As it was, it just sounded like a big sniffle.
She made a grab for her panties with the hand that was under the table but was too late. She felt her legs pulled together as her panties slid down her thighs and over her knees, then down to her feet, which were lifted, first one then the other…and then her panties were gone.
Oh god, she was sitting in the school library with no panties on, and a boy sitting right there looking at her. If they were discovered...if her parents...if the whole school...
She didn’t dare move or make the slightest sound, even, especially, when she felt her thighs being gently separated again, felt him edging close again, felt him...ohhhhh, god...nuzzling the mound of curly hair there, smelling it, burying his nose in it, kissing all around it.
And then at last his tongue: just the tip of it, slowly feeling its way along the lips there. Up...then down...up...then down.
Jane felt herself opening there like a flower, his tongue seeking nectar and then finding her.
Her whole being concentrated into a pinpoint of fire that grew hotter, and hotter...and still hotter...and then suddenly flared and burst, completely consuming her.
When she again became aware of her surroundings and opened her eyes, she was astonished that apparently so little time had passed. She had half-expected to find herself alone, school over, the room deserted and dark. But no, as near as she could tell these were the same people who had been here the last time she looked.
And none of them were staring at her. So she hadn’t screamed, as she’d thought.
She became aware of herself—still slumped in her chair, her legs wide apart—and quickly sat up, pulling her skirt down over her knees.
And froze. Oh god, he was down there! And he’d...and she’d let... Oh god, right here in the library!
Again, the now familiar feeling of deep humiliation.
Along with it, however, was an awareness of her body: drained, exhausted even, but filled with a kind of humming sensation, as if her body was a tuning fork that someone had struck. It felt wonderful. She wanted to just sit with her eyes closed and bathe in it. And he had done this—this was her ‘reward’.
A voice then, in her head. It was hers: Yes, I’m your little slut.
Her eyes flew open, and she looked at the wall-clock. It was almost time for her next class—her last of the day, thank god. The bell was going to ring any second and she had to go; he had to let her go. She couldn’t bear the thought of letting him see her face so soon after she’d… Her hand, pulling up her skirt...her hips sliding forward...Yes, I’m your little... Oh god, but she had to!
She glanced quickly around, then, steeling herself, leaned over and looked under the table, bracing herself for the sight of his face, the knowing look in his blue, blue eyes.
On the floor, next to her feet: A shoe. A crumpled white knee-sock.
He was gone.
And he’d taken her panties with him.
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