1. My Library Fantasy: Daryl, chapter 1


    Date: 12/13/2014, Categories: Office Sex, Author: bonnierabbit, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

    passage from the book that I told him to. The next day we’re timetabled to be on the reference desk together. It worries me that this doesn’t happen very often – reference is totally isolated from the rest of the library. Secretly I’m terrified that it’s because they don’t want us to be alone together, but it’s really probably because he’s just not very good at reference queries. We need him on the counter, charming all the weirdos and nasty people into behaving themselves. Anyway, we’re there, and it’s quiet. He’s looking at a university website. “Have you decided where you’re going yet?” I ask. He swivels his chair around to me, and starts telling me all about it, the courses he’s been looking at, the universities he’s applied to and why, and the cities he’s thinking of going to. He starts talking about course fees. “I know, it’s shocking,” I say, casually, “It was only just over a grand a year when I went.” “What?” he sounds surprised, and I think it’s because he had no idea I was a graduate. How rude. “Wait, when did you go?” “Oooh, shameful,” I act embarrassed, “It was actually a full ten years ago that I graduated now.” I get ready with my excuse as to why I came out of the career I trained for. But he’s not asking about that, “Wait… how old are you?” How rude, again. I let him get away with it, because he’s cheeky, and I think it’s cute. “I’m thirty-three, honey,” I say, whispering as if I’m trying to keep it a secret. “No you’re not!” he’s surprised. I think he’s ...
    joking. “I know, I’m old, don’t rub it in.” “No,” he realises I think he’s being cheeky still, “Are you really?” “What’s he doing?” I wonder, and I say, “Yes, I really am thirty-three. Let’s drop the subject now!” “Bloody hell,” he says, in a broad central Lancashire accent, and he laughs, “I thought you were, like, my age.” Now I know he’s kidding, “Shut up,” I say, turning back to my screen and smiling. “No I really did,” he says in the most serious voice I’ve ever heard him do, and he turns back to his own screen too, embarrassed. “Bloody hell,” I think myself, “He’s actually serious. Bless him.” “Whatever,” I say. I can’t help doing a little smirk to myself. He thinks he’s made a fool of himself, so he doesn’t leave it. He turns back around to look at me, “When did you get that earring?” He changes the subject. I do have a newish ear piercing, it’s in my tragus, although I’ve had it for about six weeks now and it’s healed already. I’m cruel to him and don’t let him get away with being silly, he definitely doesn’t let me get away with it when I say stupid things. We tease each other relentlessly. He’s just walking right into it today. I can’t help it, “I’ve actually had that for ages, Daryl,” I say, still looking at my computer screen. Then I feel like I’m being too mean, so I turn back to him and say, “Maybe you should look at my face more often.” And he goes pink. He actually blushes pink. “Score,” I think, and smirk again. I can’t believe this is really happening. Is he ...
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