Author's note: This is the first part of a five part novella. Each chapter will be devoted to a different category of erotica: i.e. lesbian, group, interracial, BDSM, exhibitionism/voyeur (in that order). Although the five parts constitute a complete story I have tried to write each chapter so it could be enjoyed stand-alone as well (although I prefer you read the whole thing of course). I will post each chapter about a week apart. Enjoy!
*
Twelve floors above the streets of Manhattan Paige was stalled on the cusp of escape. She fidgeted impotently with her purse while anxiously eyeing the narrowing entrance to the small, movable room. As the gap between the steel doors contracted she rocked forward on the balls of her feet to peek into the corridor. She spotted Doug. He was just outside her office, looking the other direction, towards the fire exit. She moved back a step and sighed with relief; he hadn't seen her. But, as the doors drew to within a few inches of each other, just as she was nearly free, a tiny arm thrust through the gap and broke the infrared safety beam. The doors stopped with a dull click. They began to open again.
Paige stepped to the left to keep herself out of Doug's line of sight as a petite woman darted into the elevator. She was Asian: a pretty little thing with big, brown eyes, long, lustrous hair and a healthy, if not massive, chest. She carried herself with a casual self assurance far beyond what Paige could hope to muster.
Confidence must come easy for someone like that
, thought Paige as she frowned at her own indistinct reflection in the burnished steel of the door.
"Sorry," said the petite woman. "Didn't see you in here."
"s'OK," mumbled Paige as the other woman repeatedly jabbed the "close door" button.
"Hey, hold that elevator!" called a voice rushing towards them. Paige's shoulders sagged in defeat. It was Doug's voice.
"Sorry!" called the woman through the narrowing gap as she continued to hit the 'close door' button. "In a hurry."
Paige smiled gratefully at the back of her companion's head as the doors finally shut and the car started to move.
The woman turned towards her. A mischievous smirk lit up her face. "That was kinda bitchy, huh?" she said as she scrunched her head into her shoulders in a well practiced ain't-I-a-stinker gesture.
"No problem," said Paige. "I was trying to avoid that guy, actually."
"Doug?" asked the woman. "You know
Doug
?"
Paige blushed. She'd had no idea this woman knew Doug too. She wondered if she knew him in the same way.
"Oh God! You
do
!" She laughed. It was more of a cackle. "Did you sleep with him?"
Paige blushed deeper. She could feel the tell-tale ring of hot air settle around her neck as her skin lit up like a red Christmas bulb. Oh God, after getting through high school and college without getting noticed by anybody,
now
-- in her professional life, of all places - she was going to get a reputation as a slut.
"Oh, don't get embarrassed," urged the other woman. "You'd be surprised by..."
With a shudder followed by a sharp upwards jerk, the elevator came to an abrupt stop. The petite woman was pitched forward off her heels, grabbing Paige around the waist on her way to the floor. Paige choked back a scream and seized the woman by her upper arms, supporting her as her face came to rest mashed against Paige's chest.
"You OK?" asked Paige as she helped her to her feet.
"Shit," said the woman. "Oh. Sorry about that..." She nodded to the smear of smoky red lipstick and taupe eye-shadow across the left breast of Paige's white blouse.
Paige looked at the smear. She rubbed at it briefly but gave up when she realized she was only pushing the pigment deeper into the fabric. As she looked up she caught the other woman'sgaze lingering on the swell of her chest. Their eyes met briefly, strangely. Paige looked away.
The woman bent over to see which buttons on the panel might be worth pushing. She randomly hit a few. One set off a loud, ringing alarm. She let it ring for a couple of seconds before pushing another that turned it off.
"Ugh. Too loud," she complained. "We'll leave that for our last resort."
"This is what I get for not taking the stairs," said Paige.
"The stairs, huh? You afraid of elevators or something?"
"No. I lost a lot of weight recently. I'm trying to keep it off."
The woman turned towards Paige and looked her up and down with a practiced, critical eye that made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. The woman said, "You really should. You've got a good body. But... you did all that by walking
stairs
?"
"No. I mean, I've been doing other stuff too. Lunges, crunches... that kind of thing."
"Ugh,
crunches
. I fucking hate crunches. But still, they get the job done. I must do, like, a thousand a week... lookie here," said the woman as she began unbuttoning her blouse from the bottom up. She opened the shirt up to her bra and tightened her abdomen. Every toned ripple and crease showed in anatomy textbook detail.
"Um...very nice."
"Oh! Where are my manners? Here I am showing you my bod and I hadn't even introduced myself. I'm Marie. Marie MacDougall," said the Asian woman.
"Funny, you don't look Scottish".
Marie laughed and pointed at herself with a thumb. "Halfbreed, An Okinawa souvenir, as my dad used to say."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry..."
"Pfft. Don't worry about it."
With a hum and a slight tug of inertia the elevator started moving again. Both women cheered. Paige looked up at the floor indicator: just a few more to go. She wondered if she'd ever speak with Marie MacDougall again.
"My name is Paige, by the way. Paige Hellar."
Marie looked at her. She seemed to be appraising her again... but not her body this time. She seemed to be reading her the way poker players look for tells in their opponents. It was unnerving.
"We should have a girl's night out, Paige; finish this conversation."
Paige smiled, surprised. "I'd like that."
"You have a business card or something?" asked Marie as the elevator announced its arrival at the lobby with a soft tone.
"Yeah, I just got a new box yesterday. It has all my new numbers..." prattled Paige before she realized she just opened herself up to a bunch of questions she didn't feel like answering.
But Marie didn't ask why her numbers were new. She merely pocketed the card and smiled. "I'll give you a call," she said. She winked as she stepped out of the elevator into the Oreskos Corp lobby, walking towards the Avenue of the Americas entrance. Paige watched her call out to a group of young executive types. They paused, smiled and waved her over.
Paige watched in awe. How she'd love to be a woman like that. She let her freshly flowered admiration of Marie bloom into a brief fantasy of instant popularity with the most powerful cliques in the company. She imagined tagging along as Marie's plus-one to one of the scandalously swank get-togethers that What's-her-name Oreskos -- the spoiled young heiress of the company's late founder - was rumored to host in the executive suites. She imaged handsome executives smiling at her from across the room. She imaged whirlwind romances; delirious sex on yachts and private jets; a surprise proposal; a life of luxury...
But then an elevator directly in front of her opened and Doug stepped out. "Paigey!" he said brightly as Paige's face fell. His eyes dropped to the smear of makeup on Paige's chest. "What happened to your tit?"
Paige sighed. Daydreams would have to wait.
***
She'd got a text from Marie on Friday afternoon, suggesting they meet at a vegan place. It was right around the corner from Paige's apartment but Paige had never tried it. It was, after all, a
vegan
place. Nonetheless, Paige agreed to meet Marie there at eight. It'd be good to try something new tonight.
Paige got there first. It was nice: woody with pale paneling and unpainted furniture; lively with brightly colored wall hangings, tablecloths and napkins that favored reds, greens and yellows. The music was some wheezy third world stuff that was boring but easy to tune out. She was shown to the booth by the window and handed a menu and a wine list. She eyed the wines but ordered a white tea instead. As she waited she immediately commenced to fretting that Marie would stand her up.
It would serve her right if she did. Just before leaving her apartment Paige had sent Doug a text canceling their date. Then she blocked his number. They were supposed to go some party: a "wild" party, he'd said. She'd only agreed to it to get rid of him. She had delayed canceling until the last possible minute so as to not endure hours of his exhausting attempts at persuasion and now she was feeling a little guilty. Why was she so intend on giving Doug the brush off? Sure, he was balding, kind of short and pretty dorky, but he was nice - if a little crude - and he was a successful guy. And, as she had discovered last week, he had other favorable attributes, or rather, a particular
attribute
: an attribute that had made her come several times during their one night together and left her with a few days of lingering soreness in some tender places.
Paige fought to push those memories down. God, how embarrassingly out of control she had been: moaning and scratching like a cat in heat, begging him to "fuck her harder", letting him do things to her that she'd never done before. She had frightened herself.
Her tea had just arrived when a long black limousine double parked out front. It sat there for several minutes, no one entering or leaving. As she sipped her tea Paige amused herself by staring into the tinted glass and imagining various famous people in there, watching her. She finally settled on Bradley Cooper, imagining him smitten by the way she pursed her lips to blow lightly across the steaming surface of her beverage. She imagined a message sent to her with an invitation to join him in the limo. She imagined a slow drive around the city and through the park. Would he be an insistent lover, roughly taking what he wanted while Paige put up a token resistance?
Yes
, she decided,
he would
. She shifted in her seat and could feel a bloom of wetness, stirred up by her silly imagination.
She shook her head.
What's wrong with me lately?
She thought.
When the door to the limousine finally opened it was not Bradley Cooper who stepped out, but Marie MacDougall. She turned and bent over to say something to someone inside the car. Paige watched two guys on the sidewalk going opposite directions as they ogled Marie's posterior. They smacked right into each other with a ragged 'oof' and nearly went down in a heap. Paige laughed behind her tea as they untangled themselves while glowering accusingly at each other's carelessness.
As Marie stood and trotted towards the restaurant, Paige got a good look at what she was wearing. It was a red dress: tight, low-cut and short.
Slutty
would be the word Paige would use to describe it she decided.
Very
slutty.
Marie tic-tacked up to the table in her lofty red pumps. As they said their hellos a tall willowy woman with translucently pale skin and a long mass of frizzy, white-blond hair flitted up. "Hello Marie," she said in a soft, singsong voice.
"Hi Heather," chirped Marie.
"Hey, I wanted to know, are you going to the..." began Heather.
