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Library Lookout

3614 Words | 0 |3.00

I was there, doing some research in the Reference section, when some boys came in, and started looking up dirty pictures on the computers.

They only had an hour, I guess, but they sat down right next to each other. Now, the Reference book shelves have these roofs over them, with gutters to put books up on to read. Because you can’t check them out, but you can take them over to one of the chairs, and read them. I didn’t find the exact word I was looking for. So, I got up, to put it back, and that’s when I saw them.

Looking back and forth at each other’s screens, and somehow, they found a way to get past the Library’s filter. They kept their voices down, but laughed, so when I put the book back, I walked quietly around the shelves to get closer.

I just picked up a random book, and set it down. Careful not to drop it, with a loud thump. I didn’t care what it was, nor even look at the cover. Just spread it out, as if I was reading, and kept my head down, my eyes up under my hair.

“Check out this one.”

“Huge!” The other one shook his head. “If you have to push them out of the way, they’re way too big.”

“She can suck her own nipples, though.” The first boy clicked back, and then on another image. “And they’re big enough to fuck.” You couldn’t barely even see the penis, squished between them, but the head stuck out the top. I felt my chest, knowing that I wasn’t even close to busty enough, to even squeeze them together, and make cleavage.

“Check out these nice little handfuls.” The other boy ground a different girl up, and she wasn’t nearly as well endowed. His friend barely even looked, he liked big ones, but the other boy, he had more reasonable expectations, and I didn’t recognize them. Either of them, but I guess they looked about 13.

Maybe 14, and freshmen in high school, or maybe even 12 year old 7th graders, and just a little ahead of their class. I couldn’t see the front of their pants, but I bet they had erections. Why else would they be in here, looking at dirty pictures of naked ladies having sex?

“What’s with you, and skinny little spinners, anyways?”

“Well, what’s with you and married moms, then? You know you don’t have a shot with them, any of them.”

“Oh, like you have a shot at any girls that look like that.”

“Well,” he clicked around, on the big page, with lots of thumbnails of girls. I guess, I’m not really an expert on internet porn. Honestly, I came here for the books, because they only let you have 1 hour, but I can spend all afternoon with the books. I’d already checked out all the ones that interested me, which was why I was down to the reference section. I can’t check those out, but even I know that you have to be at least 18 to take pictures of yourself. Naked, and having sex, on the internet. “She sure doesn’t look 18.”

“Pedo child molester.”


“Well, who did you molest?”

“No one?”

“Then you’re still a virgin too.”

“Sh, shut up, before the librarian kicks us out for arguing.”

They went back to their computers for a while, nudging each other with their elbows, but you know what boys like? To look at, to get horny. Well, they couldn’t be more different. For example, big boobs boy also liked big butts, and guys sticking it in their butts. His friend, I don’t know about him.

He clicked on this one girl, holding her bra up, in her underwear, but then she pulled, and he went back. Shaking his head when he saw her pubic hair, and I felt mine, without even touching it. As if it was trying to stand on end, but being curly, it just puffed out the crotch of my underpants, then he found another girl.

This one didn’t have any pubic hair, so you could really see her labia, and even a little of her inner folds peeking out between them. He shook his head, and went back, clicking on another girl, and another. This one had an ear-ring in top, and that made me uncomfortable, just thinking about it.

I remember getting my ears pierced, and I’m not a big fan of needles. In general, but he didn’t like that one, either. He barely even looked at their boobs, or the photos that showed their breasts at all. I think his friend was right, he was looking for a little girl, or a legal teenager that looked, enough like a little girl, and I’m.

Barely turned 11. In 5th grade, and though I had started puberty, I wasn’t all that far along. I saw the girl with the jewelry in her clitoris, when he clicked back. She looked Oriental, but either really tanned, or just darker skinned than most Chinese, Japanese, or Korean girls, but she also had a kind of African nose?

I don’t know, but the first photo on the page was just a closeup of her face. Grinning wide, and squinting, to make her eyes look even more Asian, but she had a name. Kitty Jung, which is weird. Picking a Swiss name like Karl Yung, when she’s obviously Asian, or Phillipina, but I got it, right away.

Kiddy Young. He was looking for childporn, or at least legal teenagers that looked like little girls, because in the picture right next to it, she showed her body, and she looked even younger than me. Almost no hips, and nothing in her top. I don’t even know why she bothered with a bra, but he stayed on her page, anyway. Clicked on her with a toy penis in her mouth, fingering in her panties, and then even bent over with it stuck up inside her, but so you couldn’t see her belly button, or her clitoris, with the piercings, and the jewelry in them.

Huh, the other boy really liked butt fucking. I’m sorry, but there’s no other word for it, would you prefer sodomy, anal sex? I tried to avoid, even thinking in such vulgar language, but let’s be honest. It was dirty, profane, and maybe even a little humiliating? I don’t know if it was a good idea, to follow them. In fact, I’m pretty sure that I should have known better, since one of them seemed to like humiliating, and even hurting women.

Older women, like moms’ ages. Not just my mom, but probably his mom’s too? I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t really consider myself an expert on abnormal psychology. Just because I like to read Freud, Skinner, of course, Jung. Archetypes, is what he called it, though.

One seems to want the girl next door, while the other seems to have, Oedipal desires? That’s got to hurt, though. Maybe not as much as sticking needles in your nipples, navel, or. Even worse. I know, that’s really got to hurt, but why would somebody do that, and what if they severed a nerve, by accident? Not only would that really hurt, but then you’d lose all those nerve endings, and any sensitivity in that whole. Area, isn’t that kind of the point?

Stimulation, and response? I’m trying to rationalize this, fascination, for bad boys. After the fact, I didn’t think of them as the Bad Boy Archetype, at the time. Even though they were doing bad things, like hacking the public library computers, to look up pornographic pictures, under age, and in public where anybody could just walk bye, and see them.

Like me, trying to process the response to that stimulus. It’s childish, desiring that kind of attention, from those kinds of boys. The anal sadist, and the pedophile. The wannabe child molestor, but seeing what he wanted, and what he judged not good enough. It made me self conscious of what I had grown.

My pubic hair, and remembering how scared I was, the last time I shaved. My legs, honestly every time, since the first time I shaved up to the top of my legs, between them, and I got to the creases. The loose folds of flesh, and stopped, afraid that I would cut them, and anticipating the pain until my hands shook too much to go any farther.

Then, their hour was up, the Internet shut down automatically, and the prompt came up to tell them it was time. So, I picked up the book, and closed it quietly. Ducked down behind the bookcase to hide while they got up, and went off to the boy’s room. Put the book away, and followed them.

Knowing it was a bad idea, and even imagining all the terrible things I was risking. The things that they could do to me, holding my mouth shut so I couldn’t scream, and choking me like that one lady with the black men. I tried not to look, as soon as I saw his dark fingers squeezed tight around her throat, but the look on her face was so. Confusing, she loved it, I could tell.

He switched back to pick another picture, and clicked on one with both of them inside her. Front and back, but I saw another one before he did. A bare foot, pushing her face down in the couch cushions, and holding an enormous erection in his hand. Ready to plunge it in her behind. From behind, and even though you couldn’t tell, where it was going, the next picture told the tail. (So to speak.)

Not just 1, but 2, in both holes, so obviously, she liked that too. Even though it had to hurt, I bet she liked that, because it hurt. Maybe that Kitty Jung got started cutting herself, before she was old enough to go to the tattoo shop, only she didn’t get tattoos. They do piercings there too, but I’d think that if she liked needles so much, she’d want to get a tattoo. Because that’s done with needles, and even a machine, like a vibrator.

Thing is, I didn’t know what I liked, not really. I was starting to think that I was attracted to insanity, and that’s why I’d been reading up on psychology all those years? I still don’t know, to this very day what it is, but it wasn’t the pictures of naked women, and girls that had such an effect on me.

It was the boys, looking at them, and the sick things that they wanted to look at. Rough interracial sex, and older women with big milkbags. Stretched out nipples, or in a word, Mothers. Practically being raped, but loving it, and his friend looking for child porn, but obviously frustrated that he couldn’t find it. Little girls, even younger than me, or at least settling for teenagers that look younger. (If you ignore the obvious piercings, which you have to be 18 to get, too.)

“Huh!” I stopped at the door to the Boy’s room. The bathroom, and I hadn’t done anything, that bad. Not yet, I almost knocked, and then realized that was a silly thing to do, but I couldn’t see anything from the hall. Which means nobody was looking at the hall to the restrooms, so I took a deep breath, and pushed the door to slip quietly inside.

“Hhuh!” I heard them breathing, their excited breaths, echoing from the stalls. Just 3 stalls, but the one right next to the urinals was empty. One was in the handicapped stall, all the way in the corner, while the other was right next to him. With his pants down, and even quietly slapping, something.

Rhythmically, but not too loud. Too hard, and for a moment, I thought he might be spanking himself? Not sitting down he wasn’t, so I reached up, and gently knocked.

“Huh?” They both stopped. “Somebody’s in here.”

“I know, what you’re doing in there, you sick perverts. You think nobody saw you looking up pornographic pictures on the library computers, and how did you even hack them, so you could do that?”

“You don’t have to hack them.” He stoop up, and pulled the latch loudly, so I backed up to the sink. Shaking my head, and even thought about running, but then he pulled it open, and there he was. With his pants down, and his shirt poking out with his erection. “You just have to find sites they don’t know about yet.”

The Handicap stall cracked open, and the other boy peeked out, with one eye. I didn’t really look at their shoes, for once. It’s pretty natural for a girl to look at someone’s shoes, to see what she can tell about them, just by what they chose to put on their feet. That’s nothing compared with what kinds of porn they like to look at, but they both wore athletic shoes. Don’t ask me what sport, or what differentiates basketball shoes from football shoes.

“You’re not going to tell the librarian on us?” The pedophile, sounded shy, and scared, of me?

“Of course she isn’t going to tell on us.” The sadist pulled his shirt up. “Right? This is what you came in here to see. Isn’t it, slut?”

“Huh, I’m not. A slut, I’m a virgin. I don’t want to give up my virginity, I’m eleven, and I’m too young for that, so please don’t hurt me?”

I didn’t know what else to say, I was scared, but he got one thing right. I wanted to see his penis, and even what I would do with them. Both of them, or what they’d make me do. For on me, and into me, even where.

“You like what you see?” I nodded, but he had his shirt up, over his face.

“Huh, yes. Uh, maybe.” I looked over at his friend, who opened the door wide enough to see his eyes wide open, his mouth too. The look of lust on his face, and the feelings of. Relief Mutual attraction, willingness to be molested, despite knowing what he was, and the kind of boy he hung out with. “Uh, maybe. There’s enough room for all 3 of us, in there.” I just pointed. “Let me in.” I looked back, but his friend just hobbled over, holding his shirt, and swinging back and forth with his pants still down over his shoes.

He locked the door behind me, and I backed into the corner. “Huh, you better pull your pants back down too.” He looked over at his friend, who nodded. Stroking his erection, with 3 fingers, and his thumb, but not hard enough to make any loud slapping noises. “Hhuh!” I shivered, and shook my head. “Now, I’m going to start, taking my clothes off too, but you have to promise me. You won’t try to hurt me, or do anything. Make me do anything, I don’t want to.”

Rationally, in my mind, I knew wouldn’t be a good idea. I could get pregnant, they could be diseased, and any moment, they could turn violent. In my heart, and especially deeper down in my body, I irrationally wanted all those things, even the scarier ones felt somehow even more exciting. Especially the sadistic one, I knew that he wanted to look at black men, forcing themselves on that older woman, because they had such immense erections, but at least, I didn’t have that to worry about.

“Huh!” I stood there, in my shoes, socks, underpants, training bra, glasses, and a hair tie. “I know, I probably look a little too old, and developed for you. What’s your name?” I reached out, and my hand was shaking almost as hard as if I had just shaved my legs, and gotten scared that I’d cut myself, but I touched it. “Huh, it’s so hard.”

“I’m Gabe.” His friend came up behind me, and grabbed me. Held me close, and bent his legs, to press his erection hard into the seat of my underpants. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. Relax.” Right by my ear, but my fear, that he was going to get rough, force himself into my rear end, buttfuck me, and rape me, until I screamed for more turned into excitement.

So, I let go of his friend’s penis, and balls. Reached up, and felt his arms. “Huh, I know I’m not old, and buxom enough for you.” Pulling them down to my chest. “Uhn!” My head went back, and my eyes closed, as soon as his strong fingers tightened over my breasts.

“Nice little handfulls.” He started humping, pressing my underwear between my buttocks, and rubbing his erection hard. “Huhuh, I see why you like them, little spinners.”

“Uh!” I tried shaking my head, but just rolled my hair back and forth on his shoulder. “Why, sip?” I’m drooling? “Why do you call girls that? Spinners?”

“Because you can make them hold their legs, and slap them so they spin around on your cock, huh! Uh FUCK!” His profanity echoed in the tight space. “Uhuhuh fuck. Huh!” He practically whispered. “Uh fuck. Nice tight ass huh!”

He let go, and his fingers went weak, at the moment of his orgasm, but he just leaned back, and sat on the wheelchair bar. In the corner, that they left wide open to park a wheel chair, he’d gone soft, and dangled. Wrinkling, and shriveling up, a drop fell between his legs, and I felt back.

My back, and the wet seat of my underpants, I shook my head, but his friend just stood there. Holding both hands over his privates. “Uh, can you leave me alone with her now?”

“Whooh!” He grinned, and bent down to pull up his pants. “Huh, yeah. Fuck, yeah.” He patted my butt on the way bye, then went to wash his hands in the sink.

“Um, what’s your name?”

“Minerva, what’s your’s?”

“Phil uh. Philbert.” The bathroom door finally closed, so he could stop covering his privates. “No, you’re not too old, or developed. Uh, I’m not, a child molester.” He pulled his pants up. “You’re really eleven?”

“Yes, I’m really eleven, should I.” Looking around, “Put my clothes back on?”

“Huh, yeah. Sorry, but I’d rather get to know you first, if that’s okay?” He winced.

“Oh, no. That’s perfect, honestly. I’d like to get to know you too. You prefer Phil, or Bert?”

“Either or.”

“Phil then. Uh!” I squirmed, and pulled my top out, but it still stuck to my back. “Huh, you know, I never was able to shave, my pubic hairs?”

“No? Why, would you want to?”

“You like shaved girls, don’t you?”

He shrugged, “Either way, you mean on the internet? Yeah, that’s just so I can see better, just like naked girls. You look just fine with your clothes on too. Very pretty, but.”

“Thanks, you want to kiss me, or something?” I don’t know what to feel. He wants to be friends? He doesn’t want to help me shave my pubic area, so he can touch me, and make me feel what it’s like to be molested by a pedophile?

Okay, he’s not a terrific liar. Kisser either, but I have to think that he’s the kind of sexual predator that likes to, you know. Get a job at an elementary school, or marry a divorcee, with kids, and play daddy with them. A priest, or just a creepy uncle that comes over to spend way too much time with his nieces.

Oh right, a preferential pedophile. It took me a minute, and I just skipped past the whole grooming part of the relationship, but it’s too late now. I’m horny, and I know what I want. I think, I don’t know what I’ll like, but I’m willing to take the risk of being hurt, even raped, murdered, and killed to find out, but I want him to make me, and I’m willing to wait.

“You like to read?” I took his hand on the way out of the library.

“Yeah sure.”

“Huh, if you’re going to lie to me, at least try to be a little more convincing?”

“Okay, not really.”

“Well, I’ve got some books at home, I’d really like to read to you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, but you’ll have to wait, while I go in and get them. Take a shower to wash Gabe’s semen off my back, and change into some clean clothes, but what would you like me to wear?” I’m never washing those underwear.

“You really can’t shave, your Beaver?”

“Huh, no. I really can’t. For one thing, I can’t really see what I’m doing. It’s awkward, my leg gets in the way, and for another, I’m just scared I might cut myself. So, why don’t you do me a favor?”

“What’s that?”

“You shaved your balls, right?” Not recently, they had stubble all over them, and razor rash up front, like acne.


“Well, we’ll have to find someplace, maybe another restroom where you can shave my privates, but you have to promise me, you’ll be careful not to cut me.” I but my lip, and looked away. “Too bad. Ly?” Just saying that made the whole thrill wash over me, and I shivered. “Hhuh! You know what a Picarist is?”

“No idea.”

“Well, we can try that too.” Make a mental note to grab some pins, and needles, why not my whole sewing kit while I’m at it. “Be right back.” I kissed his cheek, and ran around the corner, trying to think what all I can bring, but definitely the needles.

I don’t like needles, but I have a feeling, I just might learn to love them…

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