Gia gets Caught on her knees with the maintenance man at the campus library
Hey everyone, it’s your favorite anonymous campus vixen here, spilling the tea on the hottest, most reckless mistake I’ve made this semester. My name is Gia, I’m a 20-year-old junior majoring in English Lit at a big state university, and I’ve always had a thing for forbidden thrills. You know those quiet, dusty corners of the library where the old reference books sit untouched for years? Yeah… that’s where I got caught on my knees last Thursday night, lips wrapped around the thick cock of one of the maintenance guys.
It started innocently enough. I was stressed out from midterms, wearing my favorite tiny black pleated skirt that barely covered my ass, a tight white crop top that showed off my toned midriff, and no bra because why not? My perky C-cups were begging for attention under the thin fabric, nipples already stiff from the library’s AC. I’d been flirting with Marcus for weeks. He’s in his late 30s, tall, muscular from years of hauling equipment, with strong hands, dark skin, and a deep voice that made my pussy wet every time he said my name.
He was fixing a flickering light near the back stacks on the fourth floor. Hardly anyone goes up there after 9 PM. I “accidentally” dropped my notebook right in front of him, bending over slowly so my skirt rode up, flashing the lacy black thong barely covering my smooth, shaved lips.
“Need some help, Gia?” he asked, voice low and rough.
I looked up at him through my lashes, biting my lip. “I think I need a lot of help tonight, Marcus.”
The tension had been building for too long. Within seconds he had me pinned against the shelves, his big hand sliding up my thigh, fingers brushing my soaked thong. I moaned softly as he kissed me hard, tongue invading my mouth while his other hand squeezed my tit, pinching my nipple until I gasped.
“Fuck, you’re so damn young and horny,” he growled against my neck.
I dropped to my knees right there between two rows of dusty philosophy books. The carpet was rough on my bare knees, but I didn’t care. I yanked down his work pants and boxers in one motion, and his heavy, thick cock sprang out—already rock hard, veiny, and easily eight inches with a fat mushroom head. It smelled masculine and clean, with a hint of his workday sweat that made me even wetter.
I looked up at him, eyes wide and innocent, then wrapped my soft pink lips around the head. Marcus groaned, one hand tangling in my long dark hair. I swirled my tongue around the tip, tasting the salty precum leaking from his slit, then took him deeper. My mouth stretched wide as I bobbed my head, sucking him with wet, sloppy sounds that echoed quietly in the silent library. I relaxed my throat and pushed forward until my nose pressed against his trimmed pubic hair, gagging softly but holding him there, eyes watering with lust.
“Shit, baby girl… you suck dick like a pro,” he whispered, hips rocking gently.
I hummed around his shaft, the vibration making him throb against my tongue. My hand cupped his heavy balls, massaging them while I worked him in and out of my warm, wet mouth. Spit dripped down my chin onto my cleavage. I pulled back for air, stroking his slick cock with both hands, twisting at the head the way guys love, then dove back down, fucking my face on him faster.
The risk made it so much hotter. Anyone could walk around the corner—another student cramming for finals, a librarian doing rounds. The thought sent a fresh gush of wetness into my thong. My free hand slipped under my skirt, rubbing my swollen clit in tight circles while I worshipped his cock.
Marcus was breathing hard, gripping my hair tighter. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up.”
I pulled off with a pop, strings of saliva connecting my lips to his glistening dick. “I want it,” I whispered, voice hoarse. “Cum down my throat, Marcus.”
I sucked him harder, hollowing my cheeks, taking every inch. His thighs tensed. I felt his cock swell even thicker in my mouth. Just as he started to pulse, ready to flood my throat—
“What the fuck?!”
A sharp female voice cut through the air. My heart stopped. I froze with Marcus’s cock buried deep, spit everywhere. It was Ms. Hargrove, one of the strict older librarians. She stood at the end of the aisle, eyes wide behind her glasses, staring at the obscene sight: me on my knees, skirt hiked up, hand still in my panties, mouth full of maintenance cock.
Marcus pulled out quickly, but it was too late. I stayed on my knees for a second, lips swollen and shiny, a thick strand of saliva dripping onto the floor. My face burned with humiliation… and shameful arousal. My pussy was throbbing.
Ms. Hargrove’s cheeks were flushed, but she didn’t immediately scream or call security. She just stared, her eyes flicking from my messy face to Marcus’s massive, spit-covered erection still twitching in the air.
“I… I can explain,” I stammered, voice raspy from deepthroating.
“Library is closed for this kind of activity,” she said, but her tone was breathy. She didn’t leave. Her gaze lingered on my exposed cleavage, on the way my nipples poked obviously through my top.
Marcus muttered a curse and started pulling up his pants. I stood up slowly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, legs shaky. My thong was drenched, clit aching for release.
To my shock, Ms. Hargrove stepped closer instead of running. “You two have any idea how much trouble this is?” But her eyes betrayed her—there was heat there. Maybe the uptight librarian had a hidden wild side.
I don’t know what possessed me, but I took a step toward her, still buzzing with adrenaline. “Are you going to report us?” My voice came out sultry. I was playing with fire.
She swallowed hard. Marcus stood silent, watching the strange shift.
The next ten minutes were a blur of tension and unexpected heat. Ms. Hargrove lectured us in a hushed whisper about decency while her eyes kept drifting back to the bulge in Marcus’s pants and my disheveled, slutty appearance. I apologized profusely, but made sure to “accidentally” brush my breasts against her arm while adjusting my skirt.
Eventually, she let us off with a warning—probably because she was just as turned on as we were. “Get out of here. And don’t let me catch you again.”
Marcus and I slipped out a side exit, hearts pounding. We didn’t even make it to his truck before we were all over each other in the parking lot shadows. He bent me over the hood, flipped my skirt up, yanked my thong aside, and slammed into my dripping pussy in one thrust. I cried out, gripping the cold metal as he fucked me hard and deep, his thick cock stretching me perfectly. His balls slapped against my clit with every powerful stroke.
“You almost got us expelled, you little cockslut,” he growled, spanking my ass.
I came hard around him, moaning loud enough that anyone nearby could’ve heard. He pulled out and painted my ass and back with thick ropes of cum, marking me as his.
We’ve hooked up twice since then—once in the library basement, once in his maintenance closet. Getting caught only made the kink hotter. I can’t stop thinking about Ms. Hargrove’s face… part of me wonders if she touches herself remembering it.
Moral of the story? Sometimes the quietest places on campus hide the loudest moans. If you’re reading this and you go to my school… keep an eye out for me in the stacks. I might be on my knees again.
Stay naughty,
Gia 💋