Trapped in the Stacks

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“Thanks for the heads up, have a good day.”

I stared out the third-floor window at the city starting to get covered by a blanket of snow as I hung up my phone. In my late forties with a beard gone to silver and a figure that wasn’t doing mile jogs anymore, I looked the part of the respectable library director in a brown suit. I often wondered how the kid who played in a punk band and drank pot tea ended up here. It didn’t matter right now though.

The phone call had been the city manager. The schools were going to announce that they were closing early and the city didn’t have enough salt for the roads so it was going to be bad out there. The snow was coming in faster and thicker than anyone expected and within two hours the roads would be undrivable. That was all the excuse I needed. I took a certain adolescent joy in picking the phone back up and hitting the combination of buttons necessary to be transferred to the overhead public address system throughout the library.

“Attention, please. Due to inclement weather, the library will be closing early in thirty minutes at 2 PM. Please take your materials to the front desk to checkout. Staff, initiate closing for today and all day tomorrow.”

At this point, I knew the staff would leap into action. Little motivated people like being able to get the hell out of work. That included me. In less than five minutes I saw the administration hallway start to empty. Finance was gone first, followed by IT. My circ manager was off today so it was mostly part-timers, most of whom would need to grab a bus. Grabbing my suit jacket I walked down the hall and saw Mika still in her office, shutting down her computer.



“Remember your circ training?” I had made everyone do basic training on things like checking books out.

“I think so.”

“Come on, let’s take over and let the part-timers beat it.”

“Yes, sir.” She had a soft voice, that by itself might make you think she was younger than her 29 years. But no one could doubt she was a woman when she stood up. I gave up not trying to look a long time ago and thank goodness Mika never seemed to mind. Sometimes when she wore skirts I could swear she crossed her legs just where I could see them and I did like to look. Mika filled out everything well. She was short but busty and hips made for grabbing with pale skin and long black hair. Her work clothes didn’t hide her curves no matter how loose she kept them. And then some days like today she wore pants that hugged her voluptuous ass.

Mostly she was as conservative as her dress. She was sharp, professional, sympathetic to those with problems, meticulous in keeping up with Byzantine human resources regulations. She was a pleasure to work with and if I had to do something like manage the circ desk I’d rather do it with her than some of the staff who seemed to go into public service because they hated people and wanted everyone else to be as miserable as them.

In the elevator on the way down Mika looked at me. “Letting your beard grow out?”

I ran my fingers through my salt and pepper beard. “Just haven’t trimmed it lately.”

“Looks good long.” She grinned at me. It was nice to know a younger woman wanted to flirt with me even if I was her boss. The doors opened and we put our work faces back on.

Ten minutes later we were seeing the last people out the door and I was just heading to lock the front door of the John Waverly Memorial Library when Lurch showed up, carrying a large cardboard box in. I actually had no idea what his name was but he was the assistant for Mrs. Waverly, whose late husband, and deep pockets had made this library possible. I had to crane my neck to look at him. He had shoulders that looked like he had never skipped a day at the gym. Hence, why, I thought of him as Lurch.



“Mrs. Waverly said these were for the local history room.”

He handed me the box, turned, and left, leaving golem-like footprints in the snow behind him. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck.

“Mika!” She turned towards me. “Take this.” I handed her the box and returned to lock the sliding glass door in the glass wall that gave a wide view of the street in front of the library. “Please tell me that doesn’t have in it what I think is in it?” I shouted over my shoulder as I switched the on-off settings to lock the door.

In her soft voice, I heard one word as she pulled back the cardboard and I heard her manicured fingers pushing packing paper aside. She looked at me with dismay and said one word. “Pottery.”

I audibly sighed. John Waverly had been a collector of pottery. The last time Mrs. Waverly had decided to do some house cleaning and drop off of pottery; it had been valued at $50,000. We have to pay insurance on this stuff and can’t sell any of it, while she is alive anyway. It would offend her. She still gave us several hundred thousand a year in cash as gifts too. So, aside from putting up some nice pieces for view, it was güvenilir bahis just a pain in my ass. And there were several pieces in here, which according to the rules had to be photographed, documented, and so on. I looked at Mika.

“Mika, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Throw it in secure storage and deal with it when we’re open again?”

“You, my dear, are a woman after my own heart. The protocol demands another full-time staff countersign. Sorry.”

She smiled at me. “Lead the way.”

By now there were less than ten people in the building, I gave orders to seal it up and told them I’d set the alarm on the way out. Patricia, the children’s librarian gave a bubbly bye and was the last one out the back door as Mika and I took the elevator down to the basement. Then we began the trek across the basement to the stairs that led to the sub-basement and the rare book storage. The library was built on top of the site of an old government depot of some kind. This sub-basement was the only thing left of the original site and had been too expensive to rip out and impossible to run the elevator to. As we walked down the stairs we passed through several feet of concrete and rebar until we got to the door. It was a wooden door but ridiculously 4 inches thick of hardwood, steel-framed, and with an automatic lock.

Not for the first time, I wondered what the hell they had kept down here. I took out the ancient key, the kind you see in movies set two centuries ago to unlock it. The mechanism felt off, and I found myself wiggling it but it eventually unlocked. I held the heavy door while Mika carried the box which gave me the excuse I needed to walk behind her and watch her ass. Officially I was watching out for the safety of an employee, of course. Damn, that loose shirt and slip-on sweater covered everything but as she moved I could still just see hints of curves I wanted my hands around. She stopped in front of the rare books room which my predecessor had retrofitted for full environmental control. As I stepped past her I almost reached out and grabbed that sweet looking ass. I did brush her shoulder with mine.

“Good thing it’s not creepy down here, eh?” I asked.

“You’ll protect me won’t you?” Mika fluttered her eyes at me and laughed softly.

“Absolutely, sweetheart,” I replied in my best Sam Spade voice, which wasn’t very good so I think the chuckle I got back was more for pitying her boss than genuine amusement.

The rare books room was modern, entered via a keypad. As soon as we entered the motion-sensing camera recorded us and we put the box down, double signed the log on the clipboard that we were delivering it, and got moving. We wasted no time heading back the way we came and turning the old lock with the key … except the lock wasn’t moving. Or rather the bolt wasn’t, the lock was moving, a lot, way more than it should.

I turned. Mika did not look amused. “You try it.” I handed her the key. A moment later after a lot of jiggling, she stopped trying.

“Fuck.” I don’t think I’d ever heard her cuss before. It was cute.

“Fuck.” I agreed. I unlocked my phone but as I expected no cell signal down here. Too much damn rebar. I turned the flashlight on and tried to look into the keyhole as if that would do anything. It didn’t except make me feel stupid. Meanwhile, I heard Mika walk off and a moment later she returned with a thick piece of rebar in hand with a bit of a rough point.

“The maintenance crew keeps a bunch of stuff in the corner for projects,” she supplied. Bless Mika, she had a good head on her shoulders.

I nodded. No emergency exit, the place had been grandfathered in and didn’t have to have one. Hindsight informed me it should have been higher on my priority list. Standing aside I motioned for Mika to have at it. A few minutes later she was breaking a sweat but making definite progress chipping away at the dense wood surrounding the lock. She had taken her sweater off, all the better for me to watch her chest bounce around.

She stopped, rested, and handed the rebar to me. I took off my jacket and tie. I have a good half a foot and fifty pounds on Mika but her blur of energy meant we did about the same amount of damage to the door. I have what would politely be called a dad bod and right now as I started to sweat and have my shirt stick to me.

“Well, you seem to handle the rebar fine,” I commented.

“I like DIY.” She smiled and with a bit of flush she seemed. “Besides, girls should be able to have fun handling rods too.”

I almost missed the door and slammed the rebar into the concrete on the side when she said that. I turned to see her grinning. In seconds we were both laughing.

“I’m not sure that was workplace appropriate humor, my good lady.”

“I have a form you can fill out to complain.”

“Oh, well, technically it’s after hours as the library is closed.”

“But we are on-premises. You’re still my boss.”

I laughed. “Well, if I had to be stuck in a sub-basement at least I have good company.”

“Let’s not türkçe bahis be stuck too long though.”

“Agreed.” I handed her back the rebar as she took over from me. It wasn’t sharp and the wood was hard. It was brutal work and we both had to take breaks. Under the pretense of taking photos of what we were doing, I took out my phone while she was working at it. A few of these might just stay on my phone too.

At one point she leaned over and looked. “Sure you don’t want me to pose?”

“Go for it!” I stood back and played photographer while she motioned to the damaged lock like a game show hostess.

At one point she stood to the side and motioned with both hands, “See, this beat up piece of shit can be yours too if you spin the wheel just right.”

“You’re an angel. I need to be careful or some game show will steal you from me.”

“I think they prefer blonde bikini models.”

“I think they’re missing out on an important demographic then.”

“Middle-aged librarians?”

“I was thinking of men with a pulse.”

“You’re sweet.”

“No, just male. But, come on, let’s get this done.”

We got through several hard inches when we finally started to feel a bit of give so we kept at it. I looked at my phone. God damn it, it was almost four o’clock. We’d been at this for two hours. Then with a satisfying crack, we finally broke it free and jogged up the stairs.

Sweaty, we made a walk of shame through the basement shelving to the elevator. Halfway to the first floor, my phone began exploding with a series of pings from missed calls and messages. As the doors opened from the elevator Mika headed a hard right and went directly to the bathroom and I made the call.

“Hi dear,” I said when she picked up. “Yes, I know it’s bad … I got stuck in the sub-basement, no cellphone signal down there.” I listened to her fuss at me, standing at the front circ desk, looking out the twelve-foot wide glass front. The snow was a foot high and just as high on the street as it was on the sidewalk. When she finally took a breath, “No, I don’t think that’s an option. The roads are bad and the snow is already at least a foot high here … Well, it wasn’t my goal to spend two hours breaking through a door to find myself snowed in … love you too.”

Mika had come out of the bathroom and looked at me, her sweater again in her hand. I called the city manager. A few minutes later what I suspected was confirmed. Mika listened to my side of the conversation. Looking out the doors it was surreal. Downtown didn’t have any residential or shopping, just office buildings, so it was deserted out there.

“No way, huh,” She asked.

“Unless you drove a tank to work we’re stuck here.”

She sighed, which did nice things with her chest. “We might as well get comfortable then.” She walked to the elevator and hit the button for admin on the third floor. We rode up in silence, disembarked and she headed towards the kitchenette. “It’s getting colder. Want some tea?” She asked over her shoulder.


I threw my jacket and tie over my chair and followed Mika. In the kitchenette, she was microwaving coffee mugs with water and getting tea bags out. In a few minutes, the tea was ready. The building did a decent job of keeping up with the cold but looking at the snow outside having a hot mug in my hands was comforting. It was hard to not feel cold looking at the snow coming down.

“Well, bad news,” she said. “When it hits dinner time our options are a few cups of noodles that look dubious and…” she opened the fridge, “some sushi.”

“That’s mine, leftovers from lunch.”

“Today’s?” she asked.


“At least you have that then.”

“I’ll share it.” I smiled at her. “I like sharing.”

“Only one pair of chopsticks.”

“I can use my fingers.”

She looked like she considered a few responses but instead stretched and said, “Well, it’s still a few hours until I’ll be hungry.” She looked at me, one hand on her hip, “Netflix and chill?”

“Together? Are we ready to negotiate the dubious world of common Netflix watching together as friends?”

She looked me over. “Friends? You’re still my boss even if this is after hours now, the library closed and all that.”

“How about this then, we let other groups use the library, they just have to assume liability.”

“Okay then,” she grinned, “Until 8 am tomorrow morning I am present as a non-employee who happened to get stuck in the library. I take full responsibility for my own actions.”

“As do I.” We shook hands.

She turned a bit giving me some side-eye. “So, you’re not my boss again until tomorrow morning?”

“Nope, no filing a complaint if I harass you.” I laughed as I said it to make clear it was a joke. She walked back towards our offices and spoke as she walked ahead of me. I watched her ass.

“You know,” she said, “that would never hold up in arbitration.”

“Hush, let’s just be friends tonight.”

A little sway entered her walk. “Your wife may not like us being friends.”

“Well, güvenilir bahis siteleri she doesn’t know you’re here.”

“You didn’t tell her?”

“What goes on at work isn’t her business.”

She was at her office door now and turned to look at me. “Even if it’s not work-related?”

I smiled. “I’ve always made it a rule that what I do without her isn’t her business.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Does she know that?”

“Yep.” I met her gaze levelly.

There was a very long pause as Mika stood looking at me. “She must be very understanding,” she finally said.

“I made things very clear before we got married and I’ve always kept my friendships from affecting my home life so she ignores it,” I said.

She didn’t sit but leaned against the doorframe. “You make a lot of friends? Is that why you didn’t mention me to your wife.”

“Not in a good while,” I said seriously. “But I told her I’d do what I wanted when I wasn’t with her.”

“Did you agree to tell her when you did?”

“Actually, no, I didn’t.”

“Sounds like a technicality.”

“I don’t talk about it but I don’t hide it either.”

“So, you don’t know how much she knows?” Mika looked thoughtful and her lips were very kissable.

“You know, your empathy is a virtue as someone to talk to in HR but are we on the clock or off it?”

“Off.” She blushed. Now that it was passing teasing she was getting more embarrassed, which made me bolder.

“So, what does my friend, Mika, say?”

“Your friend says that she needs to relax.”

“Come to my office, I’ll give you a shoulder rub.”

“Oh, the old shoulder rub.”

“Don’t knock it, I have good hands.”

“Hmmm,” I had stepped a little closer and she looked up at me. “One sec. I’ll be there.”

I headed back to my office and sat on the couch waiting for her. I would never have bought a couch for an office but my predecessor had and I saw no reason to throw it out. It had made lunchtime naps really convenient. This was stupid even flirting with an employee. But when I was actually looking at her I got that heated blood feeling that made being smart impossible.

My pondering didn’t get any further because she chose right then to walk in, her shoes removed so she walked barefoot over to me. I patted the couch and I scooted back so she could get between my legs. I began working the muscles on her shoulders and then her neck. It took a while but as she started to relax I moved my hands and began to work on the tension in her scalp.

“Mmmmm I didn’t know your hands were this good,” she said.

“I’m glad I haven’t lost my touch. By the way, thinking ahead, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight. I won’t have you sleeping on the floor.”

“Then you’re sleeping on the other end.”


“No arguing?”

“Nope. It’ll give my feet some time for inappropriate relations.”

“You are into that, feet?”

“Oh, no, there are other things I like a lot more…”.

Mika froze a little but then seemed to decide something. “You have any music?” She had caught me in the early hours before the library opened before and knew my tastes.

“I’ve been listening to Sepultura recently.”

“Ooooo play something.”

I got up to turn the Bluetooth soundbar on and let the music play from my phone. The guitars kicked in immediately and Mika began dancing, rapid rhythmic motions in time with the music. The music was hard but rhythmic as Autem started. A few a short time the lyrics started…

Find a way to leave behind / The things you did / You can’t rewind

Mika danced and I watched her. I didn’t leer, I really watched her dance, she was gorgeous. I could understand how old religions had worshipped Venus if her priestesses had danced like this. I was horny and tired and it was all getting to me.

“Mind if I get comfortable?” She asked.

“Go ahead, we’re not at work.”

With one liquid motion, she took the cotton top and took it off, twirled it around and it flew into the corner of my office. That left her in a black lace bra that enclosed two of the most magnificent pieces of female flesh I’ve ever seen and I couldn’t even see that much. Her pants joined a split second later though she had to stop moving to take those off. Then she was dancing in a matching pair of bra and panties.

I sat back on the end of the couch and slowly rubbed at my hardening crotch.

“Are you comfortable?” She asked.

“Not one bit,” I laughed.

She smiled at me. “We’re friends here. Just be like you’d be at home. We can acknowledge we’re sexual things. It doesn’t mean anything is going to happen.”

That sounded like bullshit to me but I wasn’t going to call her on it. In seconds I had everything off but my boxers and sat back on the couch. The cotton boxers did nothing to hide my hardon at this point but I left them on. I wasn’t quite sure where my limits were but if we were just going to give each other a show I’d still be a happy man.

She danced through two songs, violent gyrations, her hips moving in synchronicity to the beat. I just sat back sipping my tea. She shifted her hips back and forth and whipped her hair into a frenzy. Her ass was perfect, large enough to squeeze and hold without being too big. Everything was built for being a woman.

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