Let me tell you a story that happened to me a few years back.
I had just graduated from college with a fine arts degree in painting. My interests in college ran to partying and sex, and that lifestyle drifted into my art; I found myself painting erotic art more and more. Each piece I did was charged with sex, and there were moments in my studio were I was so hot, I would take a break to relieve the tension.
I managed to live off my savings for a while, but came to realize that a painting major was not a major that commanded a paycheck, much less a big one. So, I sent out resumes for office work and began taking classes for massage therapy at night to pay the bills. I wasn't having much luck in the job search, till one Monday, when I got a call requesting I come in for an interview with a law firm downtown the next day.
As I got ready Tuesday morning, I realized I was nervous, so I dressed to kill. After my shower, I stood in my bedroom, looking at my reflection. Long black hair curled nicely down my back, the ends resting just above my nipples. I ran my fingers over them lightly and smiled as I watched the little, light brown tips harden. I slipped on a frilly pink bra, then the matching crotch-less panties, smoothing the elastic band over slim hips. The material was a fine mesh and looked so good framing my newly shaven lips that I turned this way and that, bending over a little to look my pussy. I brushed my hand over my mound, enjoying the tingle that went through my body. I already felt better.
I finished dressing, pulling on a pink button down shirt and a tight grey skirt that hit right below my knees. No sense offending the interviewer with indecent exposure; I'd wait till I had the job first! Pausing only to step into black high heels and grab my purse, I touched up my makeup and headed out.
Arriving with plenty of time, I parked and walked into the building, moving my hips suggestively as I caught sight of some handsome businessmen looking my way, even winking at one when he stumbled. I laughed to myself as I waited for an elevator; men were so easy and I enjoyed them immensely. There was little I didn't like about the male body – hard bodies and harder cocks made Mischa a happy, happy girl. If the interview went well, maybe I'll treat myself to one tonight.
Pushing that thought out of my mind as I got into the elevator, I barely noticed those around me as I headed up, my eyes staring at the numbers ticking by as I practiced my answers. One by one they got out, till it was just me and an attractive man left.
I leaned against the wall, smiling as I took him in. Mid-forties, trim, with a healthy tan. The tone of his body led me to believe this man was an athlete, maybe volleyball, because his tan looked natural and there were lighter streaks in his dark brown hair. Just a touch of gray around the temples, and a fairly stern mouth. Five to one he was the CEO or at least high in the company; he looked as if he didn't like hearing "no" very often. If he told me to do something, an activity that hopefully involved little to no clothing, I would not deny or defy him.
My skin started tingling, and I pressed my thighs together a little. This was not an appropriate reaction right before I went into an interview! And the man was old enough to be my father; granted, he would have been a young father, but still. Actually, the idea appealed to me; I wouldn't mind playing "his little girl".
He turned towards me just then, catching me staring at him. I felt my cheeks flush, but managed a smile.
"Hot day, isn't it?" As he spoke his eyes raked over me, his gaze lingering on my breasts and nipples, which stood up at the attention. The corner of his mouth tilted up a little, and I barely suppressed a sigh. I found his mouth undeniably sexy.
"Mmhm, I hear it's going to be a scorcher."
"Did you feel the earthquake earlier this morning?"
"Earthquake?" Being a California native, earthquakes didn't scare me, but I was definitely concerned about one striking while I was in the elevator.
No sooner was that thought out of my head when the elevator screeched to a stop, the main lights flickering several times before going out completely, leaving just the emergency lights. The walls shook gently at first, then harder.
The movement made me lose my balance, and wearing such high heels, I never had a chance. I pitched forward, and the man moved to catch me. I clung to his shoulders a little harder and longer than necessary, more to get closer to him than anything else. He had broad shoulders, which, in my heels, were the perfect height for me to rest my head against, so I did, breathing in his cologne.
"Are you okay?" he asked in my ear, and shivering against him, but not because of the earthquake, I told him I was.
The shaking didn't last long, but did seem to have stopped the elevator for the time being. A voice came over an unseen intercom, advising all elevator passengers to remain calm. The man reached out with one arm and snagged the phone. After a brief conversation, he turned to me.
"There was another earthquake. It seems to have tripped some circuits or something, so the elevators are out of commission. They don't know how long it'll take."
I groaned. What an impression to leave with the first interview I had gotten since starting my search! I opened my purse to check my phone, intending to call and let the firm know I was stuck in an elevator. I flipped it open and stared glumly at the screen: No Service.
"Do you happen to have service?" I asked him hopefully. He pulled out his own cell phone, but shook his head.
"No. Damn things. They never work when you want them to." He laughed a little and leaned back against the wall.
