“Don’t overthink it, I also don’t know why she does it. But I tried it, and it worked. Just go there and try it, who cares about why? Ask her yourself when you’re done if you care so much.”

Those had been the words that sealed the deal, coming from your good friend Jason. The one friend who knew all about your troubles, the one whose life you had, at times, envied for how carefree it looked from the outside. A stressful job mixed with a stressful marriage tinted any glasses rose when looking at your forever-single, forever-bohemian friend. And so, you had put both pride and morals aside, as much as it had cost you, and you had followed his advice, second-guessing yourself the whole way through.

7 PM. The library was quiet, as a library should be. At the front desk sat a librarian who looked as approachable as your wife whenever you missed dinner without a heads up because you really needed to finish that one report.

“Excuse me, do you have any copies of The Man Without Qualities?” Ironic title.

Her stern gaze made it clear that she thought the perfect exemplar of such a man stood in front of her. “Author?” she droned, even though there couldn’t be many authors writing a book with that title.

“Robert Musil.”

Her fingers drummed against the keyboard with practiced precision. Then she looked back at you, the judgment on her face almost making one believe she knew that your intentions were anything but literary. Or maybe you were overthinking things, again.

“There’s one copy, section 833, upstairs. Do you plan to borrow it, or to read it here?”

“I’ll probably borrow it, but I’d like to give it a read in the reading area, to see if it catches my interest.”

“Suit yourself. Do you have a library card?”

Obviously, you did not. “No.”

“You’ll have to make one before checking out with the book.”

That could wait. If what Jason said proved to be true, that wouldn’t even be necessary. So, you excused yourself, thanking the lady for her pleasant attitude, and made your way to section 833. Finding the book didn’t take long, and soon after you were sitting by yourself at a circular table, the one closest to the window, where you didn’t think you’d be bothered.

An hour ran by, and then another, as promised by Jason. The blessing in disguise of this whole ordeal was that you had gotten yourself two extra hours to go through work on your laptop in an environment where you wouldn’t be bothered by colleagues, your kids, or your wife. Occasionally, you’d grab the book and skim through a few pages whenever someone walked past your quiet corner. Just in case.

Your nerves grew as the library’s closing time neared. Progressively, more and more people started packing their stuff and leaving. Not you. A couple of minutes past 9 PM, you heard an unfamiliar voice, still in hushed tones, asking the last few readers to please check out their books, or to return them at the front desk so they could be properly shelved again. The pleasant tone of that voice clearly did not belong to the woman you had met earlier. It belonged to the one Jason had promised. It wasn’t lost on you that your table was ignored until all the remaining readers had left the area.

“Sir, it’s closing time. Would you like to borrow that book or return it?” My expression was as agreeable as my voice. The card clipped to the pocket of my white shirt read “Ms. Silva”, a bit old-fashioned on a woman who looked to be in her college years. Looking at me, it was hard to imagine I was the femme fatale you had been promised. I looked too bubbly, too immaculate.

“I’m just finishing a chapter” you lied, you weren’t even holding the book. But that was what Jason had told you to say. Despite your doubts, everything was happening as he said it would, so you’d stick to his instructions without the slightest deviation. “Can I have a few more minutes?”

“Of course, Sir.” My eyes found your book resting undisturbed over the table, and then scanned you from head to toe. “I’ll check out the remaining readers, and I’ll come over again when that is done.” And I smiled.

At once, you knew it had worked. Just like that, everything became real. There was no denying, no pretense of surprise that you could summon to defend yourself if anyone ever found out. The following five minutes stretched for far longer than the previous two hours had. First, the lights of the remaining sections of the library started shutting down, one after another. Yours was the last, and the space became dimmer, bathed only by the yellow light from the lampposts outside. From your window, you could see the last few people exiting from the library and onto the street, one floor below you. Everyone but me.

And just like that, I was back. Instead of a polite request to leave, you observed me walk up to you and sit at the edge of the table. Close to you. You needed only to shift your leg an inch to the side, and you’d be touching mine.

“You come from Mr. Adams?” That was Jason’s last name.

You nodded. My smile grew in certainty. The card clip was absent from my shirt. You could swear I had an additional loose button than before.

“Did he tell you about the rules?”

Hello everyone, thank you for reading this far!

I believe the prompt is pretty self-explanatory, so I’ll emphasize the details that are most important to me. You’re a guy with a pretty established life, in his 40-50’s, who neglected his marriage and, in looking for some carnal relief, you were recommended a girl that your friend Jason found. That girl, less than half your age, follows a particular procedure that seems to be spread via word of mouth to meet with the people she eventually pleases.

I don’t have a particular direction or plot set in stone, but in my mind, this would play out in a sort of one-off scene in which my character basically takes care of yours. My initial idea was for it to be a blowjob where my character takes the reins of the situation throughout the whole thing, coming from the angle of your guy being someone who just needs to have matters taken out of his hands. But I’m open to hearing different suggestions or ideas. The fact that this is a one-off scene, or that it is quick to get to the sexy part, does not mean that the emotional impact of what is happening should be skimmed over. Your guy is cheating. I want to know how he got to this point, and what he feels throughout the whole thing about what he’s doing or becoming. I want to dive into both characters’ minds.

I have a strong preference for opening messages which dive right into the writing. For example, retelling the prompt from the guy's perspective and pushing the action slightly forward (but I figure Jason maybe has neglected to mention any rules to your character), or giving background, or whatever you see fit, even if we then backtrack (and we most likely will) to figure some details out. I know it requires a bit more investment on your behalf, but it's much more important to me that we match in writing styles than in personality or OOC talk.

When it comes to kinks, I'm into big (legal) age gaps, cheating, escalation, teasing, slow burners, oral/vaginal/anal, masturbation, outercourse, grinding, risk of getting caught, risky locations, rough sex, slow sex, etc. They don’t have to be all shoved into the roleplay. I'm particularly fond of attractiveness gaps/odd pairings, so dad-bods, greying hairs, or whatever it is you want that speaks of a guy past his prime and who focused on his career rather than his physique are more than welcome!

My limits are toilet stuff, fisting, beastiality, and extreme pain.

I don't use Reddit chat, only DM's. Looking forward to hearing from you!