4 comments/ 66606 views/ 5 favorites Lust in an Elevator By: dirtygirl72 While on my way down to the lobby of a Vegas hotel, the elevator I was in lurched to a stop halfway between floors four and five. I glanced nervously at the only other occupant in the elevator, a well-dressed man in his late 30's to early 40's. Turning his head, he gave me a reassuring smile; unfortunately his effort did little to half my contemplation of the elevator plunging to the floors below. Calmly, his manicured fingers touched a few buttons and I watched hopefully as the buttons lit up. But the damn elevator didn't move. There was no emergency phone, but there was an emergency button, and I felt some of the nervousness fade as the alarm bell sounded, thinking that surely someone would hear it and come to our rescue. Initially, I was frightened because of the stalled elevator, but as the minutes ticked by I gained my composure and leaned up against the metal wall of the cubicle. I felt the eyes of the elevator occupant on my bare legs. Did he like what he saw? I wondered naughtily to myself. At 5'2 I am very petite and even though my legs may not be of the length that encourages a male to visualize them wrapped around his waist, they are strong and well- muscled. I also spend time in the sun and my skin takes on the gold-tone glow frequently seen on the typical California blonde, so it isn't necessary for me to wear stockings. My automatic instinct was to stare the man down in challenge for his leering. But absent my customary business suit I felt unarmed. Thinking about it now, perhaps I looked a bit easy tonight. My blond shoulder-length hair was free from its pins atop my head, and my makeup was heavier than usual. When I had dressed this evening the let-loose atmosphere of Vegas influenced my choice of clothing. My skirt was a little on the short side and the tanned expanse of my legs would attract the eye of many men. The silk camisole-shirt that many women wear clung sexily to my curves. Because I am a generous C-cup (on a petite frame) for work I choose loose fitting clothing. I had to learn the hard way. During sales presentations, I would frequently glance at clients to find them fixated on my breasts instead of paying attention to my presentations. Passes from the male species I could handle, but being confined in an elevator with a man that was clearly undressing me with his eyes evoked a feeling of helplessness and anticipation. Getting into the elevator, I wasn't worried about the occupant in the elevator. The cloth of his suit was obviously expensive and the material clung to his elegant shoulders as if were tailored around the contours of his body. Even the Italian leather of his shoes gleamed. The tell-tale manicure of his fingers and his carefully groomed head of hair completed the picture of a man who was a CEO or a lawyer, easily pictured sitting in a boardroom or speaking eloquently in a courtroom. Everything except his eyes proclaimed him harmless. Even though his lips still smiled at me, it seemed that he was merely toying with my emotions. Heat in his eyes contradicted the disarming smile. "Cold?" he asked and I looked at him and shook my head mutely as if at a loss for words. His accent was English-the single spoken word testament to fine educational institutions. I felt him staring at my breasts and I knew why he had asked if I was cold. My nipples were outlined against the thin silk of the blouse I had chosen to wear. I almost groaned because I realized what a mistake I had made in my choice. As a response to arousal or cold my nipples get very large, and because of this I usually am very careful in my choice of fabrics and lingerie. Another coincidence perfectly or not so perfectly timed. My unease must have been obvious, because he made another attempt at polite conversation, and inquired about my reason for being in Vegas. My explanation about my cousin's bachelorete party seemed to satisfy him, but it evoked another question that I was not ready for. "So are you in a randy mood tonight?" He teasingly asked me, the clipped words falling from his ever-smiling mouth. That accent alone was making my knees part subconsciously. When I hear an Englishmen speak in that ever-so-proper tone of his, I think of the BBC's Pride and Prejudice and Colin Firth/Darcy soaked through with his shirt clinging to his torso. So here I am, stuck in an elevator, toes curled, knees apart, thinking nasty thoughts about getting on my knees and sucking a man's cock just so I can hear how dirty words would sound in that accent. Oh sure that thought that I was in a public elevator that could start moving at any moment was in my thoughts also-somewhere in the dark depths. I never did answer his question. Apparently I didn't need to. He took one deliberate step towards me, standing so close that I smelled his cologne. The top of my head barely came to his upper chest, his head came down and his lips covered mine, and I fell into the kiss. His lips were mission-oriented, insistence. I could not resist when he thrust his tongue into my mouth, imitating the act of copulation. My body was extremely hot, I felt wet warmth pooling in my lower region, and as his hands came to my breasts I felt his fingers tugging at my nipples through the silk of my camisole. I placed my hands over his and encouraged him in his play. With a desperate motion I pulled my camisole up and my bra was yanked down under my generous breasts, pushing them up for his mouth. He was a rare find, for his instincts lead him directly to my weakness. Because my breasts are so sensitive, I can be brought to orgasm though simple manipulation. His nipping teeth added a little pain to the pleasure and I was even more at his control. His hand went to my knee and raised it. Fingers trailed up my thigh and pushed aside the crotch of my silk panties, found me went, and entered me. With his fingers manipulated my clit, he whispered to me "Earlier I smelled this....I smelled your hot cunt" In response my hands went to his trousers, his cock was hard. Quickly, I worked on his belt, trousers and finally my hands came to his drawers. I stroked and caressed him through the silk of his boxers. I freed him from his silken bonds and my fingers encircled him and began a steady pumping motion. We were both ready, his hands were slick from my wetness and his cock had indicated his desire by emitting a drop of precum onto my fingers. Almost brutally, he grabbed me by my thighs and lifted me onto the handrail. I was now firmly pinned between him and the unforgiving metal wall, the only support I had was my ass on the metal rail and his hands under my thighs. Against my inner thighs I felt that hard length of his cock. His trousers were at his knees, but my panties served as an unwelcome barrier to him. Earlier he had, merely pushed them aside. Now he tore the offending black silk from my body and laid my pussy bare to his pleasure. He dropped the barely-there piece of black silk and it fell to the floor, lying at his leather-cased feet. I felt him pushing at my slick entrance with his cock. But before completely entering me, he put his mouth to my nipple and at the moment of conquest, he buried his cock to the balls, and nipped me. I was in complete ecstasy. All I could think of was the length of his hard cock in me, paired with the fractional pain of his teeth and I opened my legs as far as they would go. Hard savage lust had overtaken this man and he staked claim to a woman who was hot and wet and ready to be fucked. After my initial pleasure/pain had waned, I glanced over his shoulder at the mirror on the wall. The picture presented made me feel dirty and naughty-only increasing my pleasure. I stood there, skirt hiked up, my legs wrapped around him, gripping him, encouraging him further. The red of my stiletto heels stood in stark contrast to the paleness of his ass as his pounded into my body. Adding more to this sexy picture was that fact that we were essentially clothed, his boxers and trousers were at his knees and my bra simply pushed my tits up as if offering them to him on a tray. Occasionally he would grunt in time with his thrusting especially when I would tighten the muscles of my vagina around his cock, in order to increase his pleasure. His face was turned away from me, and I couldn't see his expression, but I am certain that he no longer had that smile on his face. His thrusts were measured and even then I felt that he was still maintaining his control. Suddenly I was possessed of the desire to have control-by making him lose his. I put my lips to his ear and asked him "Do you like my pussy?" He responded with a particularly sharp thrust, and I knew his weakness. He wanted me to talk dirty. I talked to him and asked him dirty questions using words like "cock" and "pussy" in my sentences. I was rewarded when his paced picked up and his fucking became almost brutal. At last he had lost control. He slammed into me hard, knocking the breath out of me. My breasts were swaying almost obscenely, I became obsessed, I wanted him to come-but I was him to make me come, and I wanted control over the situation. Now that I had him, I allowed myself to orgasm-every muscle in my body tensed. I came and as my vaginal muscles tensed around him, I heard him utter the word "fuck" and his arms gripped me hard to his body; holding me absolutely still as gave one last deep thrust emptying himself into me. I felt his arms loosen; he parted from me. He eased out of me and left behind a wet path on my inner thigh. I slid down from my perch atop the handrail. He gently supported me as the blood rushed to my legs and I regained feeling in them. He turned from me and pulled his trousers up and I adjusted my clothing. As I pushed my skirt down, coaxed my breasts back into the confines of the bra and pulled down my camisole, the elevator started to move. When he finally turned toward me his face was the mask of calm and civility, and not a hair on his pretty golden head was out of place. I was a different story-my hair was mussed, my face was pink, I was sore between my legs and my nipples were bruised from his eager teething. To top it off I had no panties. Too late, I realized that my panties were on the floor. The elevator stopped, but there was a quick movement at the corner of my vision. He had bent to pick up the discarded panties, and placed them into his pocket. As the doors opened he followed me out and kissed a greeting to an elegant looking woman who was apprehensively waiting for him. As he took his lips from her rose bud mouth, he shot me a glance over her shoulder as I walked by. Once again, on his face was that charming smile, but in his eyes was the naughty-boy that I had met on the elevator. He almost indiscernibly patted the coat pocket into which he had stuffed my panties. I returned his glance with a narrow-eyed stare of my own and hurried through the lobby, acutely aware of the wet dribbles streaming down my naked inner thigh. Lust? In an Elevator You hear a lot of people say how much it sucks being single on Valentine's Day. Even worse, being a single male that works as a flower shop delivery person on Valentine's Day. I may have been able to agree with that idea in the past, that is, until the day that changed my life forever. To summarize what made that fateful day even occur in my life, here is a quick background. I am a 23 year old college student in my second semester of a business graduate program. I currently hold a two semester internship at a high profile advertising agency in Downtown Chicago. Though the company pays nothing for intern employment, they do foot the tuition bill with a promise of hiring me full time upon graduation. As you can imagine, however, the books, supplies and cost of college living can be quite expensive, even without the worry of the cost of actually going. Therefore, on top of the twenty or so hours at the agency, twenty hours of class time and the many hours needed for home studying each week, I still always had to find time to make some money. Luckily for me, I have an aunt and uncle that own one of the largest flower/gift delivery services in all of Chicago. In the past, I would work for my aunt and uncle during all the busy seasons, just to help them out. Now they were returning the favor by letting me make deliveries whenever I had free time, just to put some cash in my pockets. When I worked in the past, I usually had a special someone in my life, so it never really bothered me to have to deliver all these gifts of love and joy to different women around the city. This year was a little different though. I was single on V-Day for the first time in several years. I convinced myself that the reason I wasn't in any sort of relationship was because I didn't have time for one, and truly I didn't. I'm not arrogant, but I like to think I am an attractive guy. 5'10, slightly toned complexion, dark brown hair, green eyes, athletic build, and a decent fashion sense. I'm certainly no stud, but I like to maintain a respectable appearance. Being alone on Valentine's Day did make me feel a little bit strange and out of place. My self esteem wasn't low or anything, I just felt like I was missing out on something. With every delivery I made that day, my heart would begin to race with each beautiful woman that I would make a delivery to. At first, I felt as though each woman was flirting with me a bit, but then I would come to the realization that they were just excited over the gift they just received from their husband, boyfriend, lover or secret admirer. It was just around 2:30pm when I arrived at the location of my last delivery, before I had to go back to my apartment to get ready for my class that evening. I headed into the lobby of the large skyscraper carrying my messenger bag, a large two dozen bouquet of roses and a rather larger white teddy bear. Without checking the delivery slip, I told the security guard I had a delivery for a Mrs. Peterson on the 25th floor. He saw I had my hands full, so simply he directed me to the bank of express elevators that took you straight to floors 20-35. Once I got to the 25th floor, I exited the elevator and approached the receptionist's desk in the middle of the office. When I said that I had a delivery for Mrs. Peterson, the look of confusion on the woman's face was understood when I looked at the delivery slip and saw that the delivery was to go to the 15th floor. A very stupid, yet simple mistake for a delivery person, however, the best mistake I ever made in my life. A little embarrassed by my mistake, I apologized and returned to the elevator. Once I stepped back into the elevator to push the button for the 15th floor, I realized that I would have to go all the way back down to the lobby and use the other bank of elevators that take you to floors 2-19. I pressed my body into the corner of the elevator against the wall of dark tinted mirrors. As I lowered my head, I began to shake it back and forth with a slight bit of shame. Then I let out a soft chuckle, realizing it was a simple mistake and only a minor setback on my day. Suddenly, the elevator slowed and I heard the ding, as it stopped at the 21st floor. When the doors opened, in walked the most beautiful creature that I had ever seen on this earth. As she entered, she smiled brightly at me, then turn to stand on the opposite side of the elevator. She was about 5'5, long dark brown hair, a stunning body and the face of an angel. A very cliché thing to say, yet 100% true. She had a large heart shaped box of chocolates in her hands, so my first thought was to check for an engagement or wedding ring, but there was none. She was professionally dressed; black skirt, dark stockings, high heels and a gray overcoat, which made me believe she was heading home for the day. I suddenly felt like more of an idiot for screwing up the delivery, thinking I could maybe have been able to strike up a conversation and offer to give her a ride home or something. But no, I had to make this stupid delivery. Then I thought, wait a minute, if I never screwed up in the first place, I probably would have never even seen her. I felt quite silly standing there with all these gifts for some other woman, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to at least try talking to her. I took a deep breath, and simply said in a deep, manly, yet corny voice, "Hello there. How are you this afternoon? Happy Valentine's Day." She continued to look straight ahead with no reaction at all. I figured she probably had a serious boyfriend and figured what's the point of even talking to me. I wasn't going to give up without a fight though, so I pointed towards the box in her hands and said, "Pretty big box of chocolates, eh?" I felt like an idiot saying that, but at least this time she turned toward me and smiled. Still no verbal reply, so I couldn't stop there. "So, going home already? It's only like 2:30 or so. Must be nice." I uttered with a silly grin. But again, no reply whatsoever. This time I felt a bit defeated. Then, the lights in the elevator flickered and we came to a slow stop. I knew that there was no way we had reached the lobby already, so I looked towards her to see how she might react. She let out a big sigh, crossed her arms around the box and her chest, and began to impatiently tap her foot on the floor. After a few minutes of mostly silence, with the exception of her tapping foot, she finally turned to me and said, "What do you think happened?" The sound of her voice kind of threw me off at first. Not in a bad way, but because it was very unique. My first thought was that she had an foreign accent. Then she spoke again, "This is why I hate taking elevators. Especially in a tall building like this. One of my biggest fears coming true right before some stranger's eyes." Before she could even finish, it hit me like a ton of bricks. The uniqueness of her voice was a slight speech impediment, and the animated use of her hands while she spoke had me to believe that she was deaf. I had to think quit without making myself look like an idiot. I thought about trying to use my hands to communicate, but then realized that was a bad idea considering I didn't know a lick of sign language. Then, without further hesitation, I reached into my messenger bag and pulled out one of my school tablets and a pen. I quickly wrote on a piece of paper; HI, I'M TOM. DON'T WORRY, EVERYTHING WILL BE OK. She seemed very impressed by my quick thinking and a huge smile returned to her face as she said, "That was very nice of you to write that down for me. But I want you to know I can read lips, if you talk slow and clear." The more I heard her voice, the less strange is sounded to me. Her dialect sounded much like the famous deaf actress Marlee Matlin, however, the pitch of her voice was very soft and sweet. My heart was racing, and my head was in a fog. I'm not even sure what I was saying to her, but obviously, I began to ramble too much. She put one finger to her lips and said, "Shhh. Maybe you should use the pen and paper." I replied with a big smile and a bit of relief that she stopped me before I blurted out something idiotic or offensive. I slid my back down the mirrored wall until I was seated on the floor, then grabbed hold of her hand to see if she would follow my lead. As she lowered herself to the floor, I couldn't help but to stare at her sexy legs and up her thigh length skirt. My heart was already racing, but now in was in overdrive. We got comfortable on the floor, not knowing how long the elevator would be out of service. She removed her coat to reveal the tight, dark blue, V-neck sweater that was underneath. She had this beautiful platinum necklace on, with a sapphire pendant that laid ever so delicately on her skin right at the top of her cleavage. I can't even describe any better how perfect her body was, other than saying it was absolutely PERFECT. Over the next ten minutes or so, I communicated by paper and she replied in voice. We found out a lot about each other in that short period of time. I learned that her name was Kelly Johnston, she was 25 and recently became a CPA. Her favorite color, blue; her favorite sport, hockey; her favorite food, sushi; her favorite movie, Pleasantville. She had a cat named BoBo and a parakeet named LuLu. She also went on to tell me how she lost her hearing when she was in a car accident at the age of 4, at which time her mother lost her ability to walk and her father lost his life. She had certainly been through her fair share of struggles. With every word that she spoke, I stared deep into her eyes and concentrated on all of her beauty. She was sitting only a few feet away from me, cuddled up in the corner with Mrs. Peterson's big white teddy bear, staring right back into my eyes. I didn't care that she was cuddled up with a gift that should have been in some other woman's hands, nor did she seem to care that I ate half of her chocolates. We seemed to be genuinely enjoying each other's company. At this point, one more important bit of information still needed to be revealed: whether or not she was in a relationship. I had finally felt comfortable asking the question, but just as I was about the write it down...BAM!!! The lights went out and emergency lights were illuminated. The elevator shook violently, then suddenly began to freefall before coming to a very sudden halt. I looked over to find Kelly lying flat on the floor, crying hysterically. Quite startled myself, I collected my thoughts and came to the conclusion that we obviously did not fall all the way to the ground floor. I quickly went into action to get help. I got the doors open slightly, only to find that there was solid concrete walls as far up and as far down as I could see. The emergency call button was not functioning, and I found that my cell phone had no reception. We were trapped, but I wasn't going to panic. I was actually quite pleased with the situation. I knelt next to Kelly, trying my best to calm her and help her up from the floor. As I pulled her into a sitting position, she was shaking uncontrollably and still crying hysterically. I put my arms around her to calm her, but it didn't seem to help much. I continued to hold her close, when suddenly I noticed a puddle of fluid running across the floor. It became apparent that she was so badly startled that she accidentally peed. Understandably, she was so embarrassed that she wouldn't lift her head to look at me. I picked up the pen and paper again and wrote: SWEETY, THERE IS NO REASON TO BE EMBARRASSED. THAT WAS THE SCARIEST FUCKING THING EVER. HERE, FEEL MY HEART. I slid the piece of paper onto her lap then raised her hand to my chest. My heart was beating like never before. She read the paper, then looked up into my eyes and said with a mild smile, "I like that you aren't afraid to use the word FUCK to express how you feel." Then she let out a sigh and a laugh, "but I can't believe I pissed all over that woman's teddy bear." I hadn't realized it, but the bear was lying right in the stream of urine and there was certainly a hint of a yellow stain forming. I didn't care about that though, all I cared about at the moment, was Kelly. I reached over and broke off one of the roses from the bouquet, leaned towards her and said slowly and clearly, "Don't worry about that. It was probably for someone who wouldn't appreciate it anyway." Then I put my free hand up to her face, pushed her hair back and placed the rose behind her ear. "There you go. A beautiful rose for the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." Her response to that was a gigantic smile, then a deep, hard, passionate kiss. I reciprocated by slowly pushing my tongue into her mouth. I don't know what happened, but I guess my tongue flipped a switch in her. She got up onto her knees and started to pull my tucked shirt from my pants, then undid my belt. When she pulled my shirt up over my head, I think she was surprised by my solid build. She began running her tongue all over my neck, chest and arms, while caressing my ass strongly with her hands. I was completely aroused. I looked down and I swear I could see my rock hard dick pulsating in my pants. I dropped back down low so that I could do the same to Kelly. I quickly pulled her sweater up over her head, revealing the silky white bra that seemed to be overflowing with her titties. Before I even had the chance, she reached behind her back and unhooked the strap. As the bra dropped to the floor, so did my jaw. I couldn't believe my eyes. She had the most perfect tits; probably about a 36C, perky and firm, not sagging at all; and beautiful Ritz-sized, dark pink nipples that I could perfectly place my lips around. The touch of my tongue on Kelly's soft nipples caused her to start moaning quite loud. She probably doesn't realize how loud she moans, but I didn't care. I don't know how long I actually spent sucking and rubbing those amazing boobs, but I would have gone on forever if she didn't eventually push me away. As I fell to floor from the slight force of her gentle shove, I could see the intensity of lust in her glaring blue eyes. She immediately dropped her hands into my lap to unbutton my pants and drop my zipper. I was completely overwhelmed by the situation. How did this all happen. Then I started to worry that as soon as she got my pants down, I was going to explode. I hadn't felt the touch of a woman, especially one so beautiful, in well over a year. Hell, at that point, I probably hadn't even masturbated in nearly a month, because I had been so busy with school and work. Before I could get my train of thought back on track, she had my pants and boxers pull down around my ankles and was lying there between my legs with her mouth inches from the head of my dick. Just the visual stimulation almost caused me to release all over her face. I took a deep breath and used every bit of restraint to contain myself. She then stuck her tongue out of her mouth so far that the pointed end of it softly dug into the opening of my piss hole to remove the bit of cummy fluid that had built up. What came next was the most amazing thing I had ever experienced. She spread her lips and swallowed the entire length of my prick in one quick gobble. Now, I'm no John Holmes, but the length and girth of my dick seemed like a little too much to be taken in such a way. I knew I was going to have no chance of lasting once she started gliding her lips slowly up and down my fully extended shaft. After about 30 seconds, I couldn't hold on any longer. I gave my typical verbal warning of "Oh Fuck, I'm going to cum", but totally dumb to the fact that she wouldn't hear me say that, she continued until I was pumping multiple shots of my warm load into the back of her throat. She paused, holding my prick in her mouth as she allowed my balls to empty. When she pulled her mouth off of me and looked into my eyes, I felt a bit ashamed of my quick release. I placed my hands on her soft cheeks and slowly mouthed the words, "You are amazing. I am so sorry I came so quick." She smiled and lowered her head. To my complete surprise, she spit a large glob of my jizz onto her tits. "Don't think that we are even close to being done, Thomas." She then used her hand to smear my cum between her lovely boobs before pressing them firmly around my still hard cock. I had never titty fucked a girl before that moment, so this was something completely new and amazing to me. Part of me was tempted to grab my cell phone to video record the moment, but I wasn't sure how she might react to that. So, I just leaned back and enjoyed the display of Kelly's wonderful marshmallow yams sliding up and down the length of my rock solid dick. Every time the head of my prick would pop out through the top of her cleavage, her mouth was there waiting to suck it in. I could feel that sensation growing in my nuts again, so I had to make a decision, and fast. I gently grabbed Kelly's head and tilted it up so that she could read my lips. "I want to fuck you so bad right now," I said without hesitation. It was kind of strange to see her blush when I said that, considering what we had already done to that point, but it was also kind of cute and innocent. Kelly stood up, unlatched the strap from the buckle at the side of her skirt and lowered the zipper enough so that she could slide it down her legs. I just watched in amazement as she wiggled her body until the skirt hit the floor. There she was, standing there in just a red silk thong and her thigh high, black stockings. Her body was as flawless as any I had ever seen, even more so than any celebrity or supermodel. As she hooked her thumbs into the sides of her thong to lower them, I quickly jumped up to a kneeling position and stopped her. "No, I will do that." I said as I stared lustfully up into her eyes. I slowly slid my hands from her calves up to the back of her thighs. As my hands got closer and closer to the top of her stockings, I could feel the warm dampness of her urine. Some guys may have been grossed out by that, but for some reason, I found it to be a complete turn on. Once my hands reached her ass, I massaged her tight cheeks as I pulled her crotch closer to my face. I dug my nose into the soaked material of her thong and could smell that tantalizing sent of her womanly fluids. As I grinding my nose and mouth around the soft mound of flesh beneath her panties, Kelly let out a roaring moan. I can't imagine that I had made her cum already, but perhaps she did merely from the anticipation of my touch. When I rolled the straps of her thong down over her hips and ass, I was again blown away by the fact that she was completely shaven. The smooth skin of her pussy lips was glistening with her lady juices. I started by running my tongue through her folds to get a nice gathering of cum into my mouth. Once the tip of my tongue found the small bump of her clit, she started to quiver and moan more and more. She ran her fingers into my hair and pulled my mouth tighter to her pelvis so that she could grind her entire pussy all over my lips, nose and chin. When I tried to breathe in, no air entered my lungs. I didn't care though, if I was going to suffocate, this was the way to go. She was so wet, that there were squishing and swishing sounds like I had never heard, especially from eating a girl out. After one final vocal explosion, Kelly pulled my head from between her legs and I simply looked up with a smile as I licked her sweetness from around my lips. I could feel her cum dripping from my chin, down my neck and onto my shoulders and chest. Never before was I able to get a woman off in such a way. I felt like the king of the world. She dropped down to a squatting position to give me a deep, passionate kiss. When she pulled her mouth slightly away from mine, she asked softly, "Do you have a condom?" Lust? In an Elevator 'FUCK' I instantly said to myself in my head. I used to always carry condoms in my messenger bag or backpack, but it had been so long since I needed one, that I removed them all and placed them in my night stand next to my bed. When I didn't respond right away, I think she knew the answer. A bit a disappointment entered our facial expressions for a moment, until she looked down at my still-throbbing hard-on. "Just promise not to cum in me. Ok?" she said very sternly. Like a total dork, I gave her a thumbs up and said "Ok, I promise." Kelly instructed me to lay down on the floor, so I placed my jacket beneath me as she straddled my prone body. I jumped slightly when I felt her cold hand touch the burning flesh of my cock, just as she lowered herself onto me. Despite how drenched and lubed her pussy was from her flowing juices, she still had a little bit of trouble passing my thick head through the tight opening of her hole. But once I was in, we were both in heaven. I stared up at her so that I could see her facial expressions change with each plunge onto my satisfied prick. I had to prove to her that I was no slouch and that I can take control too. So I laid her on her back, positioned myself between her legs and began to slam my cock in and out of her like a wild animal. This drove her over the edge. She began squirming like crazy and I could feel splashes of her fluids flying everywhere with each aggressive stab back into her. She was screaming at the top of her lungs, "Fuck me! Fuck me harder!" and "Oh God yes, I'm cumming." My cock couldn't take anymore. I was overcome by the reckless abandon of all that we had done, and I was just going to unload my seed into her pussy...but then, my common sense kicked in and I realized that would be the kiss of death. After about 5 more solid pumps, I popped my dick from her tightened twat and shot stream after stream of cum onto her flat stomach and mountainous tits. I stayed propped above her as she reached down and milked the last few drops of jizz from my softening dick. We were both panting heavily as we looked over each other's sweat and cum glazed bodies. I know that what I was mostly feeling at that moment was lust, but a part of me felt like there was surely a connection of love as well. Just as I was about to lean down and give Kelly a deep kiss of appreciation, the emergency lights clicked off and the normal lights came back on. Startled, Kelly quickly jumped up and began throwing her clothes back on, without even taking the time to wipe away my sticky cum from all over her body. She threw my clothes back at me, urging me to get dressed quickly. As we continued to dress, I heard a clear but far away voice say, "Hey! Is there anyone in the elevator down there?" Obviously, Kelly could not hear the call of rescue, so I stood there in silence for a moment. I really did not want the moment to end. I could have stayed in that elevator with her all day. Then I realized that she would not be pleased if she found out that I passed up the opportunity to get us out of there. I tapped her shoulder and pointed up. Then I placed my hands to my mouth to amplify my voice, "Yes, there are two of us down here." "Stay calm. We are correcting the problem as we speak. It should only be a few more minutes." The voice replied. "They are going to get us out of here. Only a few more minutes." I mouthed in Kelly's direction. As she stood there adjusting and straightening her clothes, so that it looked like she didn't just spend the last 40 minutes getting fucked, I stepped towards her and leaned in for a kiss. She turned her head so that I would miss her lips and land on her cheek. I was confused. "What's wrong?" I asked. "That was the most amazing experience of my life. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever been with." She just stood there with an indistinguishable expression on her face. I could tell she was dealing with a lot of emotion at that moment, but I couldn't begin to guess why. "I want to see you again, and I won't take no for an answer." I demanded. But again, no reply. Instead, she reached into her purse and pulled out a handful of napkins to wipe up the small puddle of from the floor. While she did this, I picked up my pen and paper to write down my phone number and email address. Then she picked up the stained teddy bear and laid it on the floor next to my feet. "I'm so sorry, I ruined the teddy bear. Here, let me pay you whatever it costs." I kicked the bear to the corner and placed my hands on her shoulders, "I don't care about that, and no, I don't want any money for it. I just want the guarantee that I will see you again." I slid my hand down her side and placed the piece of paper into her coat pocket. "Here, if you ever want to get in touch with me, and I pray to God that you do, here is how you can reach me." Just as I finished my statement, the elevator started moving again. To my surprise, she leaped back into my arms to give me one last deep kiss. As she stepped away again, she started to say, "You are so amazing too. There is just something I should have..." But before she could finish her sentence, the elevator door opened. We were finally at our destination, and there was quite a gathering of people waiting for us in the lobby. I guess the building manager and one of the elevator maintenance people were there to make sure we were okay and to explain what had happened. I heard nothing of what they said because my total concentration was on Kelly. I watched as she walked across the lobby to be greeted with a hug and a kiss from a handsome, well groomed, well dressed gentleman. As they stood close to each other, they began communicating using sign language. My heart fell to my feet as I stood there holding a pee stained bear and Mrs. Peterson's withering roses. I felt like a bit of a fool. Part of me wanted to run out of the building at that moment, but I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't at least walk over and say good bye to Kelly, even if it was possibly to be the last thing I ever said to her. I sat the tarnished gifts on the floor and made my way across the lobby. As I got closer, the man looked towards me, prompting Kelly to turn around and look as well. I approached with an extended hand and said slowly, "I just wanted to say Good Bye, Kelly. It was truly a pleasure to meet you." She stood there like a deer in headlights for a moment, and then said with an apologetic expression, "Tom, this is my boyfriend Greg." I shook the man's hand. "And Greg, this is Tom. This is the kind gentleman who kept my sanity while we were stuck in the elevator", she mentioned, using both her voice and sign language. Greg said something kind back to me, but I have no idea what. For that brief moment, I had felt like had I become deaf to the world. Not wanting to impose any more, I snapped back to reality, and was just about to walk away, when Kelly stopped me to give me one last innocent hug. "Happy Valentine's Day Thomas. I will never forget this day," she whispered in my ear before turning away. ........................ Now, if you think this was just another story about a crazy hook up, and it sadly ends right here...well, you're wrong. ........................ Over the next few weeks, I received several text messages from Kelly telling me how she missed me, how amazing I was and how she couldn't stop thinking about me. After about a month, she informed me that she had broken up with her boyfriend Greg. Not long after, we started hanging out a lot and eventually ended up dating. Kelly and I have been together now for nearly two years and never before have I been so deeply in love with someone. Over that time, I have secretly been taking a sign language class at the university. It has been hard for me to restrain from signing too much, but the little that I do use, I just claim I learned from her. This Valentine's Day I plan on professing my eternal love for Kelly and I'm going to ask her to marry me, only I am going to do it using only sign language. I just pray to God that she signs back...YES! Lust in an Elevator Friday morning began as every other weekday, with Vanya waiting for the elevator in her office building's lobby. She flipped her long dark hair back as she shifted her large handbag from one hand to another, shrugging out of her linen jacket. She absentmindedly brushed at the front of her low-slung skirt, trying to rid the silky fabric of the light creases caused from sitting during her train ride to work. She was softly tugging at her tunic top, straightening its side slits when she heard the soft ding announcing the elevator's arrival as it came up from one of the sub-basements, already filled with a number of people who parked their cars in the building's underground parking lot. As she stepped into the elevator, her breath caught slightly in her throat as she spotted Eric towards the back of elevator in one of the corners. He was the IT manager for Vanya's firm - handling all sorts of computer and tech issues. He was also a very handsome man that Vanya often found herself daydreaming about. Short dark brown wavy hair and even darker eyes. Tall, on the lean side. Masculine build. Something as simple as faded jeans, desert boots and an espresso brown collar-less button-down shirt looked absolutely sinful on him. The top buttons of his shirt today were undone and Vanya noticed a touch of chest hair peeking from the fabric, which made her stomach do a quick flip-flop. To make matters worse... or better, they had flirted with one another recently at the firm's annual picnic and softball game. They'd gotten paired off at the batting cages on the sign-up sheets for practice for four weeks before the picnic and so were pretty comfortable in close proximity of each other, the chemistry between them apparent. Smiling, she joined him near the back, excusing herself past a few people. Before she turned her back to him, she greeted him with a "Hey Eric. Happy Friday." She was rewarded with a flash of his smile at her and only for her -- a smile which made his boyish dimples deepen and only made him better-looking, somehow manly and boyish at once. "Likewise, Vanya, thank God it's Friday." It made her sigh quietly to herself as her insides fluttered, his voice saying her name in a way that she would definitely replay in her mind later when she was alone. As more people stepped into the elevator, Vanya was forced back, closer to Eric. Standing nearly in front of him, she stepped back to make more room, but caught the heel of her sandal in the tile grooves of the elevator floor, nearly falling into Eric. Eric quickly reached out and placed his hands on her hips to steady her. After a series of exchanged apologies and chuckles, a tongue-tied silence settled between them. And Eric kept his hands firmly on her hips. Instead of pushing them away or pulling away from them, Vanya luxuriated in the heated sensation they caused her to feel through the material of her short summer outfit, as well as the effect his hands were having on her quickening heartbeat and the warmth hastily spreading through her lower body. She knew she had developed a bit of a crush on him, but the way her heart was beating, you'd think she was the class wallflower being asked to prom by the varsity quarterback! Eric's own heartbeat had shot up at the mere sight of Vanya's lush figure stepping into the elevator. And the feeling of her silk-clad skin beneath his hands caused a slow blood surge below his belt. He was close enough to smell her perfume, musky and sweetly nutty, like almonds. Before he could stop the thought of "she smells good enough to eat" from manifesting itself in his brain, the bulge in his jeans heartily agreed with Eric as it pressed more and more against his zipper, as if it wanted to reach out for a taste. At first, he felt embarrassed and meant to let go of her immediately. But his hands lingered, his thumbs brushing her hip bones, with minds of their own. Seconds ticked by and the thought of letting her go seemed an impossible thing to do as he slowly became conscious of the fact that Vanya had not moved away or tried to free herself from his grasp. Eric's heartbeat increased further as his groin tightened more. He mentally debated with himself. This small taste of her body against his hands made him strangely brave in this public space as he craved more of her. Slowly, he slid his hand along her thigh, down to the end of her skirt. When his fingers touched her skin, they both gasped slightly -- his hand and her thigh both emanating waves of heat. He trailed his fingers across the hem, running them slowly against her sun-kissed skin. Hesitantly, he slowly went up her thigh, this time beneath her skirt, giving her ample time to object and move away from his efforts. Vanya could feel goose bumps forming over her entire body. It was so clandestine, so pleasant, so naughty, so delicious and honestly sooo fucking hot - she knew she should stop him, but it felt amazingly crazy and even empowering to be touched in such an erotic way during such a normally mundane activity as riding an elevator. Add to that, not being able to see his face drove her thoughts in many directions at once, as she nibbled on her lower lip, curious to see how far Eric would take this little escapade in a public place. Eric reveled in how soft her skin actually was -- he had pleasured himself more than a few times imagining her bare body lying next to him, above him, below him. Her satiny skin against his own muscled body. The temptation was too strong. He slid his fingers over her skirt, downward again along the length of her thigh, then up towards her inner thigh even more slowly, taunting her extra-sensitive skin with his long digits through the thin material. Vanya went from nibbling to biting her bottom lip in earnest from the pleasure she was deriving from Eric's touch. And when his fingers almost brushed against her hidden center, she did all she could to not cry out. As the elevator stopped yet again and the doors slid open, Eric brought his hand upwards and slipped it under her tunic top, letting his hand rest low on her slightly rounded stomach, just above the waistband of her skirt and slipped a finger under, to feel the elastic of her lace panties -- he growled deep in his throat, almost to himself, remembering how sexy she'd looked at the picnic in low-riding denim cutoffs and an old rock concert t-shirt that showed off a glimpse of her tummy every time she was at bat and swung at a pitch. Once the doors closed again, he tentatively slipped his hand beneath the elastic. Vanya's heart skipped a beat when she felt his fingers traveling down past her pubic bone until they nestled themselves into the dark curls between her thighs. Reaching her tiny cloaked pearl, he caressed her softly, longingly before slipping a finger between her lips, along the slit, taunting her hidden nub each time he stroked the length of her. Vanya closed her eyes, silently thanking the goddesses above for all the people getting on and off the elevator at so many floors. *Oh my, getting off!* She also thanked those ladies of old for the fact that her firm's offices were on the 75th floor. It had been a long time since a man had touched her and this felt so good, particularly coming from such a handsome, smart, funny, sweet and now-apparently deliciously naughty-minded guy like Eric. She kept recalling how much fun they'd had chatting and how much she enjoyed watching him play softball, watching his body like a hawk as he played shortstop. Involuntarily, her hips began to follow the rhythm of his fingers. But his other hand, still on her hip, deftly steadied her swaying hips. He could not, would not risk the other occupants of the elevator catching onto their little game. Thankfully, Vanya's large handbag and jacket hid everything he was doing to her. The elevator suddenly stopped, sending Vanya's body against Eric's. Pressed against each other, Eric could not prevent his erection from growing a bit bigger. Vanya felt it between her ass cheeks and it excited her even more, knowing how aroused he was getting from simply touching her. Feeling her nipples hardening and jutting against the lace of her bra, she wished she could feel Eric's hands on her breasts as well. But that was impossible in the elevator. So she did the only thing her lust-infected mind could think of in this situation - she stayed pressed against Eric's front and slightly parted her legs, giving Eric silent permission to continue, if he dared, with his brazen though veiled assault on her body. Keeping her eyes closed, Vanya flexed her hand around her jacket as her other hand held her handbag in a death-grip as she felt Eric unhurriedly slide his middle finger inside her. It took everything she had not to murmur "More" but Eric heard her body's encouragement nonetheless. This was insanity, she was so turned on, so moist, that Eric had no trouble slipping his longest finger deep within her. She had never experience getting so wet so quickly, she swallowed hard as her body convulsed around Eric's finger. At first, he kept his finger inside without moving, letting her adjust to the sensual invasion. Slowly, he began to thrust it in and out. With long and deep strokes, her wetness eased him further and further into her body. Eric's cock felt incredibly neglected but that didn't stop it from hardening additionally, the man's eyes closing momentarily as he took in the sensation of the warm heat of the woman before him. Trying to move nonchalantly and not bring attention to herself, Vanya lazily draped her jacket over her arm holding her bag. She let her other arm fall slowly to her side, brushing it against Eric's arm and grabbed his muscular thigh in silent ecstasy. Vanya's grip on his thigh both excited and encouraged Eric and the way she was reacting to his touch made him feel like his heart and his groin would both burst. He really wanted to please her, he was enjoying her body's reactions and imagined what sort of reaction he'd be able to coax out of her somewhere more private. Once deep inside her again, he caressed her interior walls, trying to reach and massage her G-spot, knowing full well that he'd found it when her fingernails drove into the muscled flesh of his thigh. Eric resumed his thrusts, sliding in and out of her heat deeper and faster. But then he suddenly slid out of her hot contours to caress her hidden nub with his wet finger. Vanya could feel a deep moan of frustration wanting to erupt from her throat. She flexed her neck from right to left and sighed loudly as though she were just trying to release some commuting-to-work tension. And did she need to release some tension! She felt as well as heard Eric chuckle softly in her ear at her play-acting -- that husky laugh of his did unnatural things to her, it made her shudder in frustration that just his voice and hand could undo her this way, this quickly. His nose softly brushed up the length of her neck. She could heard his amusement, realizing how badly he wanted to push free Vanya's vocal reaction from her lips, knowing that he was responsible for driving her towards the edge. In a decidedly sensual, but cruel manner, Vanya discreetly swayed her ass against Eric's crotch to share her frustrations with him. She felt a small bit of satisfaction when she felt the sinewy muscles of his arm flex against her and then felt the sharp intake of breath near her ear. What she did not expect were the two fingers he thrust into her in one deliberate move -- she barely managed to hide her surprised gasp behind a quick cough. Immediately, Eric felt her inner muscles contract around his fingers and he waited before continuing. He knew she was reaching her climax and there weren't that many floors left before arriving at their office. He put his thumb on her quickly swelling pearl and again began to slide in and out of her, trying to brush her G-spot with his knuckles. When she began trembling, Vanya lowered her head as she raised her jacket to her face, brushing her fingers against her eyes, as though massaging away a slight headache, huffing out a stuttered breathe. Eric increased his speed until he could feel her shake. Eric felt her hand tighten on his thigh almost painfully, her nails trying to gain purchase in his flesh as her knees weakened slightly. She managed to climax in silence, head down with every muscle fighting against the tortuously heady sensations plucking at every nerve ending in her body that wanted to make her scream out her bliss. Slowly sliding his fingers out, he let his hand rest on the curls below her stomach for a few seconds before removing his fingers from her panties. While they both recovered and regrouped, he rested his warm palm on her stomach, caressing her skin, lazily drawing circles around her belly button. Vanya sensually dragged her fingernails along his forearm, in silent thanks and in sympathy for his own very apparent, to her, condition. Her face was flushed after Eric's attentions and she could still feel his erection against her as she thought about how he'd satisfied her, but hadn't gotten himself off. The elevator dinged once more as its doors opened onto their office floor. Vanya straightened her outfit and pushed her damp bangs off her forehead as she stepped off. Turning slightly, she watched as Eric stepped out and reach for his cell phone from its case on his belt and strategically placed in front of a rather protruding part of his anatomy. He winked at Vanya as he raised his free hand to his lips and quickly licked and kissed the tip of his middle finger before turning his attention back to his phone as he headed towards his office. Vanya strolled away in the opposite direction, swaying slowly as she took some deep breathes to compose herself, her mind on Eric. She was really going to have to figure out a way to thank him properly... ... to be continued... ~~~~~ Lust in an Elevator (Previously submitted on a different forum) -------------- Lust in an elevator -------------- She burst into the skyscraper lobby and, after a hard swipe of her card at the security desk, she charged for the elevators. Hair tied in a bun, tailored suit and skirt, elegant yet severe glasses, the loud clicks of her heels echoed to her brisk and determined pace. This morning's presentation was to be a killer, she radiated as a message. Get out of my way, was another. This meeting was to be presented in only two weeks, but thanks to the snafu of higher executive rungs it had been rescheduled in haste for today. She seethed at the insecure corporate scrambling. Not only was she here on a Saturday morning, but she had to cancel at the last minute John's TorD invitation; an all night festivity centered on a mature version of the 'Truth or Dare' game. It could be harmless fun with some naughty confessions, or it could blow your mind away with eroticism; it all depended on the chemistry between players of that particular night. Both extremes, and the myriad of possibilities between them, were satisfying in their own right. Her eyes winced behind her rimmed glasses. And the invitations only come once or twice a year. She glanced at her watch. 9:15 AM. The party had ended not too long ago. She should have been home with tantalizing memories. Or at an early bird restaurant while she shared a cup of coffee with another guest, continuing their own private game, the simmer of an unspoken agreement between them. A hissed sigh passed her lips. But no... I had to cancel for this. She stabbed at the elevator button. Twice. Three times. At the fourth stab she almost broke her nail and relented to wait. She grounded her teeth, at least one layer of enamel being stripped away, as her eyes continued what her finger couldn't do. Not that it'll get here faster, but it gives me something to vent on. As imaginary knifings mellowed into wishes of bursting into flames, the ding of an arrival was heard. The button darkened, the only option it possessed to escape its impending doom. Finally! The doors to the leftmost elevator opened and she almost growled. As if possessed, that cabin contained a broken alarm that no handyman could repair or hear. With her luck, she'd get stuck. As she patted her cell phone for reassurance, she charged into it and into the person within. What else can go wrong? "Sorry," she mumbled, while gruff embarrassment melted her anger, as she realized she'd collided in a too-handsome cowboy. Probably it's that publicity agency on the seventh floor. "No problem M'am," was the casual reply. His response had not been warm; she had bumped into him after all. But it hadn't been cold either, as if tolerant of her irritation for a Saturday morning spent at an office. She scurried to the opposite corner of the tiny room, as she realized that her assault hadn't even budged him. Humiliation warred against annoyance as she kept her eyes to the numbered panel before her. I ran into a human wall. She pressed her thirty-second floor, and then told herself to calm down, that he hadn't earned her cold shoulder, and that she needed her sharp wits for this morning. She forced herself to relax, and then took a deep breath as the door closed. She lowered her eyelids at catching an unusual scent from him. Not a cowboy scent, nor an actor's or model's either. Patchouli, she decided, that fragrance which resembled an illegal substance, with its sweet aroma. But a spicier, muskier version of it. Manlier. Her nose enjoyed a second taste of the forbidden smoothness as it brought hazed memories of younger days, fogged-down but carefree moments where decorum and self-image hadn't weighed down sensuality. Her lips crawled upwards in remembrance; to the hot little mink she had been, always aiming to please as she aimed to be pleasured. Sweet hearts, hunks, studs, romantics, all had their individual advantages and had been appreciated as such. Her mouth's transformation completed, more than a mere hint of a smug smile was now revealed. Insatiable good old days. The memories, added to his scent, bent her head with a discreet glance at him from over the rim of her glasses. The Stetson hat shadowed his eyes into an indefinable color. A hard jaw, charactered, was softened by full lips. A fair complexion, despite being sun kissed to a tan, suggested an ease for the rise of shy colors in those cheeks. The lens supported by her nose reflected back to her the sparkle of mischievousness found in her own eyes. He blushes, to the right words, said by the right woman. The denim shirt was broad at the shoulders which were slightly thrown back, at ease yet ready to face a challenge. And they were made larger by his rigid posture, as indicated by the straight line of pearled buttons, with a mild void in the small of his back. That back had a real spine, but the backbone curved where it should, learned in the give and take of relationships in both business and hearts. Knows who he is, no more, no less. His chest stood out, not too much however, the defined mass revealed by faint shadows within the fabric. The curves of his pecs were a call to trace with a single nail, their inner firmness to be pressed and squeezed by appreciative fingertips, the unyieldingness and contained power to be sensed by respectful palms. Yet soft enough to welcome the feminine head who relished the protective might beneath. And a slow, strong, heartsong echoing in the ear. Her gaze lowered to the faint scars and calluses on his hands; a real cowboy then. Her eyes lifted again. Corded strength was within those sleeves, raising the fabric in an arc worthy of any art piece, and instilled the urge to frame with both hands a bicep #with a girlish plea for a flex. Those arms and that chest weren't chiseled in a gym, nor in a fancy sport club; life had sculpted them. Her teeth grazed the sensitive skin of her lips. Earned Muscles. Her eyes returned to the numbered panel. A discreet thigh upon thigh caress could not be resisted to the start of a warm humid reaction within her sex. A mental smile, a naughty tinted dirty while tainted with sin smile, brushed against her thoughts as she acknowledged to herself that she had kept the best for last. The boxer or brief question. She moistened the center of her lips with her tongue, swallowed while she fought the urge to glance at him again to draw out the moment, and then wetted her lips again but from corner to corner. It reminded her of the bow-tied panties she wore, one knot on each hip, a gift from her last lover a long time ago. It was a frilled and girlish private concession to the failed weekend. How sinfully fortunate a choice for today. She lost her private battle and her glasses sent their aim southwards. His jeans did not disappoint her as they cradled a very respectful bulge. The defined lines of his denim covered shaft made her palms tingle, her breath quicken, and she choked down a swallow to the loud promises whispered by her tropical arousal. Her own diminutive shaft, hidden beneath its hood at the apex of her thighs, answered the call and rose to wakefulness. My, my, my, how fast the naughty girl flares up!! She listened to the elevator music, eyes back to the panel, and tried to coax her system down to salacious excitement instead of scorched lust. The speakers teased her ears, a silent mock to her situation, with a muzak rendition of an Aerosmith classic. Much softened in its instrumental interpretation, and lyric free sanitized, it still planted the lascivious image in her mind. Love in an elevator, how suggestively appropriate. This decided her to further indulge herself. She rehearsed the moves, envisioned the results, and grasped the explicit image. Her glasses slipped down a fraction along her nose to her secretive shiver. Her hand floated above her bust, fingers waving to the tempo of the song, conducting both music and galloping heart beneath. How can it hurt? Right? Right. She moved in front of him with a curious frown, then stared at the emergency instructions with a mumble of it being a new one. His hat was felt against her bundled hair, to his sights having tilted down to her behind. She pointed her right toes, bent her knee, and slanted her head to the side as if intrigued by the safety procedures before her eyes. Thus she had stuck her left ass cheek to him, stretching the skirt for his better view, and displayed herself as Temptation. The edge of his Stetson teased her bun once more, having tapped it and almost coaxed it to be undone as if asking to let her hair down. Her hand slipped into her skirt's pocket, followed by the subtle untying of the laced knot at her hip through her pocket's fabric. She tasted her brazenness, inhaled her craziness, and enjoyed her exhilaration in small swallows with short breaths to fully appreciate its flavor and aroma. One last discreet tug and her private garment slipped from her thigh and off her mound. It hung from the last knot on the opposite hip, a cooler breeze against her fevered womanhood, and she wondered if the untied ends could be seen past the hem of her skirt. The small of her taut back, shivered, at the sinful image. Her breath gained a little speed, her fingers shook as she went into the other pocket. Her fingertips were frantic; she couldn't find the elusive strands of the last knot through the pocket's fabric. She pictured the other released ends just dangling in front of him, a dirty sway of invitation, and her teeth almost chattered to her quivering chin. Fearful victory as the knot became undone. She felt both strands part as they caressed her hip in their descent. To the deafening fall of her panties to the floor, worse than suggestive nudity beneath a dress, she became a living provocation. Breathless, ears pounding, her lip pained under her teeth. She couldn't look between her shoes, at the silk invitation lying there. She waited for his reaction. She hoped his would not be the gentleman's answer, that of picking it up for her. She would die of shame, to his refusal of meeting her on the same level, if he met her at all. His breath caressed the nape of her neck and she was startled despite herself. She ordered her heart back into her chest, from where it had leaped out from, and told her lungs to please inflate before she passed out. She was closer to a faint than she cared to be. Her hair became undone, now brushing against her skin, as her skirt began to rise. He was smooth, not having felt his fingers anywhere, yet his ghost of a presence heightened the moment. The fabric's slow ascent on her thighs fanned the cinders within her, but cooled her mound, as imaginary breezes teased her engorged lips. The insatiable mink of earlier years reasserted herself, wanton and needy, the combination of a protest to last night's missed sexy opportunity and a hurray to this new unexpected one. A corner of her lips rose, a silent snarl of determination, and took charge of her own desire. It was hers, and hers alone, so she harnessed it. She breathed her own flames stronger, higher, brighter, until it almost consumed her. Her hand was steady, but her nail shook as she reached over and pressed the stop button. The alarm forever broken, their tumultuous peace was now insured. No turning back from this moment on. The realization elevated her temperature to only a few degrees cooler than the sun's surface. She gasped as his fingertip appeared at the bottom of her sex, shivered a spine-quake of a shudder, and her glasses slipped from their perch then fell to the floor. A kind explorer he was, a gentle probe laced in respectful flirts. She knew he smiled to her already drenched passage, at her body's eager readiness for him, and she flushed to the exhilaration of her sweetened shame to his discovery. She lived the thrill of the bad girl, the saintly femme fatale, as his fingertip was drawn, kissed, and embraced by her hungry lips. Honed by the gentle but dexterous pleasure-giver deep within her honeyed inferno, waves of sensational fiery feelings radiated from the foundation of her femininity. Her passion incinerated propriety. She shot her heel in front of her, and then, as her trembling hand flew to her collar, she placed her bare foot against the wall beside her. A short breath steadied her fevered balance. With a slow, determined, provocative twist of her ankle she kicked off her other heel to join its twin. She placed an entire world of seduction into the sideways stretch of that leg away from her, as far as she could in ultimate temptation, and the result whetted her own needs. He hadn't answered this provocative show, his fingers frozen inside her. Her breath shortened, nearly hyperventilating now, yet a satisfied smile slipped on her face. She didn't know his reaction, if stunned, appreciative of the spectacle, scared, or simple surprise; but she drank the power this gave her over him. She leaned forwards and laid her trembling hands onto the emergency procedures, curved her back, stood solely on her toes and raised her hips in the warmest of welcomes. Her opened blouse hung on each side of her, hiding her chest with falling walls of fabric, yet accessible to him. She was the perfect offering, a man's dream, but one she provided to satisfy her own keened hunger for further delicious sensations. He disappeared from within her, then her skirt rose higher, over her waist, and she melted with weakened knees as her ravenous sex was exposed to his view. A slow zipping behind her, a so very slow zipping, tightened her throat as closed her eyes to better experience what this sound announced. His hands landed where her hips met her waist, her mouth dried as this preparative gesture, and dizziness threatened on the horizon of her senses. She fought against a helpless squirm, unable to wait, nerves frantic at the sadistic pause, and her entire system excited beyond a fevered pitch. She felt faint to the unholy pressure. Then he was there. Next to her. Him. It. Softness. Silky. Bulbous. Masculine. Manly. Male. His rounded key of heaven brushed against her fiery gates of paradise. She stood still, the muscles in the small of her back taut in anticipation, her private muscles contracted to her eagerness. She cooed in relief as he parted then passed her lips, all her vital organs melted then evaporated save her thudding heart, as he slipped within her. His penis was tender, patient, and gentle as he gallantly introduced himself into her pacified, now docile, and mollified vagina as she met him to better embrace him. That first slow, firm, decisive stroke told her more of his bedroom personality than an entire day of sexy confessions. Just as her soft, mild, harnessed hip grind told him as much about her character in intimacy. He was the master of his pleasure, sharing it with her, as she was the mistress her own while contributing to his. His member might provide the sensations, but it was she who took her pleasure from it. So she opened her flow of sensuality, let the stream of her eroticism run freely, and welcomed her wants and needs. She and he would be active participants, acute listeners to their inner pulses, taking and giving the passion exchanged or lent between them. A meeting of the minds, of the desires and of the urges. Within her sex her sensual bump of pure nerves was brushed against by his bulbous silky head, then felt the length of him, was caressed by it. Rubbed by him. Stopped. Rubbed, caressed, her secretive tiny mound of ecstasy felt his shaft then was followed by his smooth rounded tip. It was repeated all over again. Then another followed. Once more. A delicious unhurried rhythm began. Two slow exhalations to each's voyage, his sliding exploration of her heated inner depth, her molded discovery of his rigid outer length. She willed her sleek interior to cocoon him, comfort him, to make himself at home in her femininity. His erection became personified fulfillment, to soothe her, to indulge herself as she pleased with his offered masculinity. And she did. She escaped his incoming strokes as she pursued his retreating ones, all to prolong the sensation and heighten their enjoyment. Faint, weak kneed, within her arched spine pleasure chased desire. Her palms were sweaty, slipping from the elevator wall. Her consciousness floated, spiraled upwards, and couldn't lift her eyelashes which were heavy with languid torpor. His grip shifted her pelvis higher. With her back arched, her hips at their highest, balance became delicate. She was suspended on his erection, on her hands pressed to the wall, on his hold on her waist. On her tippiest of tippytoes, she stood only on half of her toe pads. She hung her head with a quivering exhalation, then her breath caught, as his slide became perfect, her glide flawless. She had gained that last measure of his length, his hardened arousal plunged at a sublime angle with a firmer massage of her hidden spot, her tightened wetness now more pronounced; all sensations were multiplied into a vivid image of his presence within her mind. She surrendered to the precarious position, unable to resist its effect on her charged system. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, her calves vibrated to the strain, and her hard breath shortened into loud pants. Back and forth he stroked her sex, her passion, her flames, and her loss of control. Her fingers crisped, her heightened perceptions pleaded for less as her sharpened senses begged for more, and clawed at the panel to the surreal intensity. Her tummy contracted, her limbs became vibrating stone to their tautness. Her pores tingled with unreleased orgasmic energy, her skin almost bursting at the seems. She was moments away, and she choked on a gasp by a voice strangled from the power of it. He slowed. Insanity. He coaxed her building climax to mind numbing levels, yet without releasing her, as he further decelerated. Maddened insanity. She whimpered as she squirmed, the wait unholy, the loss of her ability to speak --to plead- was devilish. Crazed maddened insanity. His slowest plunge was torture. She felt his every vein, his every fold of his skin, every tiny detail of him. That edged rim so round, so soft, and so smooth as it caressed her walls. His precise shape burned itself into her brain. He was still master of his pleasure. She was now slaved to hers, unthinking, all restraints evaporated and control relinquished to her body. A body slowly sexed in all of its mind-shattering glory. His silken head left her completely, leaving her empty, alone. She began a wordless cry of denial, but he pushed forwards again, and it brought out a feminine grunt which had risen from deep within her throat. His erection crawling within her, he hit that sensitive mound again, triggering her climax, and she fell into the abyss of her accumulated ecstasy as it engulfed her. Sunlight poured into her veins, warmed her blood to her fingertips, flooded her mind with eroticized bliss; drowned in the beauty of the most primal form. She shivered, shuddered, then trembled, as he continued to caress her passage with his engorged length. Her ongoing, unbroken, mindless cry reverberated in the cabin. Her mind gone, somewhere high above, living pleasure coursed in her soul. Inching within, he filled her offered space, snuggled his erection into her warm folds, and her cry became a scream as she exploded again. Still he edged forwards, further explored her. Then he laid still. She choked on a sob of relief, her molding of his presence so utterly complete, she knew nothing but him and her. She tasted the sweat on her bitten lips. Saw the blur of her four hands on the wall. Felt the sweet pain of her ribs to her struggled panting. Ears pounded to her racing heart. Elevated toes cramped. Back strained to her highest peaks of head and romp. He pulsated within her; she felt her beating tissue around him. Raw throated, his retreat would be heavenly excruciation, and leave her voiceless. If not mute in overdosed pleasure. Lust in an Elevator His erection withdrew and she died. She lost time and coherence, entered the feminine dimension reserved solely to women as she burst again, in consecutive waves of bliss. He pulled, ever slower. She banged her palms on the panels in desperation, helpless, lacking the strength to withstand the insane pace and unable to survive the heightened moment. Her private inner self was frenzied chaos. Feminine frenzied chaos. Her mad contractions of his masculinity. Her feverish squeezes of his manhood. Her crazed massages of his male presence. All her signs as a maiden. Every fiber in her being, from curled fingertips to shaky toes, drumming heart to tightened sex, celebrated her feminine heritage. That she was pure woman. He gained size within her, his moment at hand. Her arms pushed against the wall before her with her remaining strength, a female roar in her veins, and drove him back where he belonged. She felt him explode as he tightly filled her again, the fiery tandem climax rushing through their bodies, as twinned broken screams of pleasure escaped from their lips. She floated, weightless, on a burning cloud of sweet incoherence lit by sunbeams of ecstasy. She plummeted from the skies, rationality seeping back, as she felt that throbbing of his member; that last touch which capped the moment. Pant on her lips from her strained lungs, sting in her eyes from her sweat, shakes in her arms and legs from her exhaustion, her spirit soared as an orgasmic afterglow seeped into her every cell. The world was splendid, a haze, and wondrous. He slipped away, escaped her. She turned her head over her shoulder in a half-protest, her whimpered groan of denial hanging from her lips, but the real world beckoned. It drew her back further, with hurried rearrangements, their exchanged fiery tempest only a burned memory now. Ding. Her eyes snapped open. In front of her, the previously lit number 21 became dark. Twenty first floor, the rancher's association. Breathless, she saw the door open. She pushed her glasses back up her nose, as her other hand lowered quivering fingers to her heart, felt her racing pulse through her blouse. She swallowed the excess moistness in her mouth, squeezed her thighs to the other excessive dampness between them. He stepped out, all powered grace in denim, and she fought against the ultimate spine-quake of a shiver. Lord have mercy. He paused, turned to her, and flashed a high voltage smile that jolted her system by its brilliance. "Try to have a good day M'am." The doors closed before she could steady her voice, or even form a reply. Then a warm smug smile blanketed her lips. It already is, thanks to you cowboy. The end Author's note: I am unsure myself if this is her salacious fantasy or her shameless reality. *Slow Wink* It's to your preference then, isn't it? So please vote, but also post a comment below as to whether you felt / believed that this was her fantasy or if this truly happened to her.