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Librarian Finds Long Overdue Love Ch. 27

Kategori: Genel

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*April 8, 1989

Middle-aged and bespectacled Angelina Lione may look the part of the prim, proper and sexually repressed, buttoned-up bibliothec, but she’s most definitely NOT your father’s librarian — at least not while in a lover’s company. Blessed with a ravenous and unquenchable sexual appetite, Angelina’s orgasms are so intense that she frequently faints during the throes of passion.

While never mistaken for a perfect 10 with her large brown eyes, tucked behind oversized, Diana Prince-style eyeglass lenses, Angelina still cuts quite the desirable figure, with a fetching face always perfectly and tastefully made up, and a sleek and shapely body. Her short, black hair, speckled with gray, was cut in a chic, wedge/pixie-style, puffed and piled on the top and curled forward around the ears. Angelina’s attractive physical traits, however, always paled in comparison to her overwhelming sex appeal. Using her vast store of feminine wiles, Angelina negotiates about her lovers’ hearts, minds and bodies as deftly as she navigates the Dewey Decimal System, manipulating infatuated men for her monetary and personal gain.

High maintenance and even higher fashion, Angelina always models the latest designer threads — oftentimes accentuated by any one of her dozen pairs of high-heeled dress boots. Her sophisticated look even extends to smoking accessories. The haughty diva wouldn’t dream of smoking a cigarette if it wasn’t filtered through her long, black holder. More of a cigarette holder sucker and stroker than a smoker, Angelina seductively works the black shaft with her mouth, tongue and fingers as if it was a penis proxy; the effect that playing with the long, stiff holder has on would-be lovers is like snake charming. Under the sexy siren’s magic spell, they’re entirely at her mercy; powerless to resist the temptation to pleasure her — as if they really would.

Angelina spent her 20s and 30s as a fully-committed member of the sexual revolution of the 1960s and ’70s — bedding dozens upon dozens of men. Only when she reached age 40 did her love life settle down — for her anyway — when the lusty librarian entered into a long term, nearly exclusive, torrid affair with the principal at her school, Harry Seymour. After the forbidden relationship unceremoniously ended six years later, Angelina found herself alone at a time when many of her peers had long since settled down into blissful domestic life. A prolonged romantic dry spell followed, until a former student unexpectedly burst into her life.

Twenty-two year old Tom Bailey had been in lust with Angelina for years, drawn in classic fetish fashion to the sexy librarian’s stylish, high-heeled boots, seductive smoking and even her pretentious and snobbish personality. Over time, his feelings — like his fetishes — for the femme fatale only grew stronger, until he could no longer keep them to himself. The pair had just launched an intense, physical relationship when Harry re-entered her life. Unable to decide between the two romantic suitors, Angelina proposed a date-off — or “fuck-off” — as Tom bitterly described the arrangement.

Now, with her love life once again in full bloom, the amorous woman was in sex heaven — reliving her youth, when men practically lined up around the block to date her. Preying on the men’s sexual addiction to her, Angelina gleefully bounced between their beds for nearly a month, until Tom finally prevailed.

The love triangle finally broken, Angelina and Tom were finally free to embark on a committed, loving relationship. But the couple’s path to long-term romantic harmony was lined with a phalanx of challenges — not the least of which was familial. During their first fortnight together, Tom met Angelina’s family — and had been unnerved by her brutish and overprotective brother-in-law.

It was a couple months into their relationship before Tom worked up the nerve to introduce Angelina to his folks. The encounter set off a tremor that was bound to trigger aftershocks along the fault line of their courtship. The meeting with what turned out to be an old work adversary so unnerved Tom’s mother, in fact, that she subsequently resumed a long dormant smoking habit.

That introduction went poorly enough, but how would Tom’s college friends react to seeing him with a much older woman? What would be their impression of her? What would he see in her? Sure Angelina was attractive enough — but she was an attractive older woman. Why would young Tom be interested in a 50 year old, when there were plenty of lovely ladies his own age available? And when they got a whiff of her pompous and bitchy personality, they’d really question what was in this relationship for Tom, and the age difference would be even more pronounced. The very real possibility existed that they’d disapprove of this affair, judging Tom a weirdo and mere boy toy to Angelina’s dirty old woman.

Private by nature — and especially embarrassed to confide in anyone about his smoking and boot fetishes — how could Tom Demetevler Escort possibly explain to them that Angelina embodied all that he found physically alluring in a woman? How every time he saw the bitchy diva smoking from a cigarette holder or strutting about in a pair of delicious, high-heeled, knee-high leather boots it made his dick dance and pulsate with delight. Or that when he and this MILF-before-the-term-was-coined made love it brought him to heights of pleasure he never dreamed possible.

For a year, the pair engaged in an intense physical relationship, characterized by daily bouts of uninhibited, care-free sex and yet somehow devoid — at least in Tom’s viewpoint — of satisfactory emotional intimacy.

Finally after a year of “dating,” the two professed their love for each other and subsequently became engaged to be married. Still, their future seemed as romantically dysfunctional and clouded as their present. In part due to questions surrounding whether or not Angelina was capable of curbing her sexual enthusiasm.

For even while dating her confessed greatest lover, Harry, Angelina engaged in several dalliances with other men. Would the mere presence of an engagement ring on her finger be enough to stop a lifetime of promiscuity. It certainly didn’t deter her at her bachelorette party. Certainly if she were to sustain a long and healthy marriage, such party-girl misbehavior would not be permissible. At long last, can this cougar finally change her stripes and commit to a monogamous relationship with someone, ideally, her fiancé, Tom?

Al and Ann Bailey sat in their car in a far corner of the otherwise empty parking lot of St. Peter’s Roman Catholic Church in Cromwell, N.J. as if they were on a police stakeout. The wedding of their youngest son, Tom, wasn’t for another two hours, but they weren’t there that early to get a choice parking spot.

“I think this is a good thing you’re doing,” Al said reassuringly to his wife.

“Maybe,” Ann answered anxiously, before lighting her second More cigarette since the couple arrived at the church 10 minutes prior. “I wish she would get here already, though. The longer the wait, the less sure I want to go through with this.”

“No, you should. It’ll be good for everyone, especially, Tom, if you made peace with Angelina before they got married. I know he was glad to hear you wanted to do it.”

“I don’t think I had any choice. The last thing I want is to have my personal feelings about her drive a wedge between he and I. But I still don’t have any faith in this marriage. It’s a huge mistake, Al. Even if I didn’t have doubts about Angelina’s character, Tom’s way too young for her.”

“Well, look at the brightside. Even if this marriage doesn’t work out, he can still learn a lot from it. An experienced woman like Angelina knows what she wants and doesn’t want from a man. Figuring out how to please a woman is not such a terrible lesson for him to learn.”

At that moment, another car pulled into the church parking lot and parked in a space next to the building. From some 50 yards away Al and Ann watched their future daughter-in-law, along with her mother, sister, Elaine, and niece, Lisa, retrieve what appeared to be three neatly packed gowns from the trunk and enter the church.

Al drove up to the entrance and re-parked the car.

“Ready?” he asked his wife.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Ann said, taking one last drag of her half-smoked More before stubbing it out in the car’s ashtray. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck. Maybe you two will even be friends after this.”

“Don’t press your luck. Settle for civility.”

Al gave his wife a quick kiss on the lips, before she exited the vehicle. Climbing the 15 or so steps into the church, Ann walked to a set of double doors on the opposite end of the altar.

“Ann…hi,” Elaine said, the tone of her voice matching the surprised look on her face, upon encountering her sister’s future mother-in-law.

“Hi, Elaine,” Ann said tentatively. “Think I could have a word with Angelina while she’s getting ready?”

“Yeah, sure. She’s in that room over there.”

Ann nodded her thanks and followed Elaine’s finger point to the church’s dressing room. There, Angelina stood with her back toward the door, arranging various cosmetics on the vanity before the lightbulb-ringed makeup mirror. Ann paused and took a deep breath to relax herself.

“Ann?” Angelina asked, her eye catching the woman in the mirror who had suddenly appeared in the doorway behind her.

“Good morning, Angelina,” Ann said. “May I come in for a moment?”

“Of course.”

“I know you’re getting ready, so I won’t take up much of your time, but I thought it best to get a few things off my chest before the ceremony.”

“Okay. Please, sit down, darrhhling.”

Ann took a seat on one of the two chairs set up before the mirror, while Angelina sat in the other.

“That’s a beautiful top,” Ann said, Otele gelen escort trying to make small talk by commenting on Angelina’s leotard-style V-neck. “Is it new?

“Why, yes, it is,” Angelina replied. “I bought it just last month at Bloomingdale’s. Molto costoso.”

“What does that mean?”

“That’s Italian for ‘very expensive,’ darrhhling.”

God, she’s so arrogant, Ann thought to herself.

“Oh. Are those boots new, too?” Ann continued.

Angelina crossed the left leg of her black jeans over her right, then flexed her foot at the ankle to admire the hard, yet wrinkled leather of the matching-colored 3.5″ spiked knee-high boots that were tucked into them.

“These? Oh, heavens no. I’ve had these boots for ages,” she said. “They’re my favorites, though. So chic and sexy, don’t you think, darrhhling?”

“Yes. You have such great fashion sense,” Ann said, resisting the temptation to punch the conceited woman in the face. “Even when you’re casual, you manage to be stylish.”

The cool and calm Angelina smiled, sadistically enjoying how uncomfortable her adversary seemed to become with every obviously forced compliment she paid. The librarian hesitated for a second before responding, hoping to draw out the tension in the room even further.

“Thank you, darrhhling,” she said. “Is my fashion sense what you came here to get off your chest?”

“No…I…uhhh…,” Ann said, struggling to collect her thoughts. “Listen, Angelina. I know it’s no secret that I’ve never been in favor of you and Tom’s relationship, given the age difference and our history together at Seton Hall. But this is your wedding day, so it’s about time I accepted it. I don’t want there to be any tension between you, me and Tom from now on. My relationship with him is too important to me. So, I wanted to come and tell you that before you marry him, that I’m going to do my best from now on to be the best mother-in-law I can possibly be. Well, that’s all I had to say.”

“Why, thank you, Ann, darrhhling,” Angelina said. “I forgive you.”

“But I wasn’t asking for for…”

“And I want you to know that I adore Thomas so. I really do. He’s so gallant and attentive to all my needs. He’s going to be a perfectly charming husband.”

“Well, I’d better let you get ready,” said a discouraged Ann, rising from her chair, amazed that her heartfelt speech didn’t seem to have any effect on Angelina. “Oh, wait. I almost forgot. As you know, it’s tradition for the bride to wear something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue, so I brought you this.”

Ann opened her pocketbook and removed a white sapphire sterling silver necklace.

“I’d like you to wear this today as your ‘something borrowed,'” Ann said, holding it out to Angelina. “I wore it at my wedding and I lent it to Janet when she married Neil.”

“Oh, Ann, darrhhling, I’m so touched,” Angelina said, as she fanned her face with her hand. “It’s not as big as the necklace I intended to wear but it’s very cute. So divine.”

How does she manage to sound insulting and snobbish even when she’s grateful? Ann wondered.

Ann’s selfless gesture, though, triggered a hug of thanks from Angelina. Remarkably, the first physical contact the two had shared since Tom began dating her some 18 months earlier.

“Let’s see how it will go with my gown,” Angelina said, breaking the hug seconds later to rush to the closet and hold the jewelry up to her suspended wedding dress. “They don’t clash much at all.”

“No, they don’t,” Ann said, suppressing the urge to respond to another insult with a question on how the notoriously promiscuous woman could have the nerve to wear white at her wedding.

“I think this calls for a toast. Oh…but I don’t think there’s anything to drink in here. Hey, I know. Would you like to share a cigarette with me?”

I thought she’d never ask, Ann sighed to herself, desperate to smoke yet another More.

By the time Angelina had fixed a Misty 120 into her long black cigarette holder, Ann had puffed nearly one-third of her More away.

“May I have a light, please?” Angelina, ever the pampered and entitled princess, asked.

Ann subtly rolled her eyes, so Angelina wouldn’t see, then re-ignited the lighter she had just placed back in her pocketbook. Angelina placed the holder’s mouthpiece between her lips, allowed the end of the Misty to connect with the flame, then drew the smoke into her lungs. Removing the holder from her mouth — with a small tail of smoke flowing from the moist mouthpiece — Angelina exhaled softly but purposefully, like the confident smoker she was. For the next few minutes, the ladies smoked in silence, lost in their own thoughts. When they’d finished smoking, the pair parted with Angelina sending Ann on her way with a pretentious-as-hell air kiss.

Didn’t think it was possible, but I think I hate her more now than I did before I extended her the olive branch, Ann said Balgat Escort to herself as she made her way out of the dressing room. Before exiting the church, the devout Catholic stopped at the altar and lit a candle for Tom. Then, for extra-good measure, she ducked into the second pew, took a seat and bowed her head in prayer. Opening her eyes upon finishing praying, Ann caught sight in her peripheral vision of a dark figure at the opposite end of the pew. Turning her head toward it, she recognized it as Sophia, Angelina’s mother. As the two locked eyes, the somber-looking Sophia made the sign of the cross on her chest and face then bowed her head to pray.


At 1:45 p.m., Tom and his brother, Neil, stood in the wing to the left of the altar watching the 100 or so guests, including some of their old teachers, file into the church and take their seats in the pews.

“Want a hit of this?” Neil asked his younger brother, removing a flask from the inside pocket of his black tuxedo.

“Nahhh…don’t need it,” Tom answered, waiving the whiskey off.

“Not nervous at all?”

“Nope. I feel great.”

“You should feel good. You beat a lotta long odds to get to this day.”

“This is the best day of my life. How many guys can say they’re marrying their fantasy?”

“Fantasy?! I knew she was your big crush, but ‘fantasy?!'”

“Yeah, fantasy. She’s always been my ideal woman. You said yourself Angelina’s hot.”

“She’s definitely hot — even for her age, but…”

“But, what?”

“Just with all the young chicks to drool over when you hit puberty, I’m amazed Ms. Lione was the one you fantasized over for so long. She’s from mom’s generation.”

The remark seemed to catch Tom off guard. Unable to respond, he could only look down at his black shoes.

Sensing he’d said too much and not wanting to risk upsetting his brother, Neil gave Tom a quick pat on the back and hustled to the back of the church where he met up with the rest of the wedding party. There, the groomsmen and bridesmaids matched up — Angelina’s friend and co-worker, Mrs. Allum, with Tom’s roommate, Paul; Angelina’s niece and nephew, Lisa and Tom; and maid of honor, Elaine, took bestman Neil’s arm and was escorted up the aisle. Finally, Tom’s eight-year-old nephew and ringbearer, Brian, belying his impish nature in a smart-looking bowtie and jacket, walked up the aisle — carefully balancing Angelina’s gold wedding band on a burgundy-colored pillow.

Waiting for them was Tom, who’d entered from the side of the altar. When the wedding party had taken their places on either side of the altar, the organist began playing the first notes of “Here Comes the Bride.” Immediately, the guests rose as one from their pews and looked to the end of the aisle, where Angelina — wearing Ann’s sapphire necklace — stood looking cool and sexy, next to her uncle Frank.

Tom, seeing his bride-to-be for the first time in her wedding dress, couldn’t believe his eyes. Tapered at her curvy waist, the sexy backless, white lace gown that plunged to the small of her back had a slit in the front, starting from the midpoint of her right thigh, exposing her shapely leg and stiletto, white satin ankle strap pump. No hair on Angelina’s head was out of place and her face was impeccably made up. Devoid of boots and cigarette holder — the signature items that long ago sparked Tom’s fetishes and attraction to the librarian — Angelina was stunningly glamorous and beautiful for a 53-year-old woman. She had pulled out all the stops to ensure being the center of attention on this, her special day.

I don’t care if she’s is as old as my mom, Tom thought to himself. I’m in absolute fuckin’ awe of her.

Angelina crooked her white elbow-length-gloved left arm inside her uncle’s and slowly walked up the aisle, soaking up the attention from guests who were in awe of her breathtaking appearance. The pair timed their walk perfectly, reaching the top of the altar just as the music ended. Uncle Frank then gave his niece a kiss on the cheek and handed Angelina over to Tom.

“Dearly beloved,” began Fr. Spina, the ceremony’s officiant and longtime Lione family priest for weddings, funerals and baptisms, “we are gathered together here in the sight of God to join together Thomas Gerald Bailey and Angelina Maria Lione in holy matrimony.”

Following scripture readings from Elaine and Lisa, Fr. Spina continued with the tradional Catholic wedding script before coming to the vows.

“Thomas, repeat after me,” the priest instructed. “I, Thomas.”

“I, Thomas,” said the young man, tears in his eyes, now facing Angelina, as the two held hands.

“Take you, Angelina.”

“Take you, Angelina.”

“For my lawful wedded wife.”

“For my lawful wedded wife.”

“I promise to be true to you in good times and bad.”

“I promise to be true to you in good times and bad.”

“In sickness and health.”

“In sickness and health.”

“I will love you and I will honor you.”

“I will love you and I will honor you.”

“All the days of my life.”

“All the days of my life.”

Fr. Spina then turned to Angelina.

“Angelina, repeat after me,” the priest said. “I, Angelina.”

“I, Angelina,” said the woman, holding her emotions in check, even though, after many decades of dating, she thought this day would never come.

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