Marian
By Dreamspinner, SPUN1drs@AOL.com




      I had been surfing the web for hours, looking for a site that would
have a listing of books about sexuality after fifty.  I hadn't had much
luck, and was about to log off.  One more link, I thought.  If there's
nothing there, I'm going to quit searching for the day.  I'll get back on
line tomorrow.  When the webpage opened, I saw it.  At the bottom of the
list was a title that sounded promising-Sex at Sixty and Beyond: A
Guidebook for Sophisticated Women.  I looked at my watch-5:50 PM.  The
Library was five minutes away, providing I hit all the lights when they
were green.  I grabbed my keys and ran out the door.

      Luckily, I found a parking place right in front of the old building.
The librarian was at the door as I ran up the worn limestone steps.  She
had the key in the lock by the time I got to the top step.  "Shit!" I
exclaimed.  It was Saturday.  The prospect of having to wait two days to
get that book made me sick.  I put on my best puppy-dog expression and put
my hands together as if I were praying.  I hoped she might let me in for a
few minutes, even though it was closing time.

      The odds of her letting me in weren't good, I guessed.  Her
appearance and demeanor suggested she wouldn't make any exceptions.  Sixty
years-old-at least; gray hair in a severe, unflattering bun; a dark, baggy
pantsuit and sensible shoes.  No makeup.  She peered at me over too-large
horn-rimmed glasses and tapped her finger above the sign on the door.
"HOURS OF OPERATION: 9:00 AM - 6:00 PM, MONDAY THROUGH SATURDAY".  I
pointed to my watch and yelled, "Its 5:57!"  To my astonishment, she
unlocked the door.

      "I'm sorry sir", she began, "the library clock says six o'clock
sharp."  My heart sank.  Despite her seeming intransigence, I decided I
would try to get her to bend the rules.

      "Please, ma'am", I begged.  "I'm in the middle of writing a paper,
and I found a book I need on the internet, and if you would give me a few
minutes to see if you have it, I would appreciate it.  I just can't bear
the thought of waiting until Monday-I'm really on a roll, and."

      "OK, OK", she said, interrupting my pleas.  "C'mon in.  I know how
exciting writing can be."  She opened the door.  I took a few steps and
stopped, staring at the ceiling in amazement.  All the lights in the old
library were off.  The only source of illumination came from the skylights.
 Although I had been there many times, they had escaped my notice until
now.  To my amazement, I saw they were stained glass illustrations of
mythological figures; surprisingly muscled nymphs, satyrs, dragons, all
brightly-colored and exquisite in their execution.

      "They're beautiful, aren't they?" the librarian asked, touching me on
the arm.  I had been so captivated by the sight I hadn't noticed her
approach.  "Sometimes after I close up, I climb up on my desk, lie on my
back and stare at them" she said.  "I like to pretend I'm one of the
nymphs!" she laughed.

      "Really?" I asked.  Her revelation had taken me completely by
surprise.  She was the last person I would expect would have such a
fantasy.  I was tempted to ask her for the details, but, considering she
had done me a favor by letting me in, I thought I better get right to the
point. "The book I saw on the internet, Mrs.."

      "I'm not married", she interjected.  "Besides", she continued,
offering her hand, "I don't like formality.  My name's Marian Black.
What's yours?"

      "John Hamilton", I answered.  I gasped when I took her hand.  It was
as thick as a man's.  I swallowed hard, regained my composure and got to
the point.  "Anyway, Marian, as I was saying, I saw this title, Sex at
Sixty and Beyond: A Guidebook for Sophisticated Women, and knew it would be
a good source for the paper I'm writing for my course in Human Sexuality.
And I rushed down here in hopes you'd have it."

      "You're in luck," she said, staring at me with more than a little
interest.  "We have it.  In fact, I have it in my office."  Marian took her
horn-rimmed glasses off and folded her arms across her chest.  She tilted
her head slightly and asked, "If I might be so bold, what would be the
nature of your interest in that book, John Hamilton?"

      Quite unexpectedly, I found myself in a situation I had dreamed about
for as long as I could remember.  I loved older women-especially if they
were strong.  And, judging by the feel of Marian's hand, she was strong.
To have sex with a strong older woman, I imagined, would be wonderful.  And
to top it off, she seemed as interested as I.  But for reasons I didn't
completely understand, I vacillated, even as my ultimate fantasy stood
before me in the flesh.  Should I tell her, I wondered, I wanted that book
to nourish my fantasies, or should I play it cool, and pretend I wanted it
for strictly academic reasons?  I opted for the latter.

      "Uh," I began clumsily, "my professor kind of suggested I research
that area.its, uh, kind of a pet interest of his, I think."  My lie sounded
especially obvious, spoken as it was in front of hundreds of old books full
of truth.

      "I see", Marian said, a trace of skepticism in her voice.  "Well, as
I was saying," she continued, "I have it in my office.  C'mon, I'll get it
for you.  Follow me."  With that, she turned and strode off through the
darkening old reading room.

      Funny I didn't notice how broad her shoulders are, I thought, as I
lagged several steps behind.  Or how narrow her waist is, or how solid her
ass seems to be.  Jesus, she moves with the ease of a woman in her
thirties!

      Marian opened her office door and flipped the switch.  Light from a
green-shaded library table lamp illuminated floor-to-ceiling bookshelves,
chairs filled with books, and her desk, piled high with manuscripts.  "I
think that book you wanted is right here", she said, reaching over her
desk.  I saw the shape of her ass under her baggy pants.  It was solid.  I
wonder what she looks like naked.

      "Here it is!" she said, a bit out of breath from her stretch.  "John?
 Mr. Hamilton?"

      "Oh!  Sorry, Marian.  I guess I didn't hear you" I apologized.
"Thanks.  I appreciate it", I said, turning to the door.  "Hey!" I said
suddenly.  "Whose are these?" I asked, pointing to a set of 35 pound
Hexbells, lying in the corner.

      "They're mine" Marian said coquettishly.

      "Really?" I asked.  This is too good to be true!

      "Yeah", she said, her voice full of smoke.  "When I have a few
minutes, I come back to my office, pull down the shade, and do some sets-
curls, flies, triceps extensions, whatever.  If it's a slow day, I can
usually get in ten or fifteen sets.  Then I do a few more sets before I
leave-for good measure.  Sometimes, if it's been real slow, I spend more
time lifting than I do out at my desk.  On those days, my muscles are still
swollen when I go to bed!"

      "Really?" I asked again.  I can't believe what I'm hearing!  This
woman is the embodiment of my ultimate fantasy.

      "I have the feeling you have more than a passing interest in what I'm
saying", Marian speculated.  "Am I right, John Hamilton?"

      You'll never have this chance again.tell her everything!  "Yes,
Marian, you are right.  For as long as I can remember, older women,
especially if they're strong, have turned me on.  May I go on?" I asked.

      "Please do", she said, sitting on her desk.

      "I imagine sex with an older woman, especially a strong older woman,
would be wonderful."

      "Well, John", the librarian began.  "I'm glad you showed up when you
did.  You see", she said, slipping off her jacket, "We're a perfect match-I
adore young, strong, college-aged boys such as yourself.especially ones who
like older women."

      "Really?"  John, you have got to improve your vocabulary!

      "Yes, John, really!  And what's more, I simply adore lifting weights
with young, strong boys."  With that, Marian pulled down the shades.
"Unbutton my blouse, John", she commanded.  I did as I was told.  Her
blouse fell to the floor.  She wasn't wearing a brassiere.  I gaped.  Her
arms were as muscled as a stevedore's.  Her deltoids were as big as
grapefruit halves, and she had a six-pack.

      "Can I feel you?" I asked.

      "Let's do some sets first", she answered.  "Then you can feel to your
heart's content!  Would you like to do curls?" she asked.  The thought of
seeing her baseball-sized biceps straining was almost more than I could
bear.  My dick throbbed in anticipation.

      "Yes", I squeaked.

      "Glad you said 'yes', John, I love biceps!  I'll go first."

      Ten sets later, our arms were shaking.  On our last three sets, we
had given each other negatives, exhorting each other to do two more, then
one more rep.  My biceps were so fatigued I could hardly bend my elbows.

      "Marian", I said, "my arms are wasted."

      "Mine too" she smiled.  Rivulets of sweat ran down her ivory body.
"Can you undo my hair?" she asked seductively.  "I want to pose for you,
and I'm prettier with my hair down."

      "Yes, if I can bend my elbow!"  The length of her unbound hair
surprised me.  When I untied the black silk ribbon, her gray tresses fell
to her waist.

      "OK, John, take off your pants and have a seat behind my desk."
Marian ordered.  "Just sit back and relax."  She undid her belt and let her
trousers fall.

      The old librarian was as graceful and as muscled as a catamount.
Being watched by a young man with a hardon seemed to re-energize her.
Muscles that had been fatigued only minutes earlier seemed renewed.  Her
biceps were like river rocks, her triceps as thick as hawsers, and the
veins under her thin pale skin were as heavy as nightcrawlers.

      I felt a familiar surging in my loins.  "Marian!" I yelled, "I'm
gonna come!"

      "Not without me, you're not!" she yelled, jumping on my lap.  She
slipped my dick in her pussy and began to heave back and forth like a
bronc.  "Feel my muscles, John!" she yelled, flexing both biceps.  "Feel me
everywhere, boy!" she commanded.  Everywhere I felt was like feeling hard
rubber under silk, and the rougher I was, the more vigorously she thrust
herself on my pole-stiff dick.

      "It feels like lava is coming out my asshole, Marian", I gasped.

      With that, she froze.  Moments later, she began to shudder.  She was
coming, her hot wetness spilling out, her old librarian's pussy holding
onto my dick like a vise.  Iron strong arms squeezed me until I saw stars.


      The library clock striking eleven woke us.  Marian had fallen asleep
on my lap.  We rubbed our eyes and laughed at our awkwardness.  After a few
moments, the old librarian flexed her biceps, patted the bulging mass and
said, "John Hamilton, my muscles are a well-kept secret."  I looked at her
curiously.  "That's the way I like it.  The baggy clothes, the severe
hairstyle, horn-rimmed glasses, no makeup-that's part of the turn-on for
me.  Keeping this surprisingly muscular old body concealed from all but a
privileged few has been great fun."

      "How long have you been doing this?"

      "Over thirty years."

      "How many have there been, Marian?"

      "Oh, that's not important.  What is important, my sweet, strong
college boy, is that both of us enjoy my little secret."

      "How does it work?  Are there rules of some kind?"

      "There are.or is, would be a better way to put it."

      "Well, how many, and what are they?"

      "There's just one."  Marian said, clearly enjoying my perplexity.

      "What is it?"

      The old librarian kissed me on the forehead and laughed, "You have to
join the Book of the Month Club!"