In the Elevator

This is the third story from FT and I. If you are tuning in late, I compose these stories for her, and she keeps her webcam on for me. Please send us some feedback to let us know what you think.

You are getting a true look at our private life. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed composing it. If it helps you, imagine seeing what I see while I write them. Enjoy!

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I was working late again. They had been upgrading the computer systems in the building, and for some reason, the service elevator wasn't working.

I wheeled the maintenance cart through the lobby of the darkened office building. The lobby was empty, except for a single security guard, who didn't even look up from his magazine as I coasted through. Normally, we can't take the carts up the main elevators. It doesn't look good for potential clients to see us lowly janitors, oh, sorry, maintenance engineers, wheeling their carts around. The building still had to be cleaned, so I had to take the main elevator. As I waited for the car, I heard the sound of heels clicking on the marble floor in the lobby.

"Good evening, Ms Ericson." came the suddenly alert voice of the security guard in the lobby.

"Working late?"

"Teleconference with Moscow tonight, Billy," was the rich, deep alto response.

Shit!

Sophia Ericson, executive vice president of Laif Industries, came click clopping around the corner toward the bank of elevators. Her eyebrows rose as she saw me. As luck would have it, the elevator arrived at exactly that moment, cheerfully pinging as the doors slid open. Ms Ericson strode purposefully toward the open elevator.

"Are you supposed to be here?" She demanded, somehow looking down her nose at me, despite being almost ten inches shorter than my own six foot two.

"Maintenance elevator's broken, Ma'am." I said, not making eye contact. "Gotta clean."

She stood there for a second, probably just to make me sweat a little, and then said "Well, I guess we can make an exception this time, in that case." Rumor had it that she was the reason we had to hump the carts down to the loading dock in the first place. She strode confidently into the elevator, and turned and looked at me expectantly.

"Well?" she said. "Aren't you going to get in?"

"I'll wait for the next car." I said. This woman could fire me in a second, on a whim. I wanted to be as far beneath her notice as I could.

"Bullshit." She said. "You'll get to work right now. You won't be hanging around down here goofing off. Now, get in."

Obediently, I wheeled the bulky cart into the elevator car, trying not to be too noticeable. The elevator gave little sensation of movement as it started upward. I had a second to look around. This elevator was all chrome steel and mirrors. I was careful not to look at Ms Ericson as we shot upward toward executiveland.

At about floor fifteen, the lights flickered briefly, and at the forty fifth floor, the elevator gave a distinctly un executive like lurch. Then lights went out. The dim red of the emergency lights flickered on.

"Shit." Ms Ericson said "What the fuck did you do?" She demanded.

"Nothing, ma'am." I said. I was sure to lose my job over this one. "I didn't even press a button."

"Bullshit," She said. Her voice had a kind of shrill sound, and she was obviously angry. "You assholes are always breaking something, so you can get out of work."

"No, Ma'am." I said desperately, "The techs are working with the power system tonight. That's why the maintenance elevator isn't working."

"OK, blame somebody else," She said. Her voice was definitely rising in pitch. "But I will see that somebody pays for it."

I started digging into the cart for the flashlight.

"What are you doing?" She shouted.

"Just getting a flashlight, Ma'am. I have one in the cart, I think."

"Oh." She said. Her breathing was getting ragged. "I guess that's ok."

I jammed the flashlight into a space on the top of the crowded cart, its light pointed at the ceiling. In the light, it was clear that something unpleasant was going on with Sophia Ericson. Her cheeks were red. She was visibly sweating, despite the cool temperature of the car, and her eyes flicked back and forth around the spacious elevator. With the increased lighting, she seemed to calm a little.

"Are you ok, Ms Ericson?" I asked.

"I just don't like closed spaces very much." She said.

I wanted to sit down, but I damned well wasn't going to do it before she did. I looked at my watch. I had been supposed to go off shift an hour ago, and now it looked like I was going to be here for a while more. An idea struck me.

"Ms Ericson? Don't you have a phone? Couldn't you call somebody?" I asked.

"Good idea," She said. "Um," she began, for the first time seeming a little unsure of herself. "I don't know your name."

I had deliberately not told her.

"I'm Jake, Ma'am." I said.

She set her briefcase on top of my cart, and extracted a tiny cell phone. Still breathing heavily, she turned it on, and waited a second.

"No signal? How the fuck to I have no signal?" She said. "This is a seven hundred dollar phone." She reached back as if to throw the phone at the wall, and, like an idiot, I grabbed her hand.

"Ma'am, we might need that phone later, and we certainly don't want to be stuck in here with a bunch of broken glass."

But she wasn't hearing anything. "Don't you tell me what to do," she shrieked, turning as if to throw the phone at me. "I don't even notice people like you!"

But she put the phone in her pocket. Face red, she started to pace. The elevator was big enough for her to get five or six steps before she had to turn around.

Click, click, click.

For the first time, I allowed myself to notice her outfit. A smart, crisp black business skirt and jacket, with a crisp, starched cotton blouse. Very expensive looking heels completed the outfit.

Click, click, click.

For almost twenty minutes, she paced back and forth, heels clicking, panting.

"Is it getting hot in here?" She asked. Her head whipped back and forth as her eyes kept searching for a way to escape. Her red hair hung down across her face.

Still wanting to sit down, I replied "Yes, Ma'am. Air conditioning is out."

"How long do you think it will take them to find us?" She asked. She was getting more and more agitated by the second.

"Well, Ma'am, I have no clue. Does anybody know to look for us?" I asked. I knew that they wouldn't look for me, but I assumed that they would look for her.

"Billy, the night guard." She said. "He would look for us." She was grasping at straws. Her eyes were glassy, and she couldn't seem to focus on anything for long.

"Probably not, Ma'am. Those of us downstairs don't mess with the upstairs people much."

"So, at the latest, we will be found on Monday," I reassured her. Perhaps if I calmed her down, I would manage to keep my job.

"Monday!" She declared, whirling around. "Fucking Monday!" She rushed to the doors, trying to pull them with her fingers. She seemed to lose her little remaining composure while she wrenched at the heavy security doors. I winced as I saw her break a beautifully sculpted nail. She was obviously in a panic. Damn, I'm an idiot, but she was going to hurt herself.

I grabbed her by the wrists, pulling them away from the door. She turned, completely lost now, and started slamming her tiny fists against my chest and face. I have been hit harder by twelve year olds, but something in me just snapped at that point. I guess I didn't care enough about that job anyway.

So I lashed out with my right hand and slapped her.

I hadn't really intended to hit her very hard, but she flew back against the elevator door and bounced back against me, tottering off those heels as she did so.

I could smell her.

That was what did it, in the end, I could smell her. She smelled of perfume, expensive shampoo, cosmetics, sweat, and panic.

God, I was so stupid.

I reached up with my left hand, and grabbed her by the hair. I roughly pushed my lips down onto hers, kissing her roughly. Inexplicably, she kissed me back. She kissed me hungrily, passionately, and deeply. Her tongue forced itself into mine with a desperation that shocked me. Her arms went around me, her chest pressing into my stomach, and I felt her pelvis start to grind into my leg. I didn't have a clue what was going on in her head, and I didn't care. I kissed her more forcefully, as her hands found the zipper at the front of my coveralls. She unzipped it in a single, desperate movement, and her hands were inside, pressing against my t shirt. Feeling, probing.

I found the buttons on the front of her business suit. Yanking it open, she pulled her hands out from inside my coverall to get the jacket off. I was fumbling with the buttons on her starched blouse, when she simply reached down and ripped it open, buttons flying everywhere. She never broke the kiss. The blouse joined the jacket on the floor.

She pulled the coverall off my shoulders, yanking it down my body. She was trying to pull it off, over my shoes. She made a little grunt of frustration, and I toed the shoes off, leaving me in my cut offs and t shirt.

I recovered my grasp on her hair, and pulled her back up toward me. She kissed me again, just as desperately as before. Her hands were roaming again, running down the front of my chest, across my stomach, and down to rub my throbbing cock through the front of my shorts. I hadn't been this hard in years.

Grasping her shoulders, I pushed her back against the door of the elevator, noticing her white, lacy designer bra for the first time. My hands went for the waistband of that snappy business skirt, looking for the fastener. Sue me. I don't wear women's business clothes. She found it for me, and soon she was standing there, pressed back against the door, wearing nothing but her lingerie. She leaned back; enjoying me looking at her, for just a second then launched herself at me again.

Her tongue swirled around my mouth, as she ground her panty covered pussy against my thigh. Her hands went to the waistband of my cut offs. Not even slowing down, she ripped my belt off, yanking my button flies open, and she shoved her hand inside to grip my cock. She kissed me deeply as she pumped her hand, painfully, up and down on my rock hard dick. I grasped her, again, by the hair, and shoved her bodily to her knees. It had to have hurt, but she didn't make a sound as she gobbled my dick. With a skill I would never have expected from a sheltered, rich born executive girl, she worshiped my cock.

"Well, if she can do that, let's see what else she can do," I said to myself.

I grabbed her by the hair again thrusting rudely into her mouth.

She took it

God only knows where that girl learned to deep throat, but I didn't care. I brutally fucked her face. I didn't want to come in her mouth. I stopped thrusting, and she continued to fuck her own face up and down on my cock, her nose slamming hard into my pelvis as she did it. As much to keep from coming as anything else, I wrenched her head off me, hurling her down onto the hard, polymer floor of the elevator. She lay there, stunned for just a second, and then levered herself up onto her elbows. Without a word, she spread her stocking clad legs apart, knees up, in a clear invitation.

I looked at her, and, speaking for the first time since we started, said "lose the panties."

Slowly, teasingly, she eased the panties down past her garters, and down her long legs. Slipping the panties off those expensive shoes, she languidly spread her feet apart again. She smiled at me.

"Now the bra." I said.

Obediently, she reached between her breasts, unclipping the bra. She slipped it off her shoulders. She slid herself back along the floor, to lean with her shoulders against the doors. Dropping my shorts to the floor, I stepped forward, my cock, still glistening with her spit, stuck out in front of me.

Seeing it, she licked her lips.

I dropped to my knees in front of her, grabbing her legs behind the knees. I yanked hard toward me, and she ended up flat on her back. Her hand reached down, grasping my dick, and I thrust into her with one push. She was sopping. Her hips lifted up off the floor as she fucked herself against me. She grunted, the deep alto voice returning, as I slammed her, again and again. Her nails dug into my back as she seemed to fuck me for dear life. She bit my shoulder, painfully, and I lifted up, away from her and slapped her again.

She started coming. For a few minutes, I just let her grunt and shake beneath me, as the contractions eased.

Then I started in again, more slowly this time. I took my time, enjoying the tight, hot feel of her sodden twat. Slowly, ever so slowly, I increased my pace and force, until once again, we were fucking like our lives depended on it. I felt her building. Her breath became ragged. Her movements became more frantic. And she just kept building, until she was making little sounds of frustration, forcing herself onto me with more and more abandon. She whispered something under her breath that I couldn't hear.

I leaned down toward her. "What did you say?" I asked.

"Hit me," she said.

She was obviously frustrated beyond her normal limits.

"Say it again, louder." I demanded.

"Hit me." She said.

She was positively mewling now, and I realized that she would never come without the slap.

"Beg me." I said.

"No, please. Don't make me..." She said.

"Do it!" I demanded. "Beg me to hit you!"

"Goddamn you!" She shouted. "Hit me again. I can't come unless you hit me! Hit me. God, please hit me."

And I hit her, on the side of the face, with my open hand. Then she was coming, panting, shrieking, and twitching,

"I know." I said.

I let her lay there until she stopped twitching, and looked down at her. She was absolutely beautiful, with her face red, and the look of lust lingering in her eyes. Grasping her hips, I picked her up off the floor, slipping out of her. I rolled her over. Obediently, she tucked her knees under her, presenting her ass to me. I pulled her toward me, slowly. I was unsure of how she would react to this. Watching her carefully, I pushed my cock into her one more time for lube, and pressed it against her asshole.

She simply lay there. Cautiously, I started pushing. Slowly, a little deeper with each thrust, I pushed deeper and deeper into her, until I was all the way in. I gave her a minute until she was relaxed, and started fucking her again. Gently, ever so gently at first, I once again started pushing her limits and she responded, pushing back against me harder, and harder, until we were nothing but a pair of rutting animals

Then I started to spank her.

Hard. This wasn't some playful love tap. I was slapping her ass so hard my hand tingled. She started coming, again, and this time I didn't stop. I just kept fucking, and spanking and she kept coming. I felt my balls tighten, spraying my come deep into her ass, and I finally let her collapse onto the floor.

It took them almost three hours to get the power restored to the elevators.

We used that time well.