Cynthia Vale was twenty-three years old and looked every bit the innocent bookworm until you got her alone. She stood five-foot-four with a deceptively sweet heart-shaped face, full pink lips, and large hazel eyes behind sleek black-rimmed glasses. Her chestnut hair was usually pinned in a messy bun that begged to be pulled apart. Her body was a walking temptation: perky D-cup tits that strained against every blouse, a narrow waist, wide hips, and a plump, jiggly ass that made short skirts look obscene. She knew exactly what she had and loved using it.
By day she worked at the quiet Oakwood College Library. By night — or whenever the opportunity arose — she was an insatiable little cock-hungry slut who got wet at the thought of being used.
It was a slow Thursday evening. The library closed in thirty minutes. Only a few patrons remained, including Mr. Reynolds, a tall, married forty-two-year-old architect who had been coming in every week for the past month. Cynthia had caught him staring at her legs more than once.
She rolled her cart down the narrow stacks in the history section, deliberately wearing her tightest white button-up blouse with the top four buttons undone. Her black lace bra was clearly visible. The plaid skirt she wore barely reached mid-thigh, and her black thigh-high stockings whispered with every step.
“Mr. Reynolds?” she called softly, bending over to shelve a heavy book on the bottom shelf. Her skirt rode up high enough to show the bottom curve of her ass and the thin black thong disappearing between her cheeks. “Do you need help finding anything?”
He stepped closer. His eyes locked on her exposed flesh. “You’re teasing me again, Cynthia.”
She looked back over her shoulder, biting her lower lip. “Am I? I’m just doing my job… being a helpful little librarian.” She wiggled her ass slightly. “Unless you want something else.”
Reynolds’s hand landed on her hip. “You little slut. You’ve been flashing that cunt at me for weeks.”
Cynthia’s pussy throbbed. She straightened up slowly, pressing her back against his chest. “The library’s almost empty,” she whispered. “And I’m so fucking wet. Want to check?”
His fingers slid under her skirt immediately, pushing the thong aside. Two thick fingers plunged into her soaked hole.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re dripping.”
“Because I’ve been thinking about your married cock all afternoon,” she moaned quietly. She reached back and rubbed his hardening bulge through his pants. “Please, sir… use your slutty librarian before we close.”
He spun her around, pushed her against the shelves, and kissed her hard. Books rattled as he mauled her tits, yanking the blouse open so buttons flew. He sucked one stiff nipple into his mouth while fingering her roughly.
Cynthia whimpered, grinding on his hand. “I’m such a dirty girl. I touch myself in the staff bathroom thinking about patrons bending me over.”
Reynolds dropped to his knees, shoved her skirt up to her waist, and buried his face in her shaved pussy. He licked her clit in long strokes, then sucked it hard while finger-fucking her. Cynthia clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries as she came, thighs shaking, juices running down his chin.
She didn’t give him time to stand. Cynthia dropped to her knees on the carpet, unzipped him, and pulled out his thick seven-inch cock. It was already leaking pre-cum.
“Mmm, such a big married dick,” she purred, looking up at him through her glasses. She slapped it against her tongue, then swallowed him to the balls in one smooth motion. She bobbed her head fast, gagging wetly, spit dripping onto her tits. “Use my throat,” she gasped between slurps. “Fuck my face like the cheap whore I am.”
Reynolds grabbed her bun and thrust into her mouth. Cynthia’s eyes watered but she took it, humming around his shaft, massaging his balls until he groaned and pumped thick ropes of cum straight down her throat. She swallowed every drop, then licked him clean with a satisfied smile.
But they weren’t done.
He bent her over the study table in the back corner, flipped her skirt up, and slammed into her pussy in one hard thrust. Cynthia moaned loudly, no longer caring who might hear.
“Yes! Fuck me harder! Use this tight little cunt!”
He pounded her mercilessly, the sound of skin slapping echoing between the shelves. He pulled her hair, smacked her ass until it glowed red, and called her every filthy name she loved.
“Such a nasty librarian slut. Letting a married man raw-dog you where anyone could walk in.”
Cynthia came twice more before he flooded her pussy with a massive creampie. When he pulled out, cum dripped down her thighs onto the carpet. She scooped some up and licked it off her fingers while looking him in the eye.
“Same time next week?” she asked sweetly.
That Saturday night Cynthia had a babysitting gig for the Reynolds family.
Mrs. Reynolds was away at a conference. Mr. Reynolds had texted her earlier: Kids asleep by 9. Come ready to be used all night.
Cynthia arrived in a tiny pink tank top that barely contained her tits and tight grey booty shorts that rode up her ass. No bra. No panties. Her hair was in pigtails, glasses on, looking like the ultimate forbidden fantasy.
The moment the front door closed behind the departing parents (a different couple had dropped the kids off earlier, but Mr. Reynolds was already home), he grabbed her.
“Upstairs. Now.”
He practically carried her to the master bedroom. Cynthia giggled as he threw her on the king-sized bed.
“Mrs. Reynolds sleeps here every night,” Cynthia teased, spreading her legs. “And now you’re going to fuck your slutty babysitter on her side of the bed.”
Reynolds stripped fast. His cock was already rock hard again. He climbed on top of her, shoved her tank top up, and sucked on her tits while rubbing his cock along her dripping slit.
“Beg for it,” he growled.
“Please fuck me, Daddy,” Cynthia moaned. “I’ve been a horny little babysitter all week thinking about your cock stretching me. Fill me up where your wife can’t feel you anymore.”
He thrust in deep. Cynthia cried out in pleasure as he bottomed out inside her. He fucked her hard in missionary, then flipped her over and took her doggy style, slamming into her with long, powerful strokes. The bed creaked violently.
Cynthia’s face was buried in Mrs. Reynolds’ pillow as she screamed. “Harder! Breed your little babysitter slut! I want your cum leaking out of me when I tuck your kids in!”
He spanked her ass raw and pulled her pigtails like reins. After making her cum again, he flipped her onto her back, pushed her knees to her chest, and drove even deeper.
“I’m going to cum inside you,” he warned.
“Yes! Creampie me! Knock up your naughty babysitter!”
He roared and unloaded, pumping rope after rope of hot cum deep into her womb. Cynthia orgasmed again from the feeling, her pussy milking every drop.
They didn’t stop there.
After a short break where Cynthia sucked him back to full hardness while wearing nothing but her glasses, he took her in the shower. Then on the couch downstairs while a movie played for cover noise. Then again in the guest room.
By 2 AM Cynthia was a cum-covered mess. Her pussy was red and puffy, leaking multiple loads. She had swallowed two more and had another load drying on her tits and glasses.
Mr. Reynolds lay exhausted. Cynthia straddled his face, grinding her creampied pussy on his tongue.
“Clean your slut up, sir. Taste how much you stretched me.”
He licked her eagerly, swallowing his own cum mixed with her juices while she moaned and rubbed her clit until she came one final time.
The affair continued for weeks.
Cynthia would stay late at the library, getting fucked in every section — bent over the returns desk, riding him in the rare books room, even once in the staff bathroom with the door unlocked. She started wearing remote vibrators to work and let him control them while she helped other patrons, biting her lip to keep from moaning.
Babysitting nights grew filthier.
One evening she answered the door in nothing but an apron and high heels. She cooked dinner for the kids wearing only that, then let Mr. Reynolds fuck her on the kitchen counter after bedtime while the baby monitor sat nearby.
Another night she sent him videos all evening: fingering herself on their couch, riding a dildo in their marital bed, writing “Property of Mr. Reynolds” in lipstick above her pussy.
She loved the risk. Loved being the secret cumdump for a respectable married man.
One particularly bold night, after the kids were asleep, she wore Mrs. Reynolds’ silky red nightie. She greeted Mr. Reynolds at the door on her knees.
“Welcome home, Daddy. Your wife’s nightie feels so good on your babysitter’s skin.”
He lost control. He fucked her throat until she gagged and drooled, then bent her over the dining table and railed her so hard the furniture moved. He came inside her twice, then made her keep the nightie on while she rode him reverse cowgirl on the living room sofa, her tits bouncing wildly.
Cynthia talked dirty the entire time: “Your wife has no idea her nightie is getting soaked in babysitter pussy juice. I bet she doesn’t even suck your cock like this anymore.”
She clenched around him and milked another load from his balls, then licked him completely clean.
Eventually the thrill escalated further.
One Friday the Reynolds had a dinner party. Cynthia was hired to watch the kids upstairs. She wore a short black cocktail dress with no underwear. During the party she snuck downstairs, found Mr. Reynolds in the hallway, and pulled him into the powder room.
“Quick,” she whispered, hiking her dress up. “Fuck me while your wife and friends are ten feet away.”
He covered her mouth and pounded her standing up, her legs wrapped around him. Cynthia came so hard she nearly screamed into his palm. He filled her again, then sent her back upstairs with cum running down her legs.
Later that night, after guests left, he joined her in the guest room. They fucked for hours — slow and sensual, then rough and animalistic. He took her ass for the first time that night, easing his thick cock into her tightest hole while she moaned and rubbed her clit.
“Deeper… claim every hole your little librarian-babysitter has,” she gasped.
He came deep in her ass, then watched her push the cum out and lick it off her fingers.
Cynthia thrived on being wanted. She started picking up more babysitting gigs with other families, always scouting for attractive married dads. But Mr. Reynolds remained her favorite — the one who truly understood what a depraved little slut she was.
Some nights she would text him from the library after closing: Just fingered myself at your usual table. Come use me.
Other nights she would send him voice notes while babysitting: moaning his name as she came on a toy, begging him to come home early.
She never felt guilty. She was young, horny, and living out every filthy fantasy. Glasses-wearing, bookish Cynthia was actually the biggest cumslut in town — and she loved every second of it.
One quiet Sunday afternoon, after another long library fuck session and a promised evening babysitting gig, Cynthia sat at the front desk touching up her makeup. Her pussy still tingled from the morning creampie slowly leaking into her panties.
She smiled at the next patron who walked in — another married man who couldn’t keep his eyes off her cleavage.
“Hi,” she said sweetly, adjusting her glasses. “Let me know if you need any… special assistance.”
Her real work was never done.
