Library Window Showoff: Stranger's Eyes on Her Wet Fingers

Library Window Showoff: Stranger's Eyes on Her Wet Fingers

The third floor of the university library was dead quiet after ten. Lila had the entire study wing to herself, the long oak tables stretching into shadow under the low emergency lights. She was supposed to be finishing her psych paper. Instead, the 22-year-old sat sideways in a wooden chair, one knee drawn up, the short plaid skirt she’d worn to tease herself riding dangerously high on her bare thighs. No panties. She never wore them on nights like this.

Her gaze drifted past her laptop screen toward the tall glass wall that faced the newer engineering building across the narrow courtyard. Most of those windows were dark, but one was lit. A man stood there, perfectly framed by the glass, watching her.

He was in his late twenties, broad-shouldered, dark hair, sharp jaw. Even from this distance she could tell he was handsome in a rough, confident way. And he wasn’t pretending to look somewhere else. His eyes were locked on her like she was the only thing in the world.

Lila’s breath caught. A hot flush rolled down her chest and settled between her legs. Slowly, deliberately, she let her raised knee fall to the side. The short skirt slipped higher. Cool library air kissed her bare, already slick pussy. She held the position, thighs parted on the edge of the desk, letting him see everything.

He didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned closer to the glass.

Her heart hammered so hard she felt it in her clit. This was insane. Reckless. Perfect.

Lila’s fingers trembled just a little as she reached down and gathered the hem of her skirt, tugging it up until the entire lower half of her body was on display. She kept her eyes on his the entire time. When she saw his lips part, she smiled, small and filthy, and slid two fingers down over her smooth mound.

The first touch to her clit made her hips jerk. She was soaked. She circled slowly, spreading her wetness, letting the stranger watch exactly how her slick folds glistened under the library lights. His hand dropped to the front of his jeans. He palmed the thick ridge of his cock, squeezing, and Lila’s breath hitched into a soft moan that echoed in the empty stacks.

She wanted more of his eyes on her. Needed it.

Two fingers dipped lower, parting her pussy lips, showing him the tight pink entrance before she pushed both fingers inside herself in one smooth glide. The wet sound was obscene in the silence. Lila gasped, thighs shaking, and started fucking herself with slow, deep strokes while her thumb stayed on her swollen clit.

The stranger stepped right up to the window now. She could see the hunger carved into his face. He yanked his zipper down, pulled out a thick, heavy cock, and wrapped his fist around it. The sight made her pussy clench hard around her fingers.

Lila’s hips rocked shamelessly on the desk. She fucked herself faster, the wet squelch of her fingers loud enough that she imagined it carrying across the courtyard. Her other hand gripped the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles went white. She never broke eye contact. Every thrust of her fingers, every roll of her thumb over her clit, was for him.

She was close already, embarrassingly close, but she didn’t want to come like this. She wanted him to see her completely surrendered.

Lila pulled her fingers out with a filthy pop, stood on shaky legs, and turned around. She bent over the wide oak desk, chest pressed to the cool wood, ass pushed toward the window. The plaid skirt flipped up onto her lower back, completely baring her dripping cunt and tight little asshole to the night air and to his starving gaze.

She reached back with both hands. One spread her pussy open, the other drove two fingers back inside her soaked hole. The new angle made her whimper. She started fucking herself hard, fast, fingers slamming in and out while her other hand found her clit again and rubbed tight, frantic circles.

Her moans grew louder, shameless. She imagined him right behind her, imagined that thick cock stretching her instead of her own fingers. The fantasy tipped her over.

Lila came with a broken cry, thighs locked, pussy spasming violently around her fingers. A hot gush of squirt sprayed out between her knuckles, splattering down her trembling thighs and onto the library floor. She kept rubbing, kept fucking herself through the orgasm, drawing it out until her legs shook so badly she could barely stay upright.

Across the courtyard the stranger was stroking furiously. His mouth opened in a silent groan as thick ropes of cum splattered against the glass, running down in heavy white streaks. He kept pumping until every drop was spent, forehead pressed to the window like he wished he could climb through it.

Lila stayed bent over for a long moment, panting, fingers still buried inside her twitching cunt. When the last aftershock faded she slowly pulled them free, strings of her cum stretching between her pussy and her glistening hand.

She turned to face the window again.

The stranger was still there, cock hanging heavy and spent out of his open fly, chest heaving. Lila raised her soaked fingers to her mouth, locked eyes with him, and licked them clean like they were coated in the sweetest honey. She dragged her tongue between each digit, sucking every drop of her own juices off with obscene, deliberate swirls. When she finished she gave him one last wicked, satisfied smile.

Then she gathered her laptop, notebook, and bag with surprising calm, smoothed her soaked skirt down over her sticky thighs, and walked away without looking back.

She didn’t head for the stairs right away. Instead she slipped into the narrow service hallway that ran behind the study rooms. From there, a small staff window looked directly across at the exact spot where the stranger still stood, forehead against the glass, trying to catch his breath.

Lila stopped in the dark and watched him.

She saw the exact moment he realized she was gone. He straightened, looked around the empty library floor, then suddenly frowned. His hand went to his back pocket. He pulled out his phone, stared at the screen, and his whole body language changed.

Lila smiled in the shadows, still tasting herself on her tongue.

She had recognized him the second he stepped into the light. Professor Kane. The same man who taught her advanced psychology seminar every Tuesday and Thursday. The man whose office hours she had attended twice this week, sitting in the front row with her legs crossed, wondering what he would think if he knew she left his class every time with soaked panties.

He had no idea the girl he’d just watched squirt all over a library desk was one of his students.

Lila adjusted her bag on her shoulder, licked her bottom lip one last time, and disappeared down the back stairs, the secret burning deliciously between her thighs all the way home.