Sandy moved back to the corner of the elevator as the two young black men stepped through the open doors. Her pulse quickened and her mind raced. She hated judging people she didn't know but they were both dressed like thugs, with baggy, sagging jeans and tight tank tops. They were both loud and boisterous, two traits the quiet midwestern born mother of three abhorred. The hairs on the back of Sandy's neck stood at attention while she kept her head down and pressed her back against the cold mirrored back wall.
The elevator doors closed and the heavyset brunette closed her pretty brown eyes for a moment, doing her best to relax as she struggled with her irrational fears. Sandy hated two things more than anything: confined spaces and elevators. Her breathing was deep and steady and her big, natural f cup breasts heaved.
"We got to get to the club quick before this Molly kicks in yo," the taller, darker man said. He wasn't a bad looking guy despite his tattoos and hardened smile. He had long dreadlocks framing a pleasant face with intelligent eyes and a strong muscular body. His thick arms were well defined and adorned with a myriad of monochromatic prison type tattoos. A thick gold chain was draped around his strong neck and his ebony flesh seemed to glisten from a fine sheen of sweat.
"No shit, my boy said this is some good shit Bro. Somebody's getting fucked tonight," the shorter man replied with a somewhat menacing smile. He was less attractive than his friend but he was far from ugly. His round head was shaved smooth and he had a surprising warmth in his smile. He was nearly 6 inches shorter than the man with dreadlocks but he looked stronger with broad, square shoulders and huge tattoo covered arms. Unlike the man with dreadlocks the shorter man had a few colorful tattoos on his milk chocolate colored flesh and Sandy discretely admired the intricacy of his body art. She wasn't generally a fan of tattoos but she could appreciate well done artwork.
Sandy felt her cheeks warm and she chewed nervously on her bottom lip as the two men spoke openly about sex. She inhaled deeply. Her hands started to shake and she focused her attention on the two well-built men in front of her to quell her rising fears.
The elevator shuddered and Sandy squeaked like a frightened mouse. Her pulse quickened and her eyes narrowed, zooming in on a particularly vivid tattoo on the left shoulder of the shorter bald man's back. It depicted a nearly naked woman with big bare breasts and generous curves. The woman was build almost like Sandy but with a more rounded butt and a narrower waist.
The elevator lurched to a halt and they were plunged into darkness making Sandy screech in terror. The only thing worse than a small elevator car was a small dark one and she whimpered like a frightened puppy as the pale emergency light glowed to life.
The room was spinning and tears formed in the corner of the terrified woman's eyes. Her fear of small spaces had been born when she was eight and she and her mother had been forced to huddle in a small storm cellar as a tornado destroyed their Illinois farm house. No one in her family had lost their life but their house had been leveled and all of their possessions had been summarily destroyed.
She squeezed her fists and tried to relax. Her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the stalled elevator car and she pressed her body tight against the wall. The mirror felt cool through the thin silk of her blouse and she focused on the sounds in the small space. The mechanical creaks and ticks of elevator freaked her out and she then directed her attention to the smells in the car. The faint scent of the two men was oddly appealing and she breathed deep drawing it into her lungs. It wasn't cologne but their natural aroma. It was light but musky and it had a profound effect on the cute married woman's needy body. It had been nearly a month since Sandy and her husband had been intimate. When she and Mack were first married they'd been like rabbits. Even then Sandy's libido had surpasses her husband's but he'd done enough to sate her often ravenous appetite. She'd always been a very sexual person. She had developed young and had her first boyfriend at 13. He'd been an older boy, in high school, and he'd taken her virginity before she was out of middle school. From then on she had loved sex but after three kids and with both Sandy and Mack working they were usually too tired during the week and too busy on weekends.
Sandy heard the emergency phone ring and watched the taller man pick it up. He spoke clearly and nodded slowly as he listened.
"Mother fucker," he said angrily. "God damn power's out all over town. No clue what's up but we could be here all god damn night."
"Man fuck dis shit, someone needs to get my big black dick yo," the tall man said loudly. "How 'bout you sugar, you want some dick?"
Sandy's cheeks flushed and she giggled nervously. "I think I'm good thanks," she replied softly.
"Why not?" He teased as he rubbed his crotch. "You don't like black guys?"
"It's not that, no," she answered honestly. "I'm married for one thing." She felt uncomfortable with the topic of conversation but she was grateful for the distraction because it took her mind off of her claustrophobia.
"You ever gone black Baby," he said moving slightly closer as his friend stood silently beside them, also rubbing his crotch.
"No," Sandy replied. She had grown up in a small town with very few black people.
"Ever thought about it?" He asked in a deep smooth voice. He had an almost hypnotic cadence and a soothing tone.
"If course," she replied. She had been attracted to several black boys before she'd met her husband and she'd even gone on a date with one black boy in college though she'd never told any of her friends back home or her husband about that. Mack was a bit of a racist and most of her friends in Illinois would have judged her poorly if they'd known.
