March 3, 2007, I was hanging out with my friend, Randall, at the Westchester Mall in White Plain, New York. Randall was a dark skinned pretty boy with the physique of a body builder. This was the first time we had hung out since he came back home from Iraq. It felt like the good old days in high school!
We boarded the elevator, and two young black women were right behind us. They were hot and gave off the vibe that they were sex-starved. The one who stood next to me was short, light-skinned with a shapely body. Her hair was blond and cut close, and she could not take her eyes off me. Her curvy friend was also pretty and a shade darker than she was. She had her arms around Randall.
"We have some handsome gentlemen on the elevator, Angela."
Angela. That was her name, huh. I was so aroused checking out her voluptuous figure. I had vivid images of myself fucking the shit out of Angela on this elevator.
"Sue, you're a trip." Angela giggled.
The elevator proceeded to descend, and when we passed the fourth floor, the elevator came to an abrupt halt. I was thinking, No, not now. I hate being stuck on elevators. The women, to my surprise, were not frightened. They were calm with smiles on their faces. It was as if they wanted to be stuck on the elevator with us.
"I hate elevators, but I don't mind being stuck on one with beautiful ladies," Randall admitted.