Even though she was dressed outlandishly in the Goth Style, the woman was a walking wet dream. Her boyfriend was enough to set Loretta’s prim breasts to heaving beneath the drab librarian’s clothing. His short spiked haircut and the open thin leather jacket that exposed his muscular chest made her thighs squirm together beneath the mid-length skirt she wore. Loretta looked up at the bright lights of the elevator as the two kissed passionately while the door slid closed. It was late at night and Loretta had gone to the top floor to make sure the library was cleared before finishing her lockup check sheet. The outside doors had all been locked and the security guard had already left. Loretta would have a word with him tomorrow; somehow, he had missed these two pierced and tattooed lovebirds among the stacks on the third floor. One more goof like this and she would see that he was dismissed.
Loretta’s attention returned to the Goth female. The baggy black cargo shorts she wore hung unbelievably low on her hips, the waist button falling so low that if she wasn’t obviously shaved, most of her pubic hair would be showing. She wore knee high athletic socks and old style black and white tennis shoes. She also wore an old style strappy tee-shirt that the kids these days called a wife-beater; it was old and worn thin and the woman’s perfect breasts were outlined and as visible as if she were not wearing anything at all. Her bobbed black hair was short on one side and hanging below her ear on the other. Silver rings penetrated her eyebrows, her lips and a small diamond stickpin pierced her nostril. She wore black lipstick on her wide generous mouth and a silver barbell poked through her tongue. Black nail polish glinted on the nails of her long, delicate fingers. When the woman moved, the coiled snakes on her rock hard belly and arms slithered menacingly.
The man was similarly attired, and Loretta was more than a little afraid of them. They were living lives totally disconnected from her own, and she couldn’t imagine dressing their way or having tattoos engraved on her body. Deep inside her prim and proper exterior, a part of Loretta hated them for their freedom. They were free to dress the way they wanted, go and do as they pleased with no concern about what anyone outside their small social circle thought.
Loretta had seen this same girl here earlier today with a different Goth boy, rubbing her crotch openly up and down on the erection bulging out of his shorts. Loretta had even seen the girl stick her hands down inside the other boy’s shorts, clearly stroking his cock over by the water fountain on the first floor. Loretta had been green with envy at the same time she had been repelled.
Loretta’s attention returned to the Goth female. The baggy black cargo shorts she wore hung unbelievably low on her hips, the waist button falling so low that if she wasn’t obviously shaved, most of her pubic hair would be showing. She wore knee high athletic socks and old style black and white tennis shoes. She also wore an old style strappy tee-shirt that the kids these days called a wife-beater; it was old and worn thin and the woman’s perfect breasts were outlined and as visible as if she were not wearing anything at all. Her bobbed black hair was short on one side and hanging below her ear on the other. Silver rings penetrated her eyebrows, her lips and a small diamond stickpin pierced her nostril. She wore black lipstick on her wide generous mouth and a silver barbell poked through her tongue. Black nail polish glinted on the nails of her long, delicate fingers. When the woman moved, the coiled snakes on her rock hard belly and arms slithered menacingly.
The man was similarly attired, and Loretta was more than a little afraid of them. They were living lives totally disconnected from her own, and she couldn’t imagine dressing their way or having tattoos engraved on her body. Deep inside her prim and proper exterior, a part of Loretta hated them for their freedom. They were free to dress the way they wanted, go and do as they pleased with no concern about what anyone outside their small social circle thought.
Loretta had seen this same girl here earlier today with a different Goth boy, rubbing her crotch openly up and down on the erection bulging out of his shorts. Loretta had even seen the girl stick her hands down inside the other boy’s shorts, clearly stroking his cock over by the water fountain on the first floor. Loretta had been green with envy at the same time she had been repelled.
