He had keys, of course.

There was a small door at the back, never used by any students or staff, and it was through that door that Claude jerked his hard-on when he was feeling the need to empty his balls.

Claude was not a literary fellow. Normally he had little interest in books, but they were okay to shoot on, which he did. But then he had made an interesting discovery. He had removed a volume from the shelf to mop away his cum from the spine, and it had fallen open at a spicy passage. Claude took an interest in such things.

After that, he had searched out some of the naughty books that had lurked secretly on those back shelves through the years. He liked to browse through a provocative passage or, better yet, gaze at a suggestive picture, while he stroked his cock.

He had been doing this, off and on, for some time.

Claude was a small, skinny guy with straw colored hair and a crooked mouth. He was not handsome and he was not personable and so his love life had never blossomed. He'd only fucked a couple women in his whole life, and they had both been uglier than he was. But Claude did have a secret charm. If more girls had known about it, the janitor would undoubtedly have fared better in matters of love.

He had a huge prick.

It was one of those tapering cocks, thick at the base and narrowing up to a pointed tip, that seemed to have been designed for prying into tight pussies. The knob was elongated and the stalk was as gnarled as the root of an olive tree, sprouting out above a set of balls that could fire four or five times without pausing to reload.

Claude didn't have a great imagination, but he was not totally devoid of one, and he thought about lots of depraved things when he was jacking his pounding prick.

He thought about fucking, of course.

He thought about having his cock sucked, a thing he had never experienced. This intrigued him. But most of all he thought about fucking a woman up the ass.