Elevator Revenge

Just a short story.

That motherfuckin' white boy was staring at her again. Fuckin' pervert would just go into a trance looking at her ass. Then last week he had talked just a little too loud and she had heard him say to one of his buddies, "Damn... look at the shitter on that critter..."

Keisha worked in an office on the 69th floor of the building, along with a couple hundred other folks including the latest perv to be infatuated with her ass. Of course it felt good to be noticed, but if she wanted to move up in the company she could not permit herself to be objectified and sexualized. She knew how to make it so guys like this were afraid to even look at her. It was time for white boy to experience operation elevator.

Keisha knew she should not blame them for looking, but she did. She was blessed with the perfect tone of mocha colored skin, and her flesh was smooth and supple. She had a bright smile which stopped conversations, and perfect hair. She had just right C cup breasts, a narrow waist, flat tummy, muscular legs, and yes, a perfect ass. She knew all of this. Her backside was what "I like big butts" was sung about... she had a badonkadonk, an ass that wouldn't quit.

She was not bothered by the occasional appreciative glance, it was to be expected and it was ego boosting. But when they lost their fuckin' minds and just stared, transfixed, she had to put a stop to it.

So on Friday afternoon she put her plan into action. She had done it before, and knew it worked. Just before quitting time she made her way to the ladies room to change. It was her habit to stop off at the second floor gym on the way out to get a workout in before going home.

As she passed by the perv's desk, sure enough he could not help watching her strut by. She stopped, leaned over his desk (which displayed her cleavage to him) and quipped, "Why don't you take a picture? It would last longer." Then she walked away before he could answer. But she had initiated her plan... he had been called out and probably was sporting a little boner under his desk.

When she came back out after changing, she was wearing a workout halter top which was essentially a sports bra. It lifted and separated the girls so they would not rub together during her exercise... it also accentuated her cleavage. She did not bother with a t-shirt over it, so her flat tummy and belly button, the curvature of her back, were all on display. Hell, she turned lots of heads.

Then to top it off, she wore black leggings which not only fit her form perfectly, they spread her ass cheeks the same way the bra divided her tits. She might as well be naked, but she wasn't. She could not blame the non-pervy guys for glancing her way as she walked by.

She approached the elevator, which was being held open by a manager to get as many employees aboard as possible. Very predictably, her admirer was already aboard, standing against the back wall so he would be able to take in her backside during the trip down. Normally she would stand as far forward as possible, by the doors. But today she stepped directly in front of him, then turned around following the unwritten elevator protocol of facing forward. She could almost hear him catch his breath at having her so close.

The good thing about working on the 69th floor were the spectacular views of the city and the mountains beyond. Keisha had managed to wrangle a cubicle with a window, and she loved looking out and planning her weekends taking advantage of nature.

The bad thing about working so high up in the building was that even with six elevators, it took forever to get out of the building on a Friday afternoon when everyone wanted out at once. The elevator would fill quickly. But there was no way for the thousands of employees to know that. So the elevator car ended up stopping on nearly every damned floor just for the doors to open, those who had called it to realize it was already full, then the doors would close and the journey would continue. If they were lucky they might skip two floors before stopping again.

On their first stop... on 68... there was still room if they would squeeze together. Of course they did so... if they didn't, the four people who did manage to squeeze aboard would be waiting for as much as half an hour before an elevator made its way back up.

So it was time for the next phase of operation elevator. Keisha backed up, pressing white boy against the wall, locking his little erection between the cheeks of her bodacious buttocks. She heard him gasp audibly.

She had to maintain her composure and not gasp herself as she realized it was NOT a little erection. This motherfucker was HUNG. She had a fucking big dick trapped with her backside.

His gasp reminded her of what she needed to do next. She spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, "Oh, dayum. I forgot my earbuds... would it bother anybody for me to play my workout music to get me in the mood for the gym?"

There was a "sure", a "g'head" a "no problem" and some head nods. So she tapped her phone and soon Sir Mix-a-Lot was responding to "Oh, My God, Becky, LOOK at her butt" by declaring "I like big butts and I cannot lie..."

This was important in case her victim could not control his audible responses. Her music would cover his moans and groans... or his begging.

The elevator jolted to a stop on the next floor... and his shaft was forced upwards between her cheeks. She heard him groan, "Oh, GOD..." The elevator bumped to a start, driving him the other way. She heard a sigh of appreciation.

The fifth time this happened, she detected a note of panic in his sighs and moans. Time to up the ante.

He was having real issues now. His habit of wearing silk boxers only made things worse since they slid over his manhood and almost made it feel as if there were no clothes between his cock and her beautiful ass.

As Madonna began singing a song telling the listener to "go down, where I cannot hide..." Keisha began gyrating her hips and rocking to the music. Everyone else on the elevator, their eyes trained forward or to their phones, thought nothing of it.

But for her quarry, it meant that his phallus was now being actively massaged and manipulated by her beautiful ass. He began to try focusing on ball game scores, computer settings, his ex-wife's hateful attitude, anything to distract himself. It was not working... his breathing had become ragged. Fortunately only Keisha could hear him.

As they got about halfway down the building, he vaguely understood a woman singing about a guy who was nothing but a "munch." He worked out that meant the guy was useless for intercourse, and women only used him to lick them. Keisha was working him smoothly... he felt his balls tighten up... he could feel the impending orgasm.

"Ohhhh... fuuuuck... please... please stop..."

Keisha thought about a movie where someone had suggested mercy, and the main character had said finish them and they won't come back. She knew from experience that she could show no mercy. She locked in tightly on his tumescence and twerked on him.

"Huuungghhkk...gawww... ungh!"

She felt his cock pulsing in the trap she had set for it. Again and again as he filled his light tan dress pants with rope after rope of jizz. She did not let up. She was intent on draining him, to make the largest mess possible.

As he heard a song about what he could do for that "wet ass pussy" he surrendered. Keisha was flexing the muscles in her butt around his shaft... he began humping her, chasing the orgasm and draining his balls into his pants. He was fucked now anyway.

The elevator stopped with a jolt on the second floor. Keisha grabbed her gym bag from the floor and hollered, "Oh, oh, this is my floor!"

Everyone made way, and she hustled out as if nothing had happened.

Stanley looked down and saw that his crotch was completely soaked and stained dark with his jizz. As if that was not bad enough, his boxers did nothing to contain the fluid like regular underwear would... so there were dark streaks down both pant legs.

He had no brief case to cover himself with. So as the elevator opened on the first floor, all the other passengers and everyone in the lobby saw his condition.

To make it worse, that girl had him so worked up that he had not lost his erection... he still had a huge, obvious tent in his pants.

"OMG, frickin pervert..."

"Was he jerking off in the elevator??"

Keisha smiled to herself as she ran on the treadmill. She was moist thinking about what she had done. Thinking about that big dick pulsing against her backside, helplessly emptying itself. She could hear his strangled cries.

She had no idea. Yes, Stanley was a bit of a perv. He could not resist watching her magnificent ass move. He was entranced by her cat-like walk, as if she were stalking prey.

But he was also enamored with her wit, with her intellect, with her aura of sensuality.

Far from pushing him away, Stanley was only drawn more strongly to her.

In the years to come, they would often reflect on how she had horribly humiliated her future husband.

The memory invariably led to Stanley on his knees, hands grasping that magnificent ass which stole his heart, his face buried between her thighs, his mouth devouring her lovingly. His long, girthy phallus would be hard as a bat, bobbing upwards, bouncing off his abdomen until her fourth, fifth, sometimes tenth oral orgasm... when she would claw at him, urging him to enter her.

Which was how their children were conceived.

Fate is funny sometimes.