Sitting back I let my mind wander as I take the roll call of my fellow bibliophiles. To my left and 3 stations behind is Bruno, his tweed jacket smelling of damp from the rain this morning, mixed with the heavy pipe tobacco that gave me his name. To my right is Florence, named for the way she speaks with a slight Italian accent and her apparent insatiable love of tomato sandwiches. I wasn't surprised that Miss Marple was missing, she was an infrequent visitor on Tuesdays, presumably having to make time to go to the post office to collect her pension, and anyway this morning's rain would have set off her cough so I am not disappointed she has gone awol. Until Bruno pushed back his chair and snapped his book closed, and from the sound I knew he had finished his novel, I wasn't aware of time passing, the words flying off the page to create a world in my mind. He shuffles to the desk and speaks sotto voce to the librarian, although with this old buildings acoustics he may as well have. “Ah, yes,” I lied, “I can feel it now.”She gave me a funny look, removed my hand, and, tilting her head so she was looking at me from under her brows, her lips twisted slightly in a little smirk, which seemed to be saying so you liked what you felt. She moved her left hand onto my thigh and squeezed it gently, before allowing her fingers to explore the lump being made by my cock as it grew.I quickly checked that neither Liz nor Daffy seemed aware of what was going on, but Becky was staring down at my crotch. Clearly, she was aware.I had the idea that Daffy and Sara’s presence in the house would dampen Becky’s insatiable desire to get pregnant. The first hint I had that this was not the case came the morning after our visitors arrived.Liz had to go to work early, and was downstairs fixing breakfast and brewing coffee when I got out of bed and climbed into the shower. The cubicle was a large one, some four feet square, with a seat at the side opposite the jets – it was fitted with six.
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