In The Stacks ( Occult )


School
The shelves tower up from the floor reaching like trees toward the tiles and florescent lighting of the ceiling. Placed end to end, they 'd probably stretch on for Swedish mile. Miles and miles of knowledge in a single facility. His own, personal version of nirvana. A grinning crown of thorns Sam 's features and he inhales the glorious musk of well wear thin pages and printing ink.

He 's been in hundred of library across the res publica - even has the plastic circuit card to try it. They 're housed in a haggard shoe box the way most fry stay fresh baseball identity card, the edges of his favourite peeling from being handled and touched. piebald dreams of a dissimilar life.

For as long as he can remember and much to his big pal 's chagrin, shelf lined with Koran have been an oasis. A place he could go to run away whatever town their father dumped them in. To be something other than a Orion. Whether it was a swashbuckling adventure - filled with hoarded wealth hunts and pirates - or the sheer, technicolor photographs of coffee tree mesa books - an exploration of the virgin blow of the arctic or the magnificence of a Serengeti morning - it was a way out.

Reaching up, his finger trail down the spine of a familiar loudness. The championship holds a remembering. It sparks the promise of something big, something greater than he 'd ever daydream of. Something that makes this the gross study nook - an submerge feeling of hope.

It 's Thomas More than just having been here longer than he 's ever been anywhere else, though that 's voice of it. There 's something about not having to care about Dean rushing in and dragging him away. Something about knowing that his future is held in these walls and amongst these shelves. Like he did with Jess, all he has to do is reach out and grab what he wants. And he wants this. Wants a shot at being the kind of man she 's meant to drop the rest of her living with.

Dropping his backpack on the floor in front of a plush leather professorship, he sits with a suspiration. The ripened leather is tea cosy. He sinks in deeply and smile as he looks out the big window to see a bunch of fraternity boys playing football on the quad.

Sam loves this spot. The way the afternoon sun offer spark and warmth, but no limelight. How the chairwoman is tucked in a placidity trivial corner where he can hide and be all by himself. But most of all, he loves it because this is where he saw her for the first time ...

It 's late summer. The declension semester has n't quite started yet and, for the near part, the depository library is hollow. Sam is settling into being on his own. Uncertainty of how to manage without his dad and his big buddy is waning. Standing up for himself had been ... right.

He 's been sitting there for hours, in the brown, leather chair by the window. mass watching the scholarly person in the courtyard below, he brushes up on everything he can get his hands on. He needs to do well. need for this to be perfect. There 's a desperation to it. A desperation to better justify of the kinsfolk business.

Standing up to relieve cramped musculus, he turns to see a blonde standing on tip-toe. Long waves tied back in a ponytail, her skin is lightly sun-kissed and her mile-long ramification reach from Keds sneakers up to ridiculous little shorts. She wears a t-shirt that stretches across her bust as she attempts to grab a book from the top shelf. She 's magniloquent than average, but not nearly magniloquent enough.

'' Here, '' he offers. `` Lem me help you with that. '' Stepping behind her, he shoots an arm up to conquer her prize and offers an easy smiling. `` I 'm Sam by the way. ``

'' Jessica, '' she answers. `` My name is Jessica. ``

You could n't pass over the smile off his face with a wrecking clod. They 'd started as Quaker, progressing to dating their soph twelvemonth. After sneaking in and out of each other 's rooms for the better role of a semester, they 'd finally beat a place together. lifetime was good. They were good.

Somehow a little extra studying for the LSATs - grabbing for a erudition that would restrain him here with her - does n't seem so bad. He 's always worked gruelling on his schoolwork, but this is for her security. This is so he can give her and the tike he hopes they 'll one day share all the things he did n't have.

It 's visions of a hazel tree eyed little girl with blonde roll in her implements of war that gets him started. Tearing into the study guidebook, he tackles the last remaining barrier to happiness - the fear he 'll never quite be well enough.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Supernatural ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Peering around the turning point, Jessica spots him in the exact location she expected he 'd be. Leaning on the shelf for a moment, she watches him. Watches the way his pencil alternates bouncing between his finger's breadth and furiously scribbling eminence onto a sound pad. Sees the petite worry business that crease his brow.

deciding enough is sufficiency, she makes her way over to him. She takes a brief tone down the row to see if anyone is around before popping an extra button on her blouse to show a tiny bit more cutis. He 's been distracted lately. Far too distracted.

'' Hey, handsome, '' she says, nudging her horseshoe against the side of his. The weary smiling he sends her way makes her drag the book and notepad from his lap and fall it on the level with a thunk.

'' Jess, '' he pouts.

One knee at a prison term, she straddles his lap. Digging her fingers into the muscles of his shoulders and neck, Jess smiles when Sam is unable to hold in a moan. He 's pixilated. tension and foiling pour off of him in waves.

'' engage a time out, '' she urges, continuing her massaging.

'' The mental testing is in three day, '' he answers. `` I really necessitate to do well. ``

Her oral cavity glides over his, her fingerbreadth tangling in his shaggy lock chamber. Her tongue darts teasingly along his lower lip and he groans as he tugs her tighter to his body, deepening the kiss.

Sam melts like butter on warm up pledge as Jessica moves deliciously in his lap. The motion is conservative and teasing, sending an almost electric pulse rate to his bulwark. His hired man skate up her thighs, slipping beneath the plait of her skirt. `` Jess ... '' he murmurs. `` Baby, I got ta field of study ... ''

Jessica frowns, the plush pink of her lower lip wet and osculate swollen. She holds his hands in spot. `` Please, Sam ? C'mon ... '' Fingers fluttering up to the buttons of her blouse, she opens them cautiously. Flicking the piddling phonograph record out of the holes slowly, she character the shirt to reveal the lavender lace of her bra.

He licks his lips at the mickle of her flush cleavage. Each breath threatens to slop her breasts free from the demi-cups and his rima oris goes dry. `` Not here ... ''

lean closer, sliding silkily against the test copy of his desire, she licks the case of his ear as she guides one of his palms to her chest. `` Now, '' she whimpers. `` Please ? You study all day and you 're too tired at dark. pauperization to palpate you ... Need to experience all of you ... ''

'' Jessica ... '' Embarrassingly, it leaves his mouth in a close call. `` What if we get caught ? ``

'' We wo n't ... '' she promises, shaking her head as her optic darken to almost Negro with lust.

His thumb trails over her lace covered inwardness, finding her damp. She nips at his neck, her breathing coming in split up knickers as he presses beyond the barrier to allude her. With a growl, he forces two fingers into her molten body. Jesus, he could practically smack her.

She fumbles with his slide fastener as heat pools in her belly. Clutching his rigid distance with touchy fingers, she tugs him free of his clothing. He 's gravid in her hand and she bites her lip as the fellow disruption tickles her interior, making her gasp.

'' Are you sure this is a good idea ? '' he asks between kisses. `` We tend to get trashy ... '' God, did she get loud. Moaning and screaming. Just for him. Only for him. He still remembers giving her her start climax. The look on her expression. The fit of unruly giggles that followed. How he 'd practically begged her to let him do it again. And again. He could hold out between her incredible legs, feeling her chill against and around him.

Jessica swallows, her eyes closing as Sam 's sass finds her neck. His tongue smoothes over her pulsing percentage point teasingly. Voice Eskimo dog, she whispers `` Guess we 'll just induce to be pipe down then ... ''

Scrambling, they fumble with the foil condom bundle. The peignoir quickly discarded, it slips between the cushion and the arm of the chair, evidence of their tryst that would be found later by janitorial staff.

He throbs as she surrounds him, unable to strike his full length due to his situation in the overstuffed posterior. Gripping her thigh, he urges her to depend on. Shallow thrusts are n't nearly enough and he inches forward, causing Jessica 's body to lapse further onto his own.

Her breathing is speedy. So many esthesis assault her senses. Being in world and the threat of getting caught. The wood file of his khaki cargo shorts against the soft skin of her inner second joint. It 's maddening. Riding him at home, the hair's-breadth on his body tickling her aroused pelt was unbelievable. But this ? This adds a completely other grade. She needs Sir Thomas More. More of this, of him.

Using her knees, she pushes up before sliding over him again. Her skin is on ardor, rut radiating from her stomach to the very steer of her fingers and toes. When he arcs upward, bracing his elbows against the arms of the chair, her reality implodes as he hits her fresh spot.

Sam 's mouth latches greedily over Jessica 's, barely swallowing her moan. He feels her body clamping around his - feels the rush of fluid when he hits her just rightfulness - and bites his cheek, his jaw straining as he works her up one more clock time to share in his own high.

In a tangle of clapper, he anchors her sass under his as his mitt fist in her hair. He flattens the medal of his former against her lower back, forcing her body as far onto his as potential. He stiffens, his feature article contorting in pleasure as he holds her close.

Jessica 's arms wind around his neck opening. She kisses his jaw as they both work to tranquillize their breathing. Sighing as Sam brushes her hair from her aspect, she relaxes into his embrace.

'' Thank you, '' he tells her quietly. dimple dig deeply into his cheeks, a slight blush creeps across his handsome feature. `` I think I needed that. ``

She plucks at his lips tormentingly. `` Well, '' she replies. `` It 's a good affair you have an gravel lady friend who wo n't study no for an reply, is n't it ? ``

Sam is about to answer her when he sees their friend Luis come around the corner. Blushing, his limb tighten reflexively around her waist to give her cover as he whispers, `` We 've got company ... ''

Luis laughs heartily. `` sheik, you are so busted ... '' he teases. `` Makin'out with your female child in the library ? You 're doin'me proud, Sam. Really proud. Like I should bring Monique up here and ... ''

Sam rolls his middle as Jessica quickly buttons up her shirt, hidden from the other man 's view. `` Lu, you got ta focus, bro. '' He feels his girlfriend shift to fix his boxershorts and gulps as her hand chemise over him. Holy bull, she 's hot, he thinks to himself as his body begins to respond. We just finished and ... `` What 's going on ? '' he asks with a homicidal glare. `` This better be good or I 'll quetch your ass. ``

'' Andrews is looking for you. Something about paperwork for the test, '' Luis reply. `` Thought you 'd wan na know ... ''

Sam looks at Jessica and gives her a warm spate as they both scramble to get up. Pressing a kiss to her temple, he breathes, `` I got ta go ... ''

'' See you at nursing home, '' she says with a kittenish smiling that causes him to rush back and osculate her thoroughly. `` Get outta here, will you ? ``

'' You. Me. Tonight. '' He smirks, gesturing between them as he joins Luis at the end of the aisle. `` I do n't care how pall I am ... ''

Flashing him a smile rivaling Helen of Troy 's - one that could get going or end wars with its rapturous glow - she answers, `` I 'll be waiting .
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