Wanna Play

The elevator was crowded. When the jarring vibrations began, everyone sardined inside let out collective groans of disapproval. Everyone, except him. Directly in front of him was an awesome brunette, whose ass had been firmly sandwiched against his thighs the entire ride. She seemed the type to make the most of an unpleasant situation. On that fact, he'd bet his last dollar. When the elevator finally slid to a groaning, rumbling halt between floors, the two of them were the only ones pleased.

She glanced back over her shoulder, winked, and mouthed silently into the corner where he was hidden, "Wanna play?"

Distracted by her pouty lips, he could only nod silently. When her hand snaked around to the front of his slacks his gasp wasn't even audible above the angry mutterings of the crowd. Positioned as they were in the corner, back against the wall, neither was worried about being noticed. (Or perhaps they weren't worried for an entirely different reason.)

She brushed against his hardened cock, which was already straining forcibly against the front of his trousers. Quickly she unzipped his pants and slid her hand inside. His hot, throbbing maleness was already wet at the tip, and she used her fingertips to massage the slickness down the length of him.

Leaning up, he whispered softly against her neck, "What the hell are you doing?"

In response, she simply ground her hips slowly and seductively against his shaft, moving her hand for better access. "I'll do whatever you like," she whispered wickedly over her shoulder, while continuing her slow, intimate movements.

The mass of angry elevator inhabitants had begun to bicker among themselves. A stout occupant with a receding hairline grumbled, "How the hell much longer can this take? I've got an early meeting with the CEO."

She looked at the stranger and with a calm little smile, she said, "Oh, I don't think it will take much longer at all, do you, sir?" She directed her question to the hooded-eyed man she'd now figuratively as well as physically backed into a corner. She alternated between using her fingernails to gently stroke the fullness of his sack and her soft palm to massage the tightness of them.

"Oooh no, not long, at all," he replied in a voice hoarse with longing. The elevator shifted at that moment, and his rigid, engorged cock slipped from her fingers. She felt it press deeply into her ass cheeks and let out a moan of her own. Her voice was lost among the frightened cries of the crew. His strong hands grabbed her waist to steady her. Even if the elevator plunged into nothingness and killed them all, he knew he'd die a happy man. In his state of arousal he wasn't even able to fathom the precariousness of their physical safety. He gyrated his seven-inch cock against her ass and began to move his hands under her jacket. Inch by inch his long strong fingers massaged up the length of her ribcage, and he was amazed that her waiflike slenderness almost allowed his fingers to meet. He stopped when he reached the sides of her voluptuous breasts. She sighed. Peering over her shoulder, from his vantage point, he saw her nipples immediately pucker. Her seafoam silky blouse, which she'd matched with a toasted almond suit, provided little protection from his prying eyes. He was thankful.

Fearing she was losing control of the situation, she found his hardness again. "I'm in control here," she whispered. She forcibly squeezed his cock.

And just as abruptly as the elevator had stopped, it began again. The crowd clapped their hands in approval and in the background his moans still blended, quite unnoticeably. His hips bucked excitedly against her ass, and she quickly placed her hand back in position. Hurriedly, she stroked him, gripping his hardened member securely. Her soft, warm hand was slick with his juices, and weakly, he leaned his head backward against the elevator wall. When she clutched his sack, squeezing its fullness, he had to move his hands back to her hips to steady himself. Her index finger stroked the skin underneath his cock, while his testicles were secure in her firm grasp. Rocking against her tight ass, he finally exploded into her palm, which she'd cupped at his bulbous head. His knees weakened with the exertion it took for him to remain standing. Moaning, he leaned forward and rested a head against her shoulder. He turned his face toward the elevator wall, so as to be hidden from the celebrating occupants. Softly, quietly, his pants were miraculously buttoned, and her hand was again at her side.

Wiping his cum on a Kleenex obtained from her jacket pocket, she turned to him, "See ya tonight, hun." And, with a kiss on his cheek, she was gone.

Standing there, inhaling the faint lingering aroma of her perfume, he wondered how in the hell he deserved someone like her.

Grinning, he stepped from the elevator, anxious to begin the rest of his day...