When The Elevator Suddenly Stops

I stood in the elevator, Muzak in my ears and the drowsy scent of perfume in my nostrils. The elevator belonged to an exclusive downtown office building - the kind with a marble floor in the foyer that goes on for longer than you can hold your breath. The perfume belonged to the elegant lady lawyer who had stepped out with silk stockinged legs at the twenty-fifth in her hi-powered red suit and Manolo Blahniks. I didn't belong anywhere in this building. I was only there to meet a friend.

The elevator stopped only a couple of floors short of the penthouse. The doors opened and the Muzak kept going - Coolio played on some Binatone electronic harpsichord. The lobby was empty except for another business lady - younger this time - in short black skirt and hounds tooth check jacket - carrying a leather briefcase. She stepped into the privacy of the elevator and I was suddenly aware of how scruffy I must look in my jeans and leather car coat. The air was sweet with a new perfume - a muskier, more intoxicating blend. I shuffled my feet.

"Thirty, please", she said. Two floors further up. I didn't have to touch a button. Thirty was were I was going too. The doors closed. We both looked at the floor. The lift started and then stopped again, moments later. We both looked at each other - I tried a smile, shrugged my shoulders as if to say ,"All the money in this building and they can't even get the lifts to work properly." She didn't say a thing. Nothing happened - and seemed to take a long time about it. We both sneaked glances at each other a couple more times - becoming gradually less and less sure how to handle the situation - until she finally strode over to the emergency phone and pulled it out of its cabinet. She held it to her ear.

"Engaged!", she said. "How the fuck can an emergency telephone be engaged?" She held it out to me so I could hear the tone.

"Beats me," I said, "Maybe all the elevators have stopped and they've only got one phone line?"

"Maybe," she looked angry. "Fucking typical. How many elevators do you think they have in this building?"

"There were six sets of doors in the lobby."

"Six! We could be here for hours." She looked at me again - a little less angry now - and something seemed to crackle in the air between us like static electricity. She bent to place her briefcase on the floor, affording me a pleasant view of her cleavage between the open top buttons of her white blouse. She straightened up, hands on hips and looked across at me - and this time there was a look in her eyes - the kind Moll Flanders might have worn when she first sashayed into the palace and curtsied in front of Charles II. "So what do you suggest we do to pass the time?"

My mouth was dry - but I managed to crack a smile and a half-assed answer - "How about a game of Eye-Spy?"

"Eye Spy?," she said - half-laughing - as she sashayed across the elevator carpet - she didn't curtsy, she just knelt, on a pair of pretty knees, tugging her skirt up slightly. "I think we can do better than that." She had one hand behind, holding me steady while the other worked at belt and fastenings and then I felt the sudden shocking coolness of the elevator air conditioning and then - more shocking still - her gentle fingers as she stroked me erect. She used both hands, quickly, to pull my jeans down far enough to bring me all the way out and then I had both hands against the wall behind me to keep myself steady because she was kissing the head and lovingly taking me into her mouth.

She took me all the way in and then slowly worked me out again, holding me like a popsicle , she licked me all around and up and down. I moved one hand onto the back of her head - moving with her, following her rhythm of licking and sucking and lips and kisses - a slow and deliberate rhythm - like a tango between her lips and my cock but too slow for my growing excitement so I pulled her to her feet and tugged at the fastenings of blouse and jacket - buttons popped before I had them off and forgotten on the floor and I was kissing her with the hunger of a dying man on a ventilator - trying to suck hot and passionate breath out of her throat and into my lungs and all the time backing her against an elevator wall - her arms around my neck - my free hand pushing her skirt up around her waist - stroking slim thighs in stockings - feeling the electrifying Morse code transmitted to my minds eye by my finger tips touching firm flesh inside tight silk - her moan, hoarse in my ear - when I found the elastic of her panties and pulled it down hard - her behind and thighs yielding, letting my fingers urgently caress her until she opened with a sigh and I slipped two fingers inside her - feeling her moisture as I pushed my fingers in and out.

We were standing awkwardly and my busy arm was trapped between the wall and her back so after a few more impassioned squirms we separated, panting, looking each other up and down with tousled eyes. She took the hand and fingers that had been inside her and licked and sucked them sensuously - her eyes never leaving mine.

When she had finished - I stripped, in front of her - carefully and deliberately. When I had finished she started to do the same - unclasping her brassiere at the back to let her proud creamy breasts, tipped with raspberry nipples, swing free - unzipping her skirt and stepping out of that and then her white lace panties - she kicked her clothes to one side with a high heeled shoe and faced me with her hands on hips - the same pose she had struck moments before - only now she wore nothing other than a white lace suspender belt, dark stockings and high heels. And I was naked as a newborn with my cock standing proud in front of me.

I looked at her for a second longer - drinking this vision in - the beauty of this naked woman - the blunt sexuality of her pose in fuck-me pumps - such an unashamed display - the dark triangle of her sex between stockinged thighs was manna for my hungry eyes - all this nubility made my head swim like only good scotch can. But only for a second.

Then I reached out to bring her to me and kissed her hard. Her naked body writhed against me until I turned her around and pulled her down onto her hands and knees - with her perfect, peaches and cream behind in the air - I stroked her moist slit with my fingers finding her open enough and moist enough to take one finger and then another. When I slid in a third she gasped and moved her hips - pushing against my hand. I fucked my fingers in and out - slowly at first - and then faster - occasionally pulling out to slip my hand between her thighs, reaching higher up to rub her clitoris. I repeated the cycle of stroking and touching and rubbing and fucking - using the same rhythm she had when she was sucking my cock - until she was nibbling the flesh at the top of one arm with her teeth. Then I slipped my cock into her to a depth of half my length.

She moaned, turning her head to look at me over her shoulder and licking her lips. I moved gently - in and out - going no further than half my length until - suddenly - gripping her hips hard - I slammed my cock into her - piston fucking fast - she half screamed, half moaned and rammed her behind into me - matching my rhythm - coming up on my downstroke - her shoulders shook as she thrust backwards - using every lithe, taut muscle in her perfect body to drive her hips against me - impaling herself on my length - hard - fast - I reached round in front of her and touched her clitoris again - we slowed our mutual rhythm just enough to allow me to finger her in front while I was fucking her from behind.

Until I could feel the first spasms in her hips - her rhythm changing - becoming even more frantic - we were electricity - conducted between poles by a pool of lubricity - generator sparking - dynamo turning faster and faster - until I could I could feel that lightning running down my spine to my cock - batteries charging - meter levels redlining - spilling over until I felt the muscles in the walls of her pussy jerk and spasm at the same time as my cock jerked and spasmed - we came together with the synchronicity of parallel circuits - the wild lightning of come discharged to earth safely in her welcoming pussy. I

I don't know how long we lay there afterwards on the elevator carpet until she raised her head - her face flushed with joy at our fucking. "We won't have much longer," she said.

"I know," I said. We dressed slowly on shaky legs and not long afterwards the elevator shuddered into life. She looked at me and smiled.

"How much did you give him?," I said.

"One hundred dollars," she said.

It had always been one of my fantasies to fuck a smart dressed business woman in an elevator. Lucky for me - my girlfriend loves playing games and fulfilling my fantasies. And she works as a P.A. for an expensive legal firm in a smart downtown office block. And the lift engineer was a varsity letterman at our high school before he got kicked off the team. He'd been devoted to my girlfriend ever since she gave him a private viewing of her new cheerleading routine - with nothing on beneath her miniskirt. Once the lift was back on he ground - I walked out of that office block whistling a very happy tune.