Not-So-Quiet Library Relaxation (f)
Itās a lazy Saturday evening. Lately, daylight has become more and more scarce, with the fall colors dancing across the trees and sidewalks. It was a last minute decision, but I decided to get myself out of the house and venture down the street. The chill in the air caused me to dig my hands in my pockets, the wind cementing the onset of autumn. I wasnāt intending on finding myself in front of the library, but the fallen leaves seemed to have led me right to the door.
Shuffling to the entrance, I squinted at the hours posted on a main window. I thought for a moment. Pulling my left hand from the warmth of my jacket, I checked my watch. Five oāclock. The library closed at six, meaning I could get in a solid 45 to an hour of light reading. Of course, it would be dark by the time I headed home, but so be it.
I pulled on the handle, feeling a rush of warm air that caused me to shiver. I sighed with relief from the cold and surveyed the room. I usually gravitate towards the adult mysteries, then settle myself into an armchair for a while.
It didnāt take me long to find a compelling novel, but it did take me some time to locate the ideal armchair. I walked over and scanned them all individually with each step. To my far left were the sunken-in chairs, long past their prime. To my right were the chairs near the computers. Nothing wrong with those structure or comfort-wise, but the clacking of keyboards can be too loud for my sensitive ears. This left me with the chairs directly in front of me. I noticed a woman there. She had made a similar deduction as I had and was buried deep in a book smack in the center of all the armchairs. Not wanting to appear rude, I left a chair empty in between us and chose an armchair to her right.
Initially, I thought nothing of the woman besides noticing her quiet beauty. She had long, brunette hair done in soft curls that framed her face. I found her eyes to be a deep, calming brown. Her nose and lips complimented her dark features with a sharp flair. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she delicately flipped the page, her fingers adorned with gold rings, wrists decorated with bangles. I thought back to the outfit I saw she was wearing as I walked up to the reading area. I remembered her tall, brown boots and tights underneath an obviously small skirt. One side of her jacket revealed a form-fitted halter top that made her breasts look just fantastic.
Then, I heard sounds that caught my attention. My book was interesting, sure. But not nearly as interesting as what was simmering no more than 5 feet away. It began with a small intake of breath. Becoming privy to a possible problem for the woman, I feigned interest in my book and my book only. The reality was that I was now entranced in everything that was going on next to me.
One slightly larger breath was all it took. I watched as the woman, with one extended finger, tucked her face downward into her chest. Her body visibly bounced with the force that she so diligently tried to suppress. Not moving a muscle, I froze in anticipation. Sure enough, I cautiously observed while the womanās mouth dropped open once again. Whatever tickle was assailing her, it showed no mercy and wouldnāt be satisfied by a single stifle. This time, I spotted the crumpled tissue she held in her left hand. These couldnāt have been her first library sneezes, and wouldnāt be the last, either.
Continue the scenario as youād like and enjoy being witness to the growing itch in an unsuspecting womanās nose :)
