heart beating madly against mine. I don’t imagine that we were at it for more than ten minutes before he spurted. He pulled off the condom and hurriedly covered up. I hadn’t come from intercourse. He went to his knees and licked me out. At some point during cunnilingus, the speakers above announced the imminent closure of the stacks, the need to check out all material at the circulation desk several floors below, the warning to vacate the area within minutes. Hastened by necessity, I came in his face with my skirt draped over his head.

I was a library vixen once.

On other occasions during my education, I have fucked in the toilet and in the study rooms of the library. Once I gave an under the table blowjob in the special collection. But the stacks were the first and the best.

Library Vixen in capital letters and bold font requires no long introduction. She is among the signal lights of contemporary erotica. I adore her prose and find much to learn from it in improving the quality of my own writing.

Let me use an example to illustrate what I like.

Library Vixen employs second person and makes it work. You are a part of the story, the subject of her considerable talents.

She writes: But I opt for a slow fill, allowing [my] pussy to spread and take you in, like she too, is trying to put to memory every inch and girth of your cock. Looking at you as [you] fill me, I feel my eyes begin to slit, and my head fall to the pleasure your cock is giving me. I always want to start slow and do, but then something happens to me and I am fucking you, trying to get you inside of me as deep as I can. Wanting your cock to fill me so much it hurts, I want to feel it.

She ensures that the reader has a complete knowledge of what she experiences and how. There is also the well observed detail: how the eyes begin to slit. As is a recurring theme in her writing, Library Vixen accords special importance to the act of memory, how she recalls every inch and girth — which, incidentally, I consider a remarkable juxtaposition of nouns. She chooses her phrases well.

It is an art to tell so much with so few words. In this case the dialogue and the tags suffice.

“Bone me daddy.” yeah I say daddy…

“[You’re] gonna make me cum, if you keep doing that.”

“Do you want to cum daddy?”

Yes. He does.

There are also the evocative images she marries to her words. Despite minor technical imperfections, each post appears as a small masterpiece.

I am deeply and resolutely smitten.

Comments»

1. Library Vixen - May 18, 2011

Leah, you naughty college girl you. I know that smell so well– the book the fucking it fills the air and our memories. Thanks for the wonderful wonderful comments and critique. much love. Vix

2. tazsis1 - May 20, 2011

Dear Leah,

I’m one of those people who hasn’t had sex in a library – though I have spent hours in them dreaming and fantasising when i should have been studying. (As ever, your scene from the library was very sexy. And yes, Library Vixen is a great writer and picture blogger.) But for me libraries are still hugely sexy places because of the shelves were stacked with the beautiful and heated words of Lawrence and Nabakov and Nin and Bataille and Miller and de Sade and Mishima and Reage and Sacher-Masoch and Trocchi and Moravia and on and on.

Leah - May 20, 2011

Finding the sexy in a library can be a greater pleasure than finding sex there. Words are written for the ages and will endure long after the memories of old lovers have been obscured by time.

3. elsiewrites - May 21, 2011

I love Library Vixen. She is a very talented writer and photographer, and I am a huge fan. She is both sexy and literate, a rare combination indeed!

4. Littérature quand tu nous prends « Plaisirs coquins - May 21, 2011

[…] nous raconte dans ce plus récent billet ses aventures sexuelles dans une bibliothèque […]

5. Q - May 24, 2011

i come to your blog to read about you having sex now. where is it??? go on. lay london. then tell us about it.

Leah - May 24, 2011

While I appreciate the zeal with which people want to read about my adventures, these comments vex me. I need to first have sex before I write about having sex. Last week, Amadeo was out of the country and missed our date. After that, I had my ersatz period. Work is keeping me busy. I was in Cardiff for a meeting this past weekend. Though I am promiscuous, it can’t be a surprise that sex doesn’t happen all the time. I will post when I have something to say.


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