The Adventures of Marian, the slightly aggressive Librarian, #5 :

Love and Peril Behind the Check-out Counter

Chapter 5

With her face pressed up against the glass, Marian watched her lover take off into the clouds, never to return…….

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…………ok, the plane took off, and the lover was inside, and the plane will probably return……it just doesn’t sound as good that way.

There was a smudge on the glass before she put her face on it; she’d been so upset she hadn’t paid attention to it, but now it appeared the smudge was something sticky……..

Whatever the sticky stuff was, it stuck to Marian’s face, and didn’t want to come off with soap and water in the ladies room.

The perfect end to a perfect day, Marian thought darkly, eyeing her reflection in the big ladies room mirror. I’m up all night with Arthur, alternately begging him to stay, and wishing him good-bye----

At that point in her musings she stopped for a moment to reflect on the good-bye-wishing, and anybody who came in the bathroom right then would have seen a woman of middle years, looking at her own little smile in the mirror with eyes half-closed with satisfaction---Holy Smokes! she thought. I look like the Mona Lisa. So that’s the reason for the expression on her face. She’s just had five of the best orgasms of her life, and now she’s thinking about them………

Actually, even though Marian thought it, it wasn’t the end of the day, it was eight o’clock in the morning. It’s just that she hadn’t had any sleep, and it would have been ok with her if it was the end of the day. Instead, she had to go to the library, where she would be working all by herself, because she’d been stupid enough to give Henny the day off.

Rats, she thought scrubbing harder at her face. Rats.

She’d tried everything she knew to get Arthur to stay here in the USA instead of flying back to Australia. She’d even tried tears, although she wasn’t very good at that.

“I have to go back, Marian,” he’d said. “My visa was only for a short visit.”

“Will you come back?”

“I can’t afford to come back. My church helped get the money together to send me this time. Of course, now,” he mumbled, “they’re going to want a report on the activities of the affiliated churches here……and I’m not sure what I’m going to do about that……but maybe you could come to Australia.” He smiled then, an anxious and tender smile. So sweet, she thought as she ran her fingers through his hair, thinking, this could be the last time I get to do that.

“I don’t have that much money, either…..and I’ve used up all my vacation and sick days, too.” It was just not meant to be, she thought. It was too good, and so of course it couldn’t last.

Resignation didn’t sit well on Marian’s face, and Arthur looked even more anxious.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he said, “but I don’t see what else I can do that doesn’t involve going to jail. And I don’t think I’d like jail, even in America. Especially in America.”

Marian sighed. “Come here, sweetheart.” She wrapped her arms and legs around him, and they stayed clasped to each other’s hearts (and other places) the rest of the night. Not motionless, that would have been too much to ask, since they were both naked; and if they’d been perfectly still, they would both have been stiff and sore in the morning.…..As it was, neither one was both of those things……..well, maybe Arthur was…….Marian wasn’t stiff, she felt very…..supple. Relaxed. Limp. And only a little sore, really.

The sticky stuff just wouldn’t come off. Rats.

The airport wasn’t very crowded, in fact it seemed a little empty, but a large percentage of the people that were present seemed to be just standing around. Not running for a plane, not making for the exits, just…..standing. Seemed strange.

She walked for a few minutes and then stopped and looked around. She’d been too upset to pay much attention when they arrived, she’d just followed Arthur because he seemed to know where he was going. She discovered he’d made a small map of the airport when he arrived, and plotted out his return route then.

All the little alcoves with the computers and the rows of chairs looked the same. And she wasn’t sure which side of the building they’d come in on, so she couldn’t even use the sun through the windows as a guide. I suppose I’m lost again, she thought. Rats.

She wandered through the cavernous airport. She tried to ask for directions from one of the women womanning a computer next to a gate, but all she got for her trouble was a blank stare and a hiss to get out of the way.

Marian was shocked---shocked!---at such behavior from someone who worked with the public. Someone ought to turn her over their knee, she fumed. She’d been turned over a knee a time or two herself. Of course, that was an entirely different situation. she hadn’t minded it a bit; actually, she thought she could go so far as to say she’d quite enjoyed it. I suppose, she thought, everybody could use a good paddling from time to time.

She didn’t hear the man coming up behind her. She wasn’t listening for footsteps; why should she? She was in front of the snack shop in what should have been a crowded airport. There should have been lots of footsteps.

So when he put his arm around her waist and breathed, “Just come along with me, and I’ll explain everything later,” she was understandably startled.

“What?” she said and stopped walking.

He stopped, too, and put both arms around her waist. “I need you to pretend nothing out of the ordinary is happening. Pretend to know me.” He was wearing a baseball cap, and a jacket, and a white T-shirt underneath, and seemed like an ordinary fellow, except for the fact that he was so forward.

Excuse me? I think I should warn you strange men accost me at their peril.”

“What?”

“Oh, never mind. Let me go.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I can’t do that. You might blow the whole thing.” She saw him look past her head, and then his gaze darted off toward the side…….and then he tightened his arms around her waist……and kissed her.

The only excuse she could think of later for opening her mouth under his was reflex. She’d had her mouth open for one thing and another all night, and when his lips touched hers, it was just an automatic reaction. He stiffened (his whole body, not where you were thinking). He seemed startled, an unreasonable reaction considering that he started it.

He smelled really good. Really good. And he had sort of a short beard that scratched against her chin, and mmmmm, she liked that.

She put her hands up against his chest, and discovered it was big and broad. She moved to his shoulders and discovered they were big and broad, too. Mmmmmm, nice, she thought.

She loved Arthur. She did. But he’d left her….and life goes on, doesn’t it? One good quality Marian felt she had, she wasn’t one to sit around and mope. Much. Moping usually got her into trouble, like with that nasty skin-head fellow. And if you let opportunities pass you by just because they’re inconvenient….maybe they’ll stop traveling in your neighborhood. There would be nights, she was sure, when she’d miss Arthur terribly, and cry herself to sleep…….but if she was lucky, it wouldn’t be tonight.

He took a step back; Marian let him stop kissing her, put her arms around his neck, and said, in what she felt was her most alluring tone, “No, no, no……you wouldn’t want me to blow it. Would you?”

He blinked a couple times, and appeared to be thinking about that. Marian kissed him this time, and he seemed to loosen up a little. Helped a little more. More enthusiastic. Not so reserved. More continental. Not so much English, and a little more French, if you know what I mean.

He stopped once, and said, “You have something sticky on your face,”---as if she didn’t already know that. She just placed his hand somewhere else, and kissed him some more.

Crack! Zing!

“Get down!” he yelled, and pushed her to the floor.

“Ouch, you don’t have to push. Geez, all you had to do was ask.”

She saw the gun in his hand just after he threw himself down next to her. Oooo, a man with a weapon. She thought of Officer White, and felt a small pang. Old loves never die……they just…….how did that go? You just forget about them……until something reminds you…….and then you remember…….Hmmm, that wasn’t the way it went. Anyway, the memory of Officer White and his dorky haircut still caused her to shed a tear from time to time.

And what brought that up, anyway? Oh, yes, this fellow’s gun. It didn’t look like Officer White’s. This one was longer…..and fatter…..and he was waving it in front of him like he knew what to do with it…….not that Officer White didn’t…….but he wasn’t here, so……...

He grabbed her arm and pulled her with him as he crawled into the snack shop before she tangled herself up with more reminiscing. He didn’t stop until they were behind the counter. There was more intermittent gunfire, but the shots seemed to be getting farther and farther away.

“I’m sorry you had to get involved in this, ma’am,” the fine-looking man said.

“You should be. And what are we involved in?”

He pulled a wallet out of his back pocket and flipped it open. He shoved it at her for about half a second, flipped it shut again, and would have put it back in his pocket, but Marian grabbed for it.

“Just hang on—let me see that.”

It wasn’t a badge, as she was hoping; it was an ID card that said this fellow with the big broad chest was in the FBI.

“I’m Federal Agent Grant---“ he began.

“My God, look at this picture! Is this you?”

He grabbed for it; Marian held it out of his reach. “Look at all that hair! Good heavens, what were you thinking? Didn’t you know they’d take your picture for this?”

“Yeah, yeah, give it here.” And he snatched it back.

Marian stole the cap off his head while he was putting his wallet away.

“Hey!”

It was disappointing; his hair looked normal. Moderately attractive, even. “At least it’s cut now,” she said. “But I wish I could have seen it before.”

“That’s an old picture,” he said. “I get lots of haircuts now. I mean……” He seemed slightly flustered for some reason. “I get my hair cut all the time. No, I mean……I get my hair cut whenever I want…….well, when I need it.”

“Uh-huh.” Marian watched in fascination as his face turned red.

“She actually does cut my hair.”

“I bet she does.”

“No, really, she has scissors….and a barber chair that reclines……”

“That must come in handy.”

“No, see, the first time I went to see her, she asked me to take off my shirt and wear a towel, and then it just……..” He stopped and frowned. “Never mind about that. I’ve got to see what’s happening out there.”

“Your hair’s a little shaggy for somebody that gets his hair cut all the time.”

He blushed again. It was cute. “She’s on vacation,” he mumbled. He cleared his throat, straightened up, and said, “I’m going out. Don’t be frightened, you’ll be all right here.”

Marian opened her mouth to tell him she would be fine, she’d just make herself an ice tea while she waited, and maybe take a little nap---and decided she’d better rethink that. This was one of those opportunities that was too good to ignore.

“Well…..I am frightened,” she said. “Really frightened. In fact, I think I’m about to become hysterical. Don’t leave me alone here all by myself. I might scream and run out into the line of fire.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be OK if you stay behind this counter.” He looked over the top of said counter.

“No, you don’t understand. I need you to make me feel better. You know? What do you suppose you could do so I’d be less frightened? Hmmmm?”

“I don’t have another gun to give you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Marian sighed. “Come down here, I’ll explain it to you.”

He frowned and crouched close to where she was sitting on the floor. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t have time to—“

“Call me Marian.” She grabbed an ear with each hand and kissed him again. Held on and kissed him until he stopped struggling and started cooperating.

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Some time later, Marian thought vaguely she heard someone talking. Zach removed his tongue from her ear, and she clearly heard, “Jesus Christ, Grant, we can’t take you anywhere, can we?”

She understood his embarrassment at being caught lying on the floor with someone when he was supposed to be shooting at someone else, even though they were both still fully dressed. OK, “fully” might be too strong a word. Mostly dressed. All right, all right, partially dressed. And his friends were standing around looking sly, so she didn’t expect much from him just now. Men are always so frightened of looking silly, or being made mock of. She wrote out her name, her phone number, her address, the library’s address, and the library’s phone on a napkin and tucked it into his pocket. She didn’t expect him to help her out, either, but she supposed she must have looked lost, because he took her arm, and walked her to the parking lot.

“Did you hurt yourself, ma’am? You seem to be limping just a little,” he said, on the way.

Back to “ma’am” again, huh? Even though they were alone.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Marian. No, I’m fine. A little residual soreness is just something that sometimes happens when you spend an entire night indulging in wild passionate sex.”

He nodded absently. Doubletake. “What?”

“You heard me. See you later, Agent Grant.”

He was standing close enough to the car that after she got in, she could only see him from about mid-chest down to his knees through the passenger window. But she didn’t need to see his face to know she’d regained his attention……..

Marian hummed a jaunty tune as she wove through traffic. Maybe the day wouldn’t be nothing but torture after all……….you never could tell what might happen at the library……..

chapter 1  chapter 2  chapter 3  chapter 4  chapter 5  chapter 6  chapter 7  chapter 8 


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