Twenty-eleven hours, I looked at my watch as the metal walled box I was travelling in shuddered to a halt in a series of heart stopping jerks, to the accompaniment of frightening bangs and clanks. The lights dimmed, only the emergency lighting remained on, the elevator was stuck somewhere between the twenty-fourth and twentieth floors. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, heart hammering a staccato rat-a-tat-tat on my ribs as my fear level peaked.
My fertile imagination, fuelled by watching too many disaster movies ran wild. In my mind I saw a series of cinematographic stop motion images, showing the strands of the steel cables breaking one by one until the lift car hung by a thread. Taking a series of deep breaths I regained control of my mind and shut out the thoughts.
My sole companion was a woman in her thirties who looked like a typical secretary. She visibly relaxed when I spoke. "Shall I phone or will you."
"You're a woman!" She exclaimed. Funny how even in this age of sex equality, in a city where women executives are almost as common as males, there is still a preconception that all motorcycle couriers are male. Looking at the woman I realised that only a few minutes earlier she had signed for the first of the three packages I had delivered to firms on the top five floors of Mithras Tower. Her reaction was proof that in our leathers we are seen as objects rather than people. Then I realised I was equally guilty of pigeonholing people, initially I had only seen a mid-thirties ash-blonde office worker.
"I'll phone." She said opening the little flap that concealed the emergency phone. There was no instantaneous answer when she lifted the receiver, as we waited both of us grew more concerned. Nervously she tapped a pointed toe on the floor, I twisted and wrung at the clipboard in my hand.
"Hello Rapide Elevator and Escalator Services, Frank speaking. How may I help?"
"We are stuck near the top of Mithras Tower."
"Are you actually in the elevator?" Frank asked.
"Yes." She replied.
"What a pratt, why else would we be calling!" I muttered under my breath.
"How many of you are there?"
"Two of us."
"That's good at least you are not overcrowded. I am afraid you are going to be there for some time, construction work has damaged an electricity sub-station and the whole of Olympia Square has no power. Your lift is one of more than twenty lifts in need of rescue."
I snatched the phone from the woman. "How long is some time?" I demanded.
"Oh six maybe eight hours, less if they restore the power."
The man's cheery almost off-hand voice set my nerves on edge. I pictured him sitting in a comfortable office, with nothing to do other than answer the telephone. I was seething, stuck in a lift I was loosing money. To be honest all these feelings were probably triggered by my mild claustrophobia, not that the walls were pressing in on me nor was I screaming, but I did feel trapped. This was not the first time I had been trapped in a lift. I was sure it would not be the last time - lifts were an occupational hazard for everyone whose work took them into the tall office blocks of the City of London.
"Shit." The woman said kicking off the shoe of the foot she had been tapping. "Everything always goes wrong at the same time look a bloody hole." She said pointing to her big toe, which protruded through the gossamer of her tights. When she lifted her skirt I was treated to a tantalisingly swift flash of red knickers and a pair of shapely thighs. She hooked her thumb into the waistband of her tights and slid them down to her knees. Sitting down on the floor she removed her other shoe and completed removing the holed hose. "Might as well sit down, it's more comfortable than standing. You know that's my third pair of tights this week, of course you wouldn't have that problem."
I was dying for a cigarette, if the power was down the smoke detector would be disabled, I pulled a pack from my bag and lit up. The lift had an invitingly deep pile carpet, I lowered myself to the floor.
The woman coughed. Here goes, she is going to complain about my smoking. She coughed again. I looked at her. "Do you think I could have one of those?" I handed her a cigarette and my lighter. "Thanks, I gave up two years ago to get the job. There is a rigid no smoking rule throughout the tower."
I unzipped my leather jacket, took it off and rolled it up as a pillow. "Your making yourself comfortable." The woman laughed nervously.
"May as well." I replied. "Six hours is a long time."
"This is terrible already I feels like the walls are closing in on us."
"It could be worse. At least we are not in one of those external lifts, imagine sitting in one of those glass capsules exposed to everyone's gaze like an animal in a zoo." I said recalling the last time I had been stuck and that had only lasted for about two hours.
We fell silent, maybe I dozed. I became aware of a rhythmic sound. She was lying on her back one leg bent, the other crossed over it swinging, I smiled - she was masturbating. Watching her made me feel horny. The idea of making a move on her had not entered my mind, not even when she had removed her tights but this seemed to be an open invitation.
I slid across the floor to where she lay. She uncrossed her legs when I laid my hand on her thigh, then lifted her shoulders allowing me to slip my arm around her. Our lips met, her teeth parted to admit my tongue, her tongue curled itself around mine. My hand slid up her thigh, she parted her legs as I reached the top of her leg, my fingers slid under the damp material of her panties.
Her slit was already sopping wet. Her damp labia felt firm beneath my fingertips, moving a little deeper I found her erect clitoris. She gasped when I pinched it between my forefinger and thumb. I tugged at her clit, gently milking an orgasm from her.
Breaking off the kiss I slid down her body. Hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties and began to slip them over her hips, she assisted by lifting her bum and in a trice I had removed the lacy red garment. Meanwhile she had hiked her skirt up to her waist revealing her neatly trimmed heart shaped golden bush. "Very nice." I said as I traced the outline of the heart.
"Glad you like it."
The skin of her abdomen was textured with half moon dimples. Intrigued by them I traced their shapes, she wriggled. "That tickles."
Puzzled by what they were I continued to trace their shapes. "Please stop, surely my stretch marks aren't that interesting?" Stretch marks, I had heard of them, but to the best of my knowledge had never before been intimate with a woman who had had a child. Certainly I had never been with a woman who had stretch marks.
"Wait a minute." She said pushing me away. She got to her feet and went to the phone, once again there was a lengthy wait before we heard Frank's voice. "Frank is that you?"
"Yes. Two in a lift in Mithras Tower right?"
"That's right. Can you tell us how much longer."
"They say the supply will definitely be back on in five to six hours, so unless there is a medical emergency that is how long it will be."
"Thanks."
She hung-up the handset and rejoined me back on the floor. "It's warm in here." She said as she began to undo the buttons of her blouse. I pulled her nearer to me and undid the remaining buttons. Her blouse fell open revealing her white bra. Through the fabric I could feel her nipples. A man would have torn her bra from her, I preferred to take my time. Building up to the moment of removal by gently teasing and tormenting those tender orbs. My fingers traced the shape of her curves through the material, gently moulding them in my cupped hands Kneading the encased globes. At last I got the reaction I had been seeking to provoke when she pleaded with me. "Please... please touch them, take my bra off and touch them I want to feel your skin on mine."
