Sexy Sunday Snack: Week 3: Stormy Submission

STORMY SUBMISSION

The library was darker at night, a little eerie really. Freddy glanced around the stacks as he made his way to the very back. He hadn’t seen a soul since he’d walked past the front desk on his way upstairs. It was slightly unnerving to be all alone, but he needed the quiet. His roommate was being loud as ever with his girlfriend back home and the library was just the place to get some homework done.

Finding his usual table—the only table this far back—he set down his laptop and got to work quickly. The paper he had to turn in on Tuesday was shaping up to be an all-nighter. He sighed, re-reading what he had so far. A sip from his stashed thermos of coffee and Freddy was ready to burn some midnight oil.

About an hour into writing, a creak caused him to look around. From the window to his left, he saw the rain starting to come down, a flash of lightning in the sky. Probably just the storm, Freddy settled back and rubbed his face. A few sentences more and he heard the creak—louder this time. Glancing about, the feeling of being watched made him paranoid.

“Stupid,” he muttered to himself. The creak started yet again, a rhythm to the noise with no source—over and over like a door in the wind.

Freddy was about to get up when a powerful streak of lightning turned the sky white, his laptop going blank, and all the lights in the library extinguished.

“Fuck,” he groaned. The creaking grew louder, a small wobbly noise adding to the mystery sound. Emergency lights blinked on, his lone grace in the otherwise dark building.

He stood up, prepared to go downstairs to the front desk when a book cart pushed into the aisle up ahead. A man held onto the handle, his head turned—eyes set on Freddy. Frozen in place, Freddy took in the stranger. He’d never seen another librarian up here before, especially this guy. His clothes were a little dated—dark brown slacks and a button up vest with a tie tucked in. His style didn’t take away from his handsome profile or the fact that the more Freddy stared at him, the more he felt drawn in—seduced.

“I’m sorry if I frightened you,” the man spoke, his voice liquid honey to Freddy’s ears.

Damn, he gorgeous, Freddy thought. “It’s…uh, it’s okay. The dark spooked me a bit I think.”

“It’s only a power outage. The lights will come on eventually,” the librarian replied. Freddy took a step forward, fighting the need to run to the man. Maybe he hadn’t had enough sleep lately or gotten any action in a while, because this guy was calling to his libido in an undefinable way.

“You can sit in my office to wait for the storm to pass if you like. There is an emergency light in there.” The stranger smiled, but it wasn’t beaming or gentle.  It was sensual, heated, and Freddy found himself nodding. “Follow me…”

His belongings abandoned to the dark, Freddy followed the creaky book cart and the man pushing it down a small hallway. The last door wasn’t marked like the other offices. There wasn’t a window on the door either. But there was a light on as the door opened. A desk, a chair, and an empty bookcase against one wall, three large windows facing the campus courtyard—a small room, but the book cart fit along with the two of them.

“You…uh…don’t have a computer?” Freddy looked around. There were no pictures, plants, decorations of any sort. It was more like a model office than a real one. Maybe even a storage room at one time.

“I don’t need any of that,” the librarian said.

“Sure. What’s your name?”

“You can call me Harry.” The stranger turned around and Freddy fought to gasp. His ass pushed into the desk, he felt himself harden at the sight of those dark almond-shaped eyes.  “And what’s your name?”

The man stepped into Freddy, the close proximity making it hard to breathe. His chest heaved, his back arched a little as the man left a few inches between them.

“Freddy,” he breathed.

“Why are you here, Freddy?” A hand reached out and caressed his bare arm. Cold yet warm, the man’s skin on his caused Freddy to moan. “What made you journey out in this kind of weather?”

“I…I was doing homework.”

“Like a good boy?” Harry’s whisper made Freddy shiver. The librarian pressed his hips close, tight to Freddy’s.

“Yes,” he automatically replied. What was this guy doing to him? A staff member touching a student like this, wasn’t it wrong? Oh God, Freddy bit his lip, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Are you really a good boy, Freddy?” Harry rubbed his fabric covered erection into Freddy’s groin.

Head falling back, his surroundings and conscious alarm bells forgotten, Freddy moaned. “Yes, I’m a good boy.” What was he saying? Why was he letting this man touch him? He didn’t know Harry from Adam, yet he wanted the man. He suddenly craved him.

Fingers found their way under his shirt, the same cool skin warming him inside. “Tonight, you’re my good boy,” Harry promised, whisking Freddy’s shirt from his body. “Say it, Freddy.”

A lick of his lips and Freddy was ready to submit to the taller man. “Yes, I’m your good boy.”

A tongue swept over his neck, fingers twisted his nipples until his cock was ready to explode in his jeans. “Take it all off. Show me your body,” Harry demanded in a deep voice.

Freddy was quick to obey, shucking his remaining clothes off in seconds. Shoes hitting the wall, he cried out—one hand finding his cock, one pushing fingers into his hungry mouth. He didn’t question how Harry had taken his clothes off, how he was now naked against him already. Freddy suddenly only wanted the librarian like no one he had ever wanted before, to be filled with the thick cock that rubbed between his thighs.

“That’s it, Freddy. Suck my fingers. Make sure they’re really wet,” Harry whispered in his ear. Freddy knew where those fingers were going next. He sucked them for all that he worth, wet them until they dripped of his flavor. “Mm, you like that don’t you?”

Fingers leaving his mouth, Freddy gasped. “Yes, please!”

“Don’t beg.” Harry narrowed his eyes. “Good boys are quiet unless asked to speak. Apologize.”

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Freddy’s eyes went wide, fingers rubbing over his entrance—teasing him while a hand worked his cock.

“Now tell me what you want, Freddy. This is your only chance. So, you better be very specific.”

His back plastered across the desk, Freddy opened his legs wide for Harry. His ass doing circles over the surface and against the long fingers that waited for his instruction. Flushed cheeks, Freddy bit his lip with embarrassment. He’d never been demanding in bed. He’d never been able to say what he wanted, always meek and grateful for what he was given. Now he wanted more than ever for Harry to…

“Fingers inside me!  Stretch me, Harry. Kiss me then fuck me, something please!”

“As you wish,” Harry growled.

Two fingers plunged inside him and Freddy arched off the table with a cry of need. He squirmed at the tight, sharp pain of Harry’s forceful manner, but wanted it harder, needed it from the man that had become the only thing he could think about. He grunted and groaned, bit his fist and cried Harry’s name—fingers in, fingers out, the sound of the librarian’s hand smacking his flesh.

“Yes, yes, there!” Freddy’s feet planted on the desk and he pushed his lower body off the surface to keep that hand right where it was. Pleasure flooded his senses, his eyes unseeing.

“No. You do not demand of me. Good boys always ask first.” Harry’s fingers slipped out of Freddy—wet, they slid over the boy’s thigh, leaving a glossy trail in the dim light. “As punishment for your disobedience, I revoke your kissing privileges. Naughty boys don’t deserve sweets.”

The way Harry talked to him only turned Freddy on more. He was dominated, slightly humiliated, but more than ever…he was on fire with need. “On your hands and knees.”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Freddy whispered roughly. He wasn’t really, but he hoped Harry would treat him harsher for speaking out of turn.

With his palms and knees against the hard surface, Freddy winced when a hand slapped his ass. “What did I tell you about speaking with being told to?” Another slap, his hair was pulled into a fist, leaving his neck exposed to the librarian.

“You told me not to.”

Wet fingers traced Freddy’s lips, his own flavor coating his mouth before the digits slipped inside. “Yes, I did. Clean them thoroughly.” Another slap jolted Freddy. Another one on the other cheek and he was leaking all over the desk. He’d never felt so alive. Then again, he’d never fucked a stranger either. It was new, exciting, naughty—Freddy was eager for more.

He moaned around Harry’s hand, sucking himself from the fingers offered. Once they were clean, Harry pulled Freddy’s hips to the edge of the desk and licked a slow line up his ass. “Such a good boy,” he murmured. “So tasty and eager to please me. Put your face on the desk, give me this ass.”

“Yes, sir,” Freddy moaned, planting his face against the cool surface. His arms to his sides, his ass lifted further into the air—his cheeks spreading easily for Harry to see.

A hand ran over his back appreciatively. “It has been a long time since I was able to do this. Too long,” Harry mused.

Freddy didn’t know what the man was talking about, but he didn’t care. He felt Harry’s cockhead press against his hole and he balled his fists in wait. A few flicks of his cock against the rosy entrance of his boy’s ass and Harry plunged in to the hilt. No stopping to get used to things, no wait for the pain to subside.

“Good boys take what they are given,” he said out loud over the sound of Freddy’s glorious scream of rapture. “Yes, take it.”

A hand pressed his face into the desk further, an arm around his waist while Harry fucked him hard. Freddy’s mind spun. Lightning lit up the room over and over, rain stormed from the sky—the sound ferocious above them. He moaned his pleasure. Freddy rolling his hips thrust for thrust—taking Harry as deep as he could—feeling that slick cock slither against his insides before plunging back inside.

His bottom lip between his teeth, Freddy mewled for more, for release. The moment came where his body was giving over, the feeling of leaping out of his own skin. He had to cum, but he knew he needed permission. He just knew.

“Cum for me,” Harry hissed and smacked Freddy’s ass so hard his head lifted up. His seed hit the desk, commanded from his body by the man behind him, a wordless cry from his mouth.

His body collapsed against the surface he covered. Freddy was spent, lost, gone somewhere else. His sleepy eyes took in the storm one last time, Harry’s shadow against the wall turning then disappearing. He couldn’t protest the feeling of Harry leaving him. Freddy’s eyes were closing slowly. Sleep took him and his breathing relaxed as he lay in his own release.

Freddy awoke sometime later. It was still dark outside. He was lying on the desk. Harry, he whipped his head around looking for the man who had excited his body in such a way Freddy would never forget. He frowned as he found the room empty except for him. With a wince, Freddy peeled himself away from the surface of the desk—his release now dried to his skin.

Quickly he found his clothes, his shoes under the chair in the corner. Dressed, but not presentable, Freddy peeked out the door to see the empty hallway. All the lights were on now, the fluorescents above blinding to his eyes from the darker office. He blinked a few times before walking slowly down the hall. Freddy searched for Harry, but all the offices were locked.

When he got back to his desk in the stacks, all his supplies were just as he’d left them. His document was open on the laptop, the cursor blinking for him to continue with his essay on Russian mythology.

“Weird,” he breathed. He didn’t care about his homework anymore. Freddy had to find Harry, get his information or something. He had to see him again.

All his stuff packed into his messenger bag, he walked quickly through the eerie stacks and down the stairs. The librarian at the front desk was helping her assistant on the computer. She glanced up with a smile.

“You’re done already?” She quietly asked. She always chatted with him a little before and after his studies.

“Uh, not really, but can I ask you a question?”

“What do you need honey?” She adjusted her glasses with another smile.

“I was wondering if the other librarian, Harry, left for the evening. Or maybe you know where he might be?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Freddy saw the assistant stiffen—turn to him in shock. The librarian went still as well, her smile fading, and she took a step back.

“I’m sorry. There is no librarian by that name. I think it’s best if you get on home now. We’ll be closing for the janitors soon.” Her demeanor changed completely.

Freddy screwed up his brows. “Excuse me, but I just…talked with him upstairs a little while ago. I needed to give him something.”

She leaned over the counter and looked both ways. “You need to go home, now.”

Freddy followed her lead and looked around. Now he was getting the chills. The assistant still didn’t move, her mouth still open, her eyes terrified. The librarian in his face was very serious. Something was wrong and Freddy had the feeling of being watched again and it wasn’t the two women in front of him, but there was no one else around.

“Why?” He whispered. “Do you know who Harry is?”

“We’re closing up now. So, if you would please leave.”  She leaned back and turned around. The conversation was over. Freddy scoffed at her cold attitude, but he frowned as the assistant shook her head at him—warning him not to push the subject. She was scared.

“Alright, I’m going.” Freddy adjusted his bag around his shoulder and flicked a look to the librarian.

As he was leaving he heard her call softly, “please be safe!”

He raised a hand, opening the door into the night. What the hell, he shoved his hands into his pockets in thought. Twenty minutes later he was back in his campus apartment. Thankfully his roommate and the girlfriend were either passed out or had gone partying. The place was quiet as he let his bag fall onto his bed and sat down to fetch his computer.

Booting up his search engine, Freddy moved around on the bed to get comfy. He was a little sore, but the process of getting there had been worth it. That got him to smile with a bite to his lip. The page loaded and he typed in his college library along with Harry and librarian. His fingers tapped on his knee as the results loaded. He was determined to find Harry. He just had to see him again.

When the text appeared, his eyes narrowed a little in disbelief, but he clicked the first search result to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. A local newspaper scan from twenty years ago topped off a blog entry made just this year.

There smack dab in front of him was Harry’s face. His Harry from only hours ago, but the paper was dated 1978. Harry would have to be in his sixties if this was correct. The man he had seen, the one in the very picture before him, was hardly thirty. Fear grabbed Freddy by the shoulders and made him click to view the article.

George Jenkins University Librarian murdered as the result of an affair with a student. Harrison Gobles, age twenty seven, was found dead in his office on the library’s second floor March 18, 1978. The victim of multiple bullet wounds to the chest, Harrison was pronounced dead on the scene by first responders. The suspect, Tim Vanley, age 19, claimed he shot Gobles when he found that the campus employee had been having relations with yet another male student; a lover’s quarrel that resulted in the loss of Harrison Goble’s life.

Freddy took a deep breath, realizing his entire body was shaking before he read the more recent blog entry underneath.

George Jenkins University’s best kept paranormal secret. While the story of Goble’s death was kept quiet among the small community and out of the national spotlight—claiming the ordeal was not as it appeared, thus downplaying the entire event—alumni and booklovers alike will tell you quite a different tale.  It is said that during the night that Goble’s died, a large storm rolled into town. The story goes that if on a stormy night, while at the library, you can hear the ghost of Harrison Goble’s pushing his creaky cart in the stacks upstairs.

The librarian’s and staff have also reported seeing a full body apparition of Goble’s wandering the halls at night. Students will tell you that he is seeking revenge, but some will tell you he is simply seeking another lover. One student, who we still have yet to talk to, reported the ghost lured him to Goble’s old office where he spent five hours locked inside. No such event was reported to any campus staff and cannot be proved.

If you’re looking for a good spook, George Jenkins Campus Library is where it’s at. If you see old Harrison walking around, give him a hello for me.

Freddy shut his laptop with trembling fingers. It slid to the floor with a smack, but he didn’t care. A dead man? He had…with a ghost! He didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or throw up, but the evidence was there. The way the librarian had treated him. The assistant’s face when he left. Harry’s office looked more like a glorified storage room, because that’s what it was…abandoned storage, the article on his computer, the picture with the same haunting eyes. Holy fuck, Freddy fell back onto his bed staring at the ceiling. He just couldn’t accept this. It wasn’t real.

The ache in his ass said differently though. Just as he was about to pull the covers over his shaking body, he heard it. A soft creak that made his blood run cold. Creak, creak, another wobbly creak. Freddy plastered himself to the corner of his bed, watching the open door to his room. The light in the hall buzzed on.

“Ethan?” Freddy called for his roommate. “Is that you?”

Creak. Creak. Creak.

“Oh God.” Freddy pulled the covers up to his chin.

A book cart rolled past his door slowly—a man pushing it with a smile.

“Oh fuck!” Freddy was going to pass out as Harrison walked into his room and slammed the door shut. “This isn’t real. It’s not real!”

Harrison smiled darkly. His eyes narrowed with lust. “Oh Freddy, I didn’t say you could leave. What a naughty boy you’ve been.”

Freddy’s eyes glazed over at the sound of Harrison’s voice. His body responded as his mind fought to stay put.

“That’s alright. I like to punish you…” Harry grinned, ripping the cover off the bed.  The storm began a second round outside. Rain pattered against the windows as Freddy was pulled off the bed by his ankles, a mixed scream of terror and pleasure filling the room. “…because you’re my naughty boy now.”

THE END