Wednesday, September 26, 2007

CHOOSE YOUR OWN CLIMAX: WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?

The lights flickered and went out. We were alone in the elevator, stuck between the fifth and the sixth floors. I could smell her perfume and I could see her silhouette. And I could hear the quickened pace of her respirations. Other than that, I was in a ink black box. Panic, thy name is pseudo-sensory deprivation.
"What the fuck?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"I don't know," I said, my throat tight. "Maybe the power grid? Maybe all those damned air conditioners knocked it out? Like they said would happen?" I felt behind me and touched the metal bar on the wall of the elevator. For some reason, that made me feel a slight bit better. It made me feel more grounded, I guess.

"How long do you think we'll be stuck here?" she asked.

I am a mailroom dude. I push important documents in a wire mesh cart from floor to floor. I am not an elevator technician. I never have been, and I probably never will be. I told her as much.

"Thanks so for your help," she said. Snooty. Like she deserved to be stuck in an elevator with a CEO. Or a professional athlete. Like a mail clerk was below her. I breathed deeply. The scent of flowers filled my nostrils.

"Sorry to disappoint," I offered.
When she spoked again, her voice was softer; I think she'd embarrassed herself. "No. I'm sorry," she said. "I guess I'm just a little out of sorts." She laughed nervously. "I have a touch of claustrophobia. Never liked small places." She paused and drew in a hitching breath. "I usually take the God damned stairs. Shit."
I mumbled some noncommital noise and sat down with my back against the wall. If we were going to be stuck, I figured, I might as well make myself comfortable. After a minute or two, I heard her sit down, too. I heard the scrape of her high heels skitter across the floor and then I heard the soft thump of her posterior make contact with the bottom of the box. She shifted and I heard the soft rasp of clothing. I figured that she had primly pulled the hem of her skirt down. I figured that I had heard the shift of black skirt against black-sheened stockings. And, being Troy the Mail Clerk, my mind began to wander.

We had only been on the elevator together for a couple of floors, but, before the lights had gone out and the lift had stopped jarringly, I had gotten a good look at her when she had climbed aboard. She had that sexy librarian look, the look that got my engine revving. Middle-parted shoulder-length dark brown hair with dark tortoise shell eyeglasses. Arched eyebrows. Aquline nose. Her blouse was sensible yet sexy, hinting at a voloptuous figure beneath. Her black mid-thigh skirt clung provocatively to her pleasingly-curved ass and her legs were long and slender, accented nicely by her sheer black stockings. Regardless of our shared quandary, my cock began to stiffen.

I opened my eyes. "So," I said, "since we may be here for awhile, stuck in the dark, maybe introductions are in order. My name's Troy. Ordinarily, I'd be pleased to meet you, but, in this case...." I trailed off.

She cleared her throat. "Uh, yeah. This is fucking bullshit. Isn't there supposed to be, like, an alarm or something?"

I laughed. "Yeah. That's a good idea. It should be over there." I pushed forward onto my hands and knees and crawled in the general direction of the electrical box. I waved my right hand ahead of me and connected with something soft and yielding. Her breast. I jerked my hand back as though I had touched a hot stove. "Sorry about that," I mumbled.

"No harm, no foul," she said distractedly.
I nodded and crawled forward.

9 comments:

Melissa said...

Crawled toward the electrical box or toward her breast?

She did say no harm ...

Nanette said...

Oh my, my screen is melting. I think I'll keep my ending to myself. ;)

The One and Only A said...

It's just the beginning, but...

Mel: Toward the electrical box. This story blows. :-)

Nan: See above. I am ashamed to have cast the allusion that I might have some smut up my sleeve. I have to do much better.

Terry said...

sshhhhhh Don't tell anyone that I have a secret elevator fantasy. :)

Jennchez said...

Hey!!!! There is nothing wrong with smut! This country was based on smut and run on smut!! You know, smut is a really good word :)

Keep it comin'! (pun intended)

Isabella Snow said...

Hmm.. is this true!?

I've been stuck and had to climb out of an elevator 4 times since living here!

And I just did a really hawt sex scene in an elevator in my new book.. they do have alarms sometimes.. but not always..

Tirzah said...

Woohooo! When are you writing the rest? lol

The One and Only A said...

Too late, Terry. ;-)

Jenn: I'll keep it cumming. And, yeah, a billion-dollar-a-year industry, for good reason.

It's completely made up, Miss Snow. :-(

T-zah: I started to, but it's slow-coming. ;-)

Tirzah said...

LMAO!