Al Moore was a busy illustrator from the 1940s to the late 50s, generating advertising, fashion, covers, story art, and pin up arts. Replaced Vargas and Petty as Esquire’s main pin-up man. Moore’s girls are less glossy and impossible than those of his talented predecessors, being more girl-next door realistic and natural. He provided calendars for Esquire, Brown and Bigelow. Last illustrations for Pan Am and US Olympics.






Read “The Horny Librarian”

a Short Story Inspired by Al Moore

Click to Read The Horny Librarian

There were about a dozen girls who worked at my local library, and all of them – without exception – were stunningly attractive. Perhaps it’s just my personal preference, but I find that I just can’t resist a bookish-looking girl… especially one with glasses.

 

My personal favorite was the blonde girl who worked at the returns desk. Alison was her name, and she and I always exchanged a few words whenever I stopped by. There was usually an unmistakable flirty energy between us, and I always fantasized that something might one day happen… if only we had the chance!

 

Well, that chance came one day late in the year. I’d stayed late working in the reference section of the library, and it had gotten so that it was dark outside. There weren’t many other patrons – in fact, as I made ready to leave I realized that it was only me and Alison still in the building. All the other staff had gone home, but Alison was still busy at her desk. Perhaps it was time to try my luck, I thought. With just the two of us alone in the building I could turn up the heat, and perhaps even ask her out.

 

As I approached the desk though, I saw that Alison hadn’t even noticed my presence. Her head was lowered and her eyes were shut. Her black skirt was hitched up around her hips, revealing that her stockings ended with black suspenders. Both her hands were between her spread legs, stroking frantically. Her lips were slightly parted, and her back was hunched. Alison was, much to my surprise, getting herself off behind the returns desk. I watched, hypnotized, as her movements became more rapid. The gusset of her panties was black silk, and I could see it glistening with her wetness already. Her whole body quivered with the effort of her exertions and a series of small, tortured moans escaped her mouth. It was all happening so fast that I didn’t have time to feel like a perv or a voyeur. I did feel a blush rising up my cheeks though, and I was about to turn and leave her to it, when suddenly she opened her eyes.

 

There was moment when neither of us moved. Alison froze, her hands still pressing into her crotch. I was just a few steps away, and I didn’t know whether to apologise or flee. In the end though, it turned out that neither course of action would be necessary. Alison’s bright eyes fixed on mine and, very slowly and deliberately, she kept on touching herself. There was no mistaking what was happening now. This was flirtation. This was an invitation. This was a tease. I took a few steps closer, so that the only thing separating us was the low wooden shelf of the return desk.

 

Alison was still looking right at me. She bit her lip as her hands worked at her crotch. She lifted one of them, and beckoned to me. The only sound in the whole library was her ragged breathing, but that alone was enough to have me turned on and sporting a rock hard erection. I sat down on the desk, then swung my legs over and spread them. Almost as if on cue, Alison fell to her knees, one hand still buried in her crotch. The other gripped the edge of the return desk, her mouth hovering just inches from my crotch. Hurriedly, I undid my belt. My cock was straining by this stage, and sprang free. Alison wasted no time in wrapping her hand around it and taking it in her mouth. Her lips formed a tight seal, and she swirled her tongue around the head. Her mouth was warm and wet, and she sucked on me with enthusiasm, taking me so deep that I could feel the right clutch of her throat.

 

I looked down at her. She knelt between my legs, masturbating frantically as she took my cock in her mouth. Her head bobbed in rhythm, her hair tickling my thighs and stomach. Each outward breath rebounded off me, and whenever she pulled back I could see the shaft of my cock coated slickly with her saliva. The sexual tension had been high between me and Alison for quite a while – to finally have her going down on me now was almost enough to drive me over the edge straight away… but I held back. I could feel her movements becoming faster and wilder, her breathing tightening, even her licking and tonguing of my cock becoming looser and faster.

 

It wasn’t more than a couple of minutes before she came. When she did she squeezed my cock tight and gasped around it. Her whole body convulsed, and I could almost see the tremors running through her like tiny waves. I stroked her hair with one hand, and rolled my hips forward, pushing myself just a little bit deeper as my own orgasm rose up inside of me.

 

I came in Alison’s mouth. She seemed to like it – forming a seal with her lips and sucking down every last drop as I pumped into her. I watched her throat bob, and the uplifted expression on her face as her own climax ran its course. She squeezed her hand tighter around my shaft in rhythm with each spurt I unloaded into her throat. At last, after what seemed like ages, we were done. She pulled back a little, but not all the way. As my cock began to soften, she started cleaning it with tender little licks and kissed, a serene smile on her face.

 

The whole thing had happened in the space of just a couple of minutes, but it was so surreal it felt as though we’d stepped through into a completely different world. I stroked her hair as she cleaned me, and then helped her to stand and flop back into her chair. She was out of breath, her hair disheveled, her eyes alight with pleasure. “You want to hear a secret?” she said happily. “What?” “While I was touching myself back then… I was thinking of you.”