Beautiful Frustration

Frottage memories (Subtle Contact!)

The queue, waiting for the first lift is large, but my eyes focus happily on the blonde hair of a woman ahead of me, rather than the floor indicator above each lift. I love women like her, slim, in her forties, maybe even over fifty, dressed in a suit, shiny hair in a bob style, elegant and feminine.

I am going into the same lift as her, just so that I may gaze discretely at her and enjoy her good looks. My head thrills at the possibility that she has a thin blouse and underneath, a Camisole top. Utterly divine!

The right hand lift arrives and a mass of people shuffle sideways to get it, but many of the crowd see that the second lift is on its way so I stay -- and so does Mrs Lovely!

In a few seconds, the lift arrives, empty. Most people here, like me, will go to the top floor for breakfast in the restaurant. Mrs Lovely enters and with luck, will turn around and I will be able to admire her slyly for the minute or so it takes the lift to get to the top floor.

The crowd jam in with me and I am pushed close to her. Not my plan as I am now behind her; I can't check out her clothes. I am nudged again by the lady carrying a large package. I move away and my hand touches Mrs Lovely's thigh. I freeze when I feel the heat from her buttock; she wears such a thin skirt. I shuffle slightly and the back of my hand rubs over her soft-firm flesh. I cannot feel panties; she wears a thong maybe or a pair of Directorie knickers! My head projects my 'fantasy female' characteristics onto her.

I feel my face glow as I become stressed with desire. I freeze as the lift takes us up one level. I feel like a man who has found a treasure trove; to be able to feel this intimate part of this completely unknown woman while she is unaware! I must pretend that I am aware only of my briefcase, held in my left hand.

The door opens to let one woman out and a young mother in, with a pushchair. The crowd shuffle around and I have to move behind Mrs Lovely. I shudder with the excitement of being so lucky. My growing tool slides across her buttocks as she also shuffles back a few inches.

I feel my briefcase rub against her left thigh; I imagine I am protecting her from the pushchair. I freeze again as our bodies exchange heat. I fear she will move, turn to me in disgust or slap my face, yet I cannot move away from her.

The lift gently jerks as it moves on to the next floor. My tool grinds sexily against her soft flesh, pressing uncontrollably and intimately into her. I dare not move, I can't move, I want the lift to stop at each floor; I wish she would push her bottom into my greedy and eager tool!

Nonchalantly, Mrs Lovely softly flicks her hair with a casual wave of fingers, close to my face; I breathe in her scent, or shampoo. I feel her shoulder-blade briefly touch my chest; we are so close. As the lift stops again, she reaches into her tiny handbag and searches for something. I look over her shoulder and into her bag. I see a small phone, car keys and her fingers, searching beneath these items. My knob is solid now and her bottom is burning me. In my buzzing brain, I have a vision of me pulling her closer, gently reaching around, cupping her small, braless breasts in a way that none here can see -- our secret!

I realise that my breathing has become jerky and I may have gasped. I close my mouth and try to control my breathing through my nose. I can feel each buttock spanned by the length of my aching tool. I want to slide it out of my pants but this would spoil it. I remain rigid and let my rod press into her beautiful, soft, woman-flesh. I am suddenly head-over heels in love with this perfect female!

I have forgotten how many floors the lift has travelled. Suddenly, I am aware that I am in a daze, my eyes are stinging and my face is red and sweaty. I hear the muted sound of the lift bell indicating another level reached. In my head I know that she must be aware of my tingling tool, pushed sensually into her soft bottom. Yet I fear that if I push harder, she will be offended!

The door opens and the crowd moves out, spilling onto the top floor corridor; I imagine that she will remain with me showing that she is enjoying the closeness we share.

The smell of coffee rushes in just as Mrs Lovely moves away from me. My heart stops in my distressed shock. She simply walks away and heads for the queue at the coffee counter. She does not even know that I have been making love to her beautiful bottom as we shared the lift. She walks away as if I were not here.

I feel rejected and dejected, disappointed, confused as she disappears through the crowded restaurant, refusing to even thrill me with a backward glance. The lift door closes; I feel only the cool area on my thin trousers where she had been so close to me. The gentle chill makes me aware of my excited condition, tingles ripple along my tool, wanting more and better intimacy with this most darling woman.

The lift reaches the bottom once more and many more people wait there to go up. I do not see them as I step out, still red-faced and still unsure of where I am going. I leave the building and sit on the wall opposite enjoying the cool breeze blowing past. I am relieved that I can hide my erect knob by sitting with my case on my lap. I sit for a few minutes trying to recover my senses, yet trying to record, in my memory for all time, the most amazing sensations in my body.

I do not want coffee this morning, my stomach is in turmoil. Later I fantasise about the possibility of sharing a table with her, becoming friends, playing games as we pretend that this event did not take place. The fantasy diminishes the frustration I feel; we may never meet again, but I can dream of playing this game with her every morning.