Alan managed to get his finger in and started to wriggle it about – Jennifer's hand tightening on his cock told him she liked it. Bing, the elevator sounded before grinding to a halt again. The white-haired, old lady turned to face them. They both froze but left their hands where they were; if they tried to move them now they'd definitely give the game away.
"Get a room," she croaked sharply, before hobbling through the opening doors of the elevator, smiling to herself. Jennifer looked over her shoulder at Alan. Their surprised faces met and they burst out laughing.
The doors slid shut and as they did, Alan grabbed Jennifer by the back of the neck and forced her upper body forward with a jolt. The shock of it forced Jennifer's grip to slacken and the cock she was holding sprang loose as she was physically coerced into adopting a toe-touching position, only with her hands on her knees. With his right hand he flung her dress up over her backside and pursed his lips at the view; two golden-brown, firm humps of flesh, like a pair of cannon-balls, with a little dark-coloured mound just beneath and poking out between them. "My word, it's good to see you again Jennifer," he exclaimed, before making a noise that was a little like a dog's growl and then squashing up to her in a hasty effort to intimately unite. Jennifer couldn't help but look at the floor – she could see in the highly polished, metal, mirror-like floor, a fairly decent reflection of her naked mound and smiled to herself as she considered what the old lady had probably seen. The elevator hadn't moved as yet but 'binged' again.
"Shit," Alan said, as he drew back with a jump, yanking Jennifer upright as he did so by her long, wavy, brunette locks. Her dress fell as she rose while Alan fumbled with his zipper as some middle-aged chap in a suit entered the elevator; he looked about the small box they were all stood in as if looking for the sexual tension he could undoubtedly sense in this restricted atmosphere - Alan wished there was a window he could open to let some of it out; it was making him feel quite stifled. Jennifer squashed her mouth together tightly and blocking off the escape route for a giggle as she heard a 'zzzzip'. The elevator at last reached the ground and Alan audibly exhaled as the doors opened and the intensity of the moment gushed outwards and dissipated in the voluminous space of the reception area. The middle-aged chap stepped out with a sort of bewildered look about him, almost as if he'd just endured something of a paranormal nature. Jennifer, giggling, stepped out and with a flick of her wrist gave Alan a naughty peep at her right buttock as she did so. Alan rushed out behind her, touching the buttock he'd just seen but having to make do with the feel of it through her dress.
As they wound their way through the busy city streets they chatted and laughed, just like in the old days, and Alan revelled in the attention that only a body like Jennifer's could command from passers-by; he'd acquired a spring in his step and was walking rather tall. As they passed the museum Alan, by placing his hand at her waist, guided her towards the street entrance of a multi-storey car-park. "So where are we heading?" Jennifer enquired, excitedly, as she happily accepted his direction – Alan had always led them off on whacky adventures as kids and that's exactly how she felt now; like a kid.
"I'm parked on the roof," Alan said, pressing the button for the elevator repeatedly.
Jennifer barged past him. "Race you up there," she replied, darting up the steps as Alan recovered from the collision. A trifle disorientated he spun around, catching a glimpse of Jennifer disappearing around the corner leading to the next flight of steps. Unable to resist the challenge Alan bounded after her, starting to get himself in a fluster as he scrambled up the first two flights of stairs and having almost barged another member of the public to the ground in the process.
As he peered up the third flight he halted - Jennifer had stopped to bend over and flip her dress up over her backside in a manner not unlike that of a naughty schoolgirl. He was surprised to hear a loud, collective gasp as he studied the daring work of art boldly displayed before him. Jennifer looked to her right, sort of giggled and screamed at the same time, and raced onwards and upwards laughing almost hysterically as she went (the elevator doors must have opened giving the passengers a rather unexpected but pleasing eyeful). Alan smiled to himself and shook his head before rushing back into the race.
As Jennifer reached the seventh floor she stopped again, waiting for Alan who'd obviously missed a few training sessions of late, Jennifer had concluded. Breathing hard and heavy, Alan eventually came into Jennifer's view. She punctually grabbed at the bottom seam of her dress and began raising it up high over her head. Her action had the same effect as a bullet through the chest would have on the doctor; it stopped him dead in his tracks.
The first he saw was those finely honed, golden-brown upper thighs, which had reddened a little from the muscle-pump she'd acquired from tackling all those steps. The dress rose some more and Alan got another look at those hips that only God could have created, and to make matters worse she'd started to move them like an experienced stripper who knew exactly how to work the punters. The good doctor closely examined the shapely perfection of her shaded triangle as it danced, teasingly, from side-to-side. He gripped the railing, still breathing hard; I'd run a thousand flights of stairs to see this, he thought, having to alter the positioning of his enlarging cock with his free hand. Her tiny waist came into view and he imagined how it would feel to have his hands clasped tightly around it making her ride his erection like a champion jockey. Alan was momentarily distracted by a noise he heard down below and turned away to glance down the steps he'd just climbed to see if some-one was coming – there wasn't.
The rising of her dress faltered a little as its material clung firmly to her melon-like breasts, but soon peeled away to let them plop out into the stale, earthy-smelling air of the car-park stairwell. She held the dress up high over her head with arms outstretched, showing it all off and gyrating like an exotic belly-dancer; he thought he may even hear the music if only he could stop breathing so hard. Then her right arm dropped downwards and caused the right side of her dress to fall haphazardly onto that side, but he could still clearly see her left breast and, of course, that enchanting triangle. Her hand slid down over her belly-button and came to rest between her legs; the touch of her hand down there made her eyes close, not that Alan would notice mind you. He could make out her fingers moving between the folds of flesh and started to feel a little jealous of the fact that it wasn't his fingers doing it or better still, his cock. Jennifer momentarily peeped out of the one eye that wasn't covered by her dress because she needed a glimpse of Alan's face – she lived to see the look of a man utterly consumed by desire for her. Satisfied, her partially-opened eye softly closed again to match the other. Alan felt a rush of blood rip through him, making him tackle the steps in three-at-a-time bounds. She heard the slaps of his soles on the concrete steps; it made her open her eyes and she saw what she already knew – Alan was rapidly advancing. She quickly brushed her dress down and light-footedly scampered up the next several flights of stairs to the roof, laughing again. Alan followed closely behind knowing his prey was soon to be cornered, and taken.
As Jennifer exited the stairwell, its stale air gave way to a fresh, breezy one, and the brightness of the sun dazzled her. She ran over to the farthest side of the roof, looking over her shoulder excitedly as she did so. Just as the door slammed itself shut, Alan came barging through like a husband arriving home knowing there's another man in the house. Not giving a thought to having been beaten by a woman, he strode over towards Jennifer with a victor's swagger. She cringed as he neared, fearing a prolonged tickling assault and had already begun laughing in anticipation. Crouching forward and holding her hands out in front of herself, she retreated down the gap which a Lexus and the rooftop wall afforded until her backside touched up against the chest-high wall behind her; she was cornered. He jumped at her, grabbing at her waist. Within seconds he'd subdued his quarry and pulled her tightly up against himself, kissing her hard on the mouth; it was if he was trying to pack all those years they'd been apart into this one, long, heated kiss, and he was succeeding! She felt as though she were melting, before the desire to return the earnestness with which he kissed her saved her from the puddle-like fate. The electricity of the moment increased to such a level their bodies temporarily shutdown to save their hearts from going into fibrillation – they'd stopped kissing and if anyone could see them they'd probably mistake them for mannequins, unless they were close enough to witness the inferno burning in their eyes that is. She felt like the typical damsel in distress atop the tower she'd been imprisoned in, and Alan was her proverbial knight in shining armour – she was his for the taking.
