[Originally written 7/27/2007]

“You need special permission to view this material,” the young librarian stated, looking at the list of books on the counter.

 “I’m sorry?” Joseph asked, looking up at the librarian.

 She removed her pink glasses and let them dangle in front of her chest. She was wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with a sleeveless, red v-neck sweater. Her shirt collar was partially open, and the pearl studded eye-glass chain stood out dramatically against the sweater. She leaned over looking into Joseph’s blue eyes, and repeated the words, “You need special permission to view this material,” accenting the words with exagerrated pauses between each word.

 Joseph returned the Librarian’s gaze and leaned forward slightly. “What kind of special permission?” he whispered, winking, exagerrating the spaces between his words to match hers.

 The librarian stood up straight, moving quickly enough to cause her breasts to bounce slightly when she stopped, which jostled her glasses to one side. Her cheeks developed a slight, rosy tint. She looked around to make sure that no one else would hear their conversation. She raised a hand to place her glasses back on her face and lightly stroked her red hair. She looked back at Joseph and whispered, “How old are you?”

 “Old enough,” he whispered back, stepping closer the the counter, touching the librarian’s hand. “How old are you?”

 “Twenty-three,” she whispered, her breasts rising as her breathing increased. She interlaced her hand with his, while lightly, nervously licking her lips and swallowing.

 Joseph could feel her pulse quickening, and he was growing excited. He looked into her clear green eyes and smiled softly. “Miss,” he whispered, “what kind of special permission do I need to view these items?”

 {to be continued….}

%d bloggers like this: