Date: Tue, 27 Jul 1999 03:38:21 -0400
Subject: Re: Actual librarian porn
Status: R

David Pacheco writeth:

lots42@aol.comaol.com. says...
> http://www.nifty.org/nifty/lesbian/beginnings/library-lesbians

In memoriam: to good times, and better posters, in moments from Usenet's 
past.  Story from the above site: inserts in brackets, mine.


            --------------------------------------------------

                         Library Lesbians (1/2)

  The pretty blonde hesitated outside the steps of the Municipal <Court 
House, awaiting her trial on soliciting charges>Library. It was Monday 
morning, and she was <confused by the long words on the subpoena.  
"Pro... pros... pruuuuuh... prost... DAMMIT!">scared.

Tiffany Simpkins had been working <on her butter sculpture of JFK Jr.>in 
the Library for several months. It was her first professional post after 
leaving <The Wayward School for One-Dimensional Characters>college and 
she had found it <under a rock>enjoyable and challenging.

However, after her three-month <probation>induction period she had been 
transferred <to the KC Royals for a starting pitcher and a glass of 
sparkling water>to the Reference Library up on the third <dimension> 
floor. And under the <demonic spell>supervision of Miss Ryan, the 
<stereotypical pornographic authoritarian figure>Reference Librarian.
 
Tiffany worked with her <violent-impulse-management therapist>on a daily 
basis, and their working <demo model of a>relationship had been fine, if 
a little <dwarf hadn't been> limited to professional and service 
provision matters. However, the past week has become rather difficult 
for Tiffany - Miss Ryan had begun to come on to her <desk and pound her 
chest like a monkey>.

At first Tiffany had thought that Miss Ryan was just <dangerously 
psychotic>warming to her, but then it became too obvious - Tiffany found 
her <tuna casserole rather dry>brushing past her rather too often than 
necessary, and touching her hand or arm <BAD touch!  BAD touch!> when 
making a point, and looking at her for long periods without any shame 
<Shame?  Can you teach me how to shoot, Shame?>: even when Tiffany 
managed to pluck <out her good eye>up the courage and look her in the 
<remaining>eye. Miss Ryan simply stared <at her>back.
 
Tiffany normally spent the first couple of hours of each Monday
morning in <an alcohol-induced coma>the administration room, as she 
wasn't due for <several months.  THE SLUT!>desk duty until midday. As 
she walked up the main stairs of the library she passed the narrow 
<minded>staff-only staircase to the upstairs archive collection. 

In that doorway, obviously waiting for her, was <DEATH!  AHHH!>Miss 
Ryan.  Tiffany froze in her <flashing police lights>tracks without a 
word being said. Miss Ryan stepped to <the rhythm of the street>one side 
and indicated that Tiffany should climb <every mountain, forge every 
stream>the stairs.  Almost in a trance, rigid with shock, Tiffany <sang 
"I think we're alone now">did as she was expected and climbed the steep, 
narrow staircase, weak at the <linguistics section of the SATs)knees, 
her stomach <Charles>skittering<, S&L destroyer>.

She entered the room at the top of the stairs and walked into it. She 
didn't turn round, but heard Miss Ryan <join in on the chorus>follow 
her, then the sound of the door swinging <low, sweet chariot>shut, and 
then the door being looked. <This is not a typo, but rather a speech 
impediment: later on, Miss Ryan asks Tiffany to suck her cook.  Please 
don't mook her.>

"Turn around." The command was spoken in a <bullhorn>firm voice, and
Tiffany did so, her eyelids lowered, staring at the floor<her *eyelids* 
staring at the floor?  FREEEEEEAK!>. Miss Ryan stepped forward and 
stopped a pace in front of her, and took hold of Tiffany's chin and 
lifted her head <taking one -- and only one -- giant brick of PEZ> .

A pair of dark, intense eyes bored <the reader>into her, eyes that were
glinting with <angel dust>lust. Miss Ryan took a pace forward and
pressed her lips against Tiffany's <asthma medicine vaporizer>.

The blonde let out a little moan of protest <"uh... duh?">and stepped 
backwards, but the older women matched her every step and suddenly <they 
were TANGOING!>Tiffany was pushed against a bookstack and could retreat
no further <in shame from the narrative>and Miss Ryan was kissing her 
ever so deeply.

The heavy breasts of the older woman was pressing against her <knees>, 
and suddenly Tiffany realised that she wanted <a more fully developed 
character, a credible storyline, better lighting>this, wanted it so 
badly. She began to kiss back and they <Vulcan mind->probed each other 
with their tongues and each began to moan and groan and express their 
<mutual embarassment>urgency in whimpers and gasps <and moans, oh MY!>.

And then Tiffany felt a hand on her <shoulder, whipping her around.  
"Dad!" she gasped, leading us into a different story altogether>skirt, 
fumbling at the <Yale padlock> catch, and Tiffany helped and her skirt 
slipped to the floor. Then Miss Ryan pulled away and slowly knelt down 
<to pray>and Tiffany had to grip the shelves as her panties were quickly 
<dissolved by her acid breath>removed. And then.. and then.. <THE END!>
 
"Ohh.." Tiffany moaned - a long, soulful, trembling sigh that came
from <Liverpool, home of the Beatles>deep within her fulsome <fulsome? 
As in 'disgusting by excess of flattery'(OED)?>bosom. She bit her lip, 
<then bit her tongue, the hand the feeds her, the bullet and more than 
she could chew>and a guilty expression stole across her face at the 
thought of <accepting money for playing this crappy role>what was 
happening to her. She moaned once again - even longer this time, rising 
in pitch until it became a <mating signal for cave bats>shuddering 
squeak. "Miss Ryan!" she whispered, as if chiding her supervisor for 
misfiling a catalogue card <which she had too, and in a most 
inappropriate location, considering the circumstances>. 

Miss Ryan took no notice <of her impending doom>, persevering with her 
oral assault on the junior <Mint>librarian. The young girl's pussy was 
flooding with aromatic juices <lemon! lime! strawberry!>and her labia 
had engorged most gratifyingly as a result of the spinster's 
cunnilingual <was she a language student?>assault, and the clit on the 
girl! <IT HAD TEETH!>It was like a thimble, and Miss Ryan pulled on the 
stiff little <fingers album>bud with her teeth, eliciting yet another 
moan from the blonde <'IT HURTS! IT HURTS!'>.

                    --------------------------

It goes on, but I didn't.

-dp.