Library Philosophy
Keywords: Library, Philosophy,
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Hatred is never appeased by hatred in this world; it is appeased by love. This is an eternal Law," I read out loud. I looked up at my study partner.
"Who said that?" Erik asked me. We were at the university library, studying for our term papers for our Philosophy of Love class.
"Buddha," I said. I had a stack of books before me on ancient eastern philosophies. My paper was going to be a study in how the evolution of love in the East differs from the concept in modern Western thought.
"Smart dude," he said absently, not even looking up from the book he had propped in front of him.
"Think about it," I said. "The whole notion of love thy enemy, turn the other cheek, etc., its a beautiful thing."
"Mmhmm," he murmered.
I kicked him in the shin underneath the table.
"Ow!" he looked up. "What the hell was that for?"
"Because you're not paying attention," I stuck out my tongue at him. Erik was a good friend of mine. He was roommates with one of my best friends, whom I casually dated occasionally. His roommate and I often would hit the movies, or catch out the latest band, or just fuck like bunnies. He was a lot of fun. While Erik was definitely the cuter of the two, his roommate was more outgoing. Erik and I had developed a good friendship. We'd gone out a couple of times, but never anything beyond a platonic level. He treated me like his roommate's girlfriend, even though I wasn't. He was the only person I knew in my Philosophy class, though, so we'd often get together to work on homework and whatnot. He'd called me up yesterday, asking if I wanted to meet at the uni library to research for our papers. I quickly agreed. Studying with him was far more fun than studying alone. I'd dressed for the occasion, in my best sexy library outfit: short, pin-striped black skirt, garter nylons with a seam in the back, black heels, and a tailored button-down blouse, unbuttoned just far enough for my bra to occasionally peek out when I turned just right. I admit, it was a deliberate attempt to catch his attention, but that man was just not biting the bait.
He looked up at me and sighed. "I'm paying attention, dork. Buddha, got it. Smart guy. Dead guy. Now, if you don't mind, I'm trying to read."
"Whatcha reading?" I asked him.
"Philosophy in the Bedroom," He replied, turning a page.
Well well, that was a more intriguing book than mine, just based on the title alone. My ears perked up. "Oh really? Who wrote it?"
"The Marquis de Sade," he replied.
I was a little shocked. He was hardly mentioned in our textbook, being more a man about dark sexual philosophy than love. I looked over at his stack of books, checking out the titles. I saw more titles by de Sade: 'Justine, or the Misfortunes of Virtue;' 'Juliette;' and '120 days of Sodom.' I saw a copy of 'The Story of O.' And then there were two interesting biographies that caught my eye: 'The First Masochist: A Biography of Leopold Von Sacher-Masoch,' and 'The Marquis and the Chevalier: A study of the psychology of sex as illustrated by the lives and personalities of the Marquis de Sade and the Chevalier von Sacher-Masoch.' My eyes widened. "Umm, Erik, those books aren't exactly about the philosophy of love."
"Sure, they are," he looked at me. "Tough love." He grinned.
I chuckled. "Just what is your paper about? I'm all curious now." I'd read a few of the ones in his stack, I was no ignorant school girl, no pun intended.
"How you can love someone and still want to hurt them, or be hurt by them, in a non-abusing sort of way."
"So, the love of surrender and sexual sadomasochism," I rephrased for him.
"Hey, I like that title, mind if I use it?" Erik grabbed a pen and started writing it down.
"Be my guest," I replied, with a wave of my hand. "Your topic's much better than mine. I wish I had thought of that," I muttered.
"Why's that? Yours is great, too. Imagine a world populated by Gandhi-esque thinkers."
"Yeah, that was kind of what I was going with, but damn man, I've read half the books in your stack, it would have been easier to go with what I know than something I don't."
He raised an eyebrow and looked at me. "You have? What for?"
I smiled demurely, "For the pleasure of it." I looked down at my book, pretending to study again.
I saw him put his pencil down out of the corner of my eye, and lean across the table. "You? Little miss sweet & innocent?"
"Is that who I am?" I gasped. "And here I thought I was little miss debauchery."
He grinned. "Darlin', that's not the impression you give off."
I grinned back, setting my book back down on the table. "Good, then my secret identity is still safe." I winked at him. He just shook his head. "You know," I continued, "Its not wise to write about something you don't know. Book smarts do not compare to actual experience." I admit, I was baiting big time with that comment. I just hoped he'd pick up on the hints. Men can be such stumps sometimes.
"Oh yeah? What about you? Miss ancient eastern philosophy?"
"I thought I was little miss sweet & innocent!" I protested. "Besides, I practice what I preach. I love my enemy, and turn the other cheek, and all that stuff."
"Well, you are one of the nicest girls I know," he conceded. "What happens when you turn the other cheek?"
"It usually gets slapped." I winked at him.
He sprouted a wicked grin. "And all this time I thought you were..." he trailed off.
"Thought I was what?" I prompted, smiling the most innocent smile I could.
"Well, a nice girl."
I laughed out loud. "A nice girl. I am a nice girl. All that noise you hear coming from your roommate's bedroom when I'm over - that's me being oh so very nice. We play nice games. Very nice games." My stomach tingled, just thinking about the fun bedroom games we'd played.
"Oh yeah?" Erik had a thoughtful expression on his face. "Wanna play a game, little miss sweet & innocent?"
"What kind of a game?" I asked coyly, shifting in my seat. I liked this turn of conversation.
He grinned wickedly at me. "The kind where I tell you what to do and you do it."
"Like what?" I asked, hoping I'd like his answer. I was getting very turned on with the way our conversation was heading. This might turn out to be the best study date ever.
He leaned forward, and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Take off your panties, little girl."
I dropped my jaw. "What, right here?" I whispered fiercely. He nodded his head. I looked around the library. There were a few students scattered about, studying at various tables, wandering through the aisles of books. It was a typical university library, quiet and studious. "But there's too many people!" I protested, squirming in my chair a bit.
"I don't have all day," he whispered, grabbing my hand forcefully. "You've got 30 seconds."
I looked at him, stunned, wasting a few precious seconds. He was very serious. I gulped, and looked around me again. No one was watching us, all the other students were dutifully minding their own business. I shifted in my chair, reached up my skirt, and carefully drew my thong down my legs, and over my shoes. I wadded it up into a little ball underneath the table and placed it in his hand. He opened up the ball of cloth, holding my thong up in front of him, admiring the little piece of black fabric.
"Put that down," I gasped. "You're going to draw us too much attention!"
He just grinned. "No one's watching, no one cares, and if they did, you'd do it anyway, wouldn't you, little girl." He wadded it back up and shoved it in his pants pocket.
I gulped again. My stomach did a little flip-flop. I nodded my head. He'd been studying his books well, I thought.
"Good," he smiled. "Now your bra. Give it to me."
I glared at him. "I can't take that off here!" I protested.
Erik sighed. "Look, I know you girls can most definitely take off a bra without undoing a single button. Its this magic talent you have, so do it!"
I stared at him blankly. I reached behind me, and unclasped it from the outside of my shirt. I wiggled my shoulders, forcing the straps to fall off. I reached up one sleeve, and slipped one strap off my arm. I reached up the other and did the same. Then I reached inside my cleavage, and slowly slipped my bra off, not even looking to see if anyone was watching, not wanting to know, hoping that they weren't, hoping that if they were it turned them on. I folded it neatly and set it on his book.
He smiled approvingly. "Good girl." He grabbed my lacy black bra and put it in his book bag. "Now come with me," he ordered, standing up, and grabbing my hand. I let him lead me off down through the aisles of books, to the back of the library, amongst the dustiest of tomes on the dustiest of shelves. I walked without underwear, feeling naked and exposed, while being fully dressed. I shivered involuntary as a chill ran down my spine.
He shoved me up against a rack of books. I could feel the spines of the tomes pressing into my back. His body pressed against mine. He was tall. Easily a foot taller than me. He really did make me feel like a little girl. I moaned. "Now you better be quiet," he whispered into my ear, causing goosebumps to descend down my body with his breath, "We're in a library."
I furtively glanced left and right. "But what if someone catches-" I started to protest
He put a hand over my mouth, cutting my sentence off mid-stream. "That's not your concern, little girl. Your only concern is me."
I nodded my head mutely.
"And the only thought that should be running through your brain is, 'what would make Erik happy?' Do you know what would make me happy?" he nibbled on my ear, sending a new rash of goosebumps coursing acorss my skin. I wrapped my arms around his side, pulling him in closely, rational thought leaving my brain.
"What?" I whispered.
"Unbutton your blouse." He stepped back and stared meaningfully at me.
I dared not look left or right to see if anyone was there, but out of the corners of my eyes I spotted no movement. I slowly slid my hands up my blouse and began to unbutton it, slowly, one button at a time.
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Keywords: Library, Philosophy,