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It had been near a half an hour and we were pretty sure the elevator wasn’t going anywhere. We were stuck for sure. It was one of those old buildings too, the kind that didn’t have the phones in elevators to call out when things like this happened. So, the two of us just stood there feeling stupid next to the mirrors on the walls.

"We can crawl up the shaft." He suggested, pointing to a trap-like door in the ceiling. I nodded, thinking I would like to crawl up his shaft. He was really good looking and built too. He said his name was Paul Saint. I found that romantic...wanting to switch it around and say Saint Paul. But I wasn’t thinking saintly thoughts. Not at all.

"Yeah, we could do that...but...you know it is so quiet in here. Just us. You know?" I replied. He looked at me a minute. Yeah, he knew what I was doing. Trying to seduce him.

"You don’t even know me well enough to enjoy my company." He said, a smile like Gene Kelly in those old MGM movies. He had a body like a dancer, could be one, maybe. Graceful pose...smiling ear to ear...movie star face...

"I could enjoy your company...right here...right now..." I said, giving him a smile.

"Really?" he sidled up to me, glancing at our reflection in the mirror. "So if I lift up your skirt, you won’t protest?"

I shook my head.

"Not one bit."

And he lifted up my skirt then, faded denim and tight, pushing it up over my hips. He hesitated a moment. I thought maybe he didn’t like the way I looked or something. No, it wasn’t that at all.

"I like these." He stated, pulling at the elastic band of my tights, peach pink like ballerina tights and the pink tan of my legs showed through. They were brand new, Danskin, I had bought them for Aerobics class but wore them today anyway.

"You do?" I asked, pushing my hips to him so he could get a better feel of my legs.

"Very much...I would like them better with your panties off."

His wish was my command. I slipped the black panties I wore over the tights off and kicked them aside. He was looking at the thick thatch of my pubic hair now, smashed down under the pink tights.

"I would like you better if I could see your cock." I said boldly. He was more than happy to oblige. He unzipped his jeans and pulled down the band of his briefs, showing me a fully erect cock that sprung free and bounced out of it’s enclosure. I slipped off my white tank top while he did this, showing him my blue lace bra. He seemed to like that too. My nipples were hard and poked a little bit over the very top of the rim. I even let my hair down for him, tossing the silver clip to the floor of the elevator. I looked at his cock and instantly wanted to take it in my mouth. I really enjoy giving head, even though a lot of girls don’t. I love the way a cock feels in my mouth.

He seemed to read my mind because he put my hand on his cock and pushed me gently to the floor on my knees, letting me lap at the head with my tongue. I brushed my nipples against the hair on his legs that felt so good and masculine.

"I want to see you touch yourself..." he said in a raspy voice like he might pop off and come any second. I rose up and lifted one leg up on the bar-railing of the elevator, and started to pulkl the tights down, but he said,

"No, keep them on and do it...underneath."

Okay, this was getting very hot and I wanted him so bad. I kept my leg up and faced him, slipping my hand down the front of the pink tights and stroking my cunt there. He kneeled down then, actually kneeled down in front of me and watched me up close, seeing my fingers stroke my own pussy. I opened myself up and let him see the pink inside, the wet glistening pink that was so secret.

He had his fist around his cock and was pumping himself now, pretty hard and fast. He reached up and pinched my nipples one after the other as if he were testing their resilience or the weight of my breasts.

I was looking down at his cock, all pink, swollen and hard...so much pink everywhere...

I inserted a finger into myself, surprised at my own heat and the way my lips had swollen up with heat. I put another finger in, then a third. His face was right there, smelling me...maybe tasting the air...if that makes sense. I half expected him to dive into me, to fill me up. Just put his face in me, bury himself in wet heat.

His hand was pumping faster, with more fury and he groaned. I was coming, the orgasm coming on in a slow wave of heat that built up like white fire and exploded. The wetness was on both sides of my hand, on my pussy and on the thin sheen of nylon of the tights. I was shivering and jerking around, not really caring if we got out of the elevator or not. I was beyond that. It’s strange how things work, because right then the elevator lurched and started an even descent up, in the direction we had commanded it to. I quickly tried to compose myself, taking my hand out and scampering for my discarded clothing.

I raced to put on my top and to fix the now wet tights and denim skirt around my waist. He simply and casually zipped up his jeans and laughed at me. The door opened. A group of about 7 people stood there waiting for the elevator. I tried to hide the flush on my face. Everyone was looking at us. I was getting ready to walk past them when Paul said in the slyest voice, loud enough for them to hear,

"Was it good for you?"