The Librarian Who Loved To Fuck
Laura Weber cast a sidelong glance in the direction of the nineteenth century romance novels and saw that there was trouble brewing. From her position behind her desk in the center of the library, she could see everything, even Kenneth Wilcox's hand inching its way under the reading table toward Mary Kepler's knee. Laura knew that the youngsters who frequented the Maple Grove Public Library were only there because they were forced by their teachers' reading assignments. She knew perfectly well...