Smut Marathon 2018: Voting Round #8

Fifteen writers entered the eighth round – the quarter finals – when they received the assignment on 19 August. It seemed easy enough, but the challenge was to change a seemingly simple assignment into a story that will capture your reader’s attention. You, as the readers, may decide whether the writers have succeeded in the challenge by reading the fourteen stories below and voting for the three you like best.

The assignment

A man and a woman (strangers to each other) are stuck in a lift for hours.
What happens while they are there? What do they say? What do they do?
Please use at least 30% of dialogue in your story and for this round no scenes that can be classified as BDSM.

Stories had to be a maximum of 1000 words.

What should you do now?

Read all entries – you have a week to do so – and vote for the three stories you like best. You have to vote for three – no less, no more. Don’t forget to click the ‘Finish Survey’ button when you have made your choice!

Please note:

  • Writers are not allowed to tell anyone which entry they have written!
  • You can only vote once.
  • The voting round closes on 22 September 2018 at 23.00 CET (Amsterdam time).
  • Results of the voting round will be published on this site on 23 September 2018 and then I will announce the author of each of the stories.
  • Only 10 writers advance to round 9, meaning we have to say goodbye to 4 writers at the end of this round.
  • Please note that entries are not placed in the order in which they have been received. I use a randomizer to order the entries.

One last thing

I know it’s a lot to read and even more to ask, but it would be lovely if you could leave as much feedback as possible on the entries, or to make it more manageable, please leave feedback on the three entries you chose as well as three entries you have not chosen. Make sure your feedback is composed in such a way that the writers can learn something from it. This will be highly appreciated.
(Feedback can be left in the comments section at the bottom of this post. Comments will only be approved after the voting round has closed.)

Enjoy reading and start voting!

~ Marie Rebelle


1) Say It Out Loud

“I fucking hate my sister. She’s a selfish cow who’s lived off our parents for years without lifting a finger to help them out.”

“I fired someone because deep down I knew he was better at his job than I’ve ever been. It was kill or be killed – if I hadn’t pushed him out, he’d be my boss by now.”

“I cheated on my husband last summer. It only happened once, but it was the best sex I’ve had in 20 years. He still doesn’t know.”

“Sometimes I wish I’d never had kids.”

I paused for breath, and slumped against the ski lift’s cold plastic seat. Even in gloves so padded and bulky I had to take them off to scratch my nose, I could feel my fingers slowly going numb. Marta grinned across at me, then followed my gaze as I turned to stare out of the plexiglass window.

“Christ. It’s hard to believe there’s another living soul within 100 miles of here.”

Our gondola rocked gently in the frozen night sky. When I’d jumped in for one last trip up the mountain before the lift closed for the night, the attendant had been flirting with a young Austrian snowboarder; two hours later I clung to the hope that he’d seen us, but with each passing minute my composure and certainty were draining away.

“Come on, Nathan. There must be more.”

~
Marta had already been in the lift when I’d clambered awkwardly through the narrow door, skis catching on the step. For 45 minutes after we’d lurched and shuddered to a halt, neither of us spoke. She calmly pulled a paperback from some hidden pocket inside her jacket, while I fiddled with my phone, waiting for the mechanism to kick us forward again.

Finally she closed the book and stared at me.

“Está tan oscuro afuera. ¿Qué pasa si somos los únicos aquí?”

I shrugged an apology, unable to match anything she’d said to the fuzzy mental image of my high-school Spanish textbook. However, once she switched to near-flawless English (“my husband is American – sometimes I think my English is better than his”), words seemed to tumble out into the space between us.

Her: Marta. 44. Musician (“I teach the violin for no money and play it for even less”). Basque not Spanish. Catholic (pause – “very lapsed”, with a throaty laugh).

Me: Nathan. 35. Advertising (“but not the shitty, shiny-suit kind”). Two kids and a scary mortgage. Wondering where the hell 10 years went.

Talking didn’t make the late-January air any warmer, nor did it stop me checking my watch every 30 seconds to see how long we’d been suspended high above the gleaming white slopes. However, as Marta told me about her new puppy (“oh God, he shits everywhere“) and cooed appreciatively over the family photos I scrolled through on my phone, it did at least feel like we were in it together.

After warding off oppressive silence for a full hour, we both paused, suddenly unsure where to go next. Marta shifted in her seat and pressed the tip of her boot against my shin.

“No-one else can hear us up here, you know. We could say anything to each other. All the things we carry around with us. All the things we’re scared to let out.”

I kicked her back, flexing my toes to get some blood flowing through them.

“Sure, that could be fun. You go first.”

~
Marta took my hand and squeezed it.

“Please. Don’t stop now.”

“When we were teenagers, I used to suck my best friend’s cock. I did it for the first time in 15 years at his wife’s birthday party last month. He’s convinced she saw nothing, but the way she looks at me…if I didn’t know better, I’d say she gets off on it.”

“I bet she does. I would.”

I looked down to see one of Marta’s gloves on the metal floor. She slipped her fingers under mine and stroked my wrist. I watched the air fill with delicate clouds of breath I didn’t know we were holding.

“My turn.” Marta’s chin dipped, and a stray lock of jet-black hair escaped from under her bobble hat. I reached for it instinctively, brushing my thumb over her forehead as she spoke. “Joder! Ok. I’ve never had sex with a stranger, Nathan. I think I want to change that.”

For about 15 seconds, neither of us said another word. I slid my hand behind her ear and just held it there, my face inches from hers. I could feel my cock getting hard, pushing through my thin long johns against the rough fabric of salopettes I’d borrowed from my wife’s brother. I pushed that last thought firmly out of my mind.

Marta leaned forward and I pulled her head towards mine, anticipating her kiss. Instead she shook off my hand and wriggled down from her seat to kneel between my legs. My heart felt like it was going to burst through my jacket as she pushed me against the back rest and tugged at my zip.

Bundled up in my ski gear, I hadn’t realised how much the temperature had dropped, till the cold air hit my hard cock. My skin felt so sensitive that I almost came at the first careful drag of her hot tongue across the head. The gondola swayed in the wind as she wrapped her fingers round the shaft and moved it experimentally back and forth, her lips pursed together in a definite smirk.

“Yes Nathan – I think this will work.”

After so much fluent conversation, the noise that came out of my mouth as Marta slid hers down my cock was barely human. The world spun like I’d just stepped off a rollercoaster, and I thrust my hips up to meet her.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuuuuuuck.”

I still hoped the lift was just broken. That we’d get down before morning. But another hour or two trapped up there would be fine…


2) The Best Laid Plans

ACT 1

(A man and woman wait for an elevator in a busy lobby. The man wears slacks, a dress shirt, and a tie. The woman wears a simple, gray shift and flats, hair loose and shoulder length.

The man presses the up arrow and checks his watch. He sighs… the kind that almost sounds like pleasure…the kind that accompanies arched backs and shuddering bodies.

A tinny bell chimes, and the doors open like gold curtains.

The man enters, and the woman follows. Behind them, four men in gray coveralls, seemingly lost in conversation, miss their chance and hold up others who are also impatiently waiting to board. The doors close. Inside, only the man and woman stand, side-by-side. The man presses a button on the number panel and then turns to the woman.)

Anthony: Floor?

Kelly: Twenty-eight, please.

(They continue to stand, side-by-side, facing forward for several seconds. Kelly bites her lip and takes several sidelong glances at Anthony. The elevator shakes suddenly and lurches to a stop. Anthony manages to stay on his feet, naturally spreading his legs to accommodate the imbalance of the movement, while Kelly loses her center and slams into the mirrored panel, finding her balance again as the elevator re-stabilizes.)

Anthony: Fuck. (Pushes buttons on number panel, then throws up hands, rolls eyes, and breathes in sharply)

Kelly: What happened?

Anthony: Elevator’s stuck. Happens all the fucking time in this god-forsaken building. But, I’m not about to use the fucking stairs. I’d be a sweaty goddamn mess by the time I got there.

Kelly: (Smiles at that) I prefer the stairs. And I am usually a sweaty mess by the time I get to work.

Anthony: (Smirking good-naturedly in response) You work here?

Kelly: Yes. Schermer and Deitz. I’m a para-legal.

Anthony: Ahh…

Kelly: What do you do?

Anthony: Assistant editor… Think Magazine.

(Anthony resumes his impatient battle with the number panel, but gives up, sighs, and begins digging in his messenger bag, pulling out a cell phone and tapping his fingers on the screen.)

Anthony: Kate? Yeah…it’s the fracking elevator again… Uh-huh… Alright… Thanks, love. (Turns to Kelly) Kate’s my boss. She’s got maintenance on the line. Help should be on the way.

ACT 2

Anthony: (Speaks into cell phone) It’s been three fucking hours! This is horse shit…. (Calmer) I know, Kate. I know it’s not your fault. Just keep me updated. (Drops cell phone in bag and looks at Kelly.) Fucking workmen can’t seem to find the problem.

(They are sitting on the floor of the elevator, in separate corners, facing the door. Anthony’s tie has been removed, and his top buttons are undone. Camera pans to the mirrored door, showing just a hint of what is up Kelly’s dress, shadowed nothing, as she uncrosses and recrosses her legs. Camera pans back to Anthony’s face as he notices. Kelly breathes in deeply, as if gathering her courage, and looks directly at Anthony.)

Kelly: This is very bold…not at all like me…and the fact that I can’t quickly run away and hide after I say this is terrifying…and maybe it’s the recirculated air…but fuckitall…we’ve been talking about everything and anything for three hours and I can’t stop staring at your lips and I’d very much like to kiss them. (Stares at her tightly clasped hands in her lap and breathes heavily to make up for not breathing through her exposition.)

Anthony: (Smirks) Why does it always take women so long?

Kelly: Excuse me?

Anthony: Every guy I know would have already taken advantage of this situation.

Kelly: Oh. (Pauses, furrows brow, appears offended) Then why haven’t you?

Anthony: I have manners. And patience. And I wanted to give you time…to see what you’d do. (Leans closer to Kelly and clears throat in encouragement.)

Kelly: How do you know there will be enough? They could rescue us at any moment?

Anthony: True. So, you’d better get on it. (Smiles and raises eyebrows)

(Kelly scoots closer to him, takes his face in her hands, and softly runs her tongue across his lips. Anthony closes his eyes as she spreads his lips with her tongue, searching for his. He gladly gives it, his hand finding her bare thigh, which she spreads almost imperceptibly to accommodate further searching. After a several-minute’s kiss, Kelly pulls away, slowly, and smiles, running her thumb across Anthony’s lips to remove a trace of lipstick.)

Kelly: (Shyly averts gaze) You taste like cinnamon.

(There is a slight hum as the door actuator comes to life, and the doors open. Four men in gray coveralls stand outside. Anthony gets to his feet and helps Kelly to hers.)

Workman 1: Looks like we got it taken care of. You’re free to go.

Workman 2: Until next time! (Laughs, and the others join in.)

Anthony: Finally! I thought for sure we’d be in there all night… (turns to Kelly and adds quiet addition) …which maybe wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world (winks conspiratorially and picks up his bag)./

Kelly: (Blushes and giggles quietly to self) No…it wouldn’t have been.

Anthony: (Walks past workmen. Stops briefly to look back at Kelly.) How ’bout we take the stairs?

Kelly: I think that’d be a wise.

(Anthony moves toward staircase as Kelly returns briefly to workmen and smiles giddily.)

Kelly: Excellent timing, Jim. I really owe you. It worked perfectly.

Anthony: (Shouts from a short distance) Coming?

Kelly: (Whispers) Not yet…but I hope to be…soon…


3) It’ll cost you

‘I was just wondering,’ the man says, when the lift doors have barely even closed behind him. ‘What –’

She interrupts before he can finish. ‘I could tell you, but it’ll cost you.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘It’ll cost you. To know how I ended up like this.’ She gestures to her wheels.

‘That wasn’t what I was going to ask.’

‘Sure it was,’ she says, and she grins – half charm, half menace – dimples and teeth showing at the same time. ‘Don’t worry. You’re not the first person to ask. You are the first I’ve decided to charge, but maybe I’ll give you an introductory discount.’

‘This is ridiculous.’

‘Shall we say a tenner?’

For a moment, he is speechless. Then something, perhaps her cleavage or the flirtatious way she toys with her hair, makes him decide to play along.

‘Seven fifty.’

‘Only if you have it exactly. I don’t carry change.’

‘Five, then.’

‘Are you kidding? Five pounds? For me to tell you my deepest, darkest secret?’

‘It can hardly be your darkest secret. I mean, it’s fairly obvious that something happened to you.’

‘Look, Mr Know-It-All, ten pounds, or this lift’ll reach –,’ she peers round him to see which button he hit, ‘– the ground floor, we’ll both go our separate ways and you’ll spend the rest of your life wishing you knew what’d happened to that pretty blonde girl in the wheelchair.’

‘Fine,’ he says, with a shrug and a smile. ‘Fine, you win. We’ll call it ten, but on one condition. When we get to the ground floor, you’ll buy me a coffee.’

‘Then I don’t get ten pounds, do I?’

‘Two minutes ago, you were happy with seven fifty.’

‘I see what you did there.’

‘Clever, huh?’

He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and, from a battered leather wallet, takes out a crisp ten-pound note.

She snaps it out of his hand before he can change his mind.

‘Go on then’ he says. ‘What happened?’

Suddenly, the lift jerks to a halt.

‘Uh oh,’ she says, but she’s quietly delighted.

She tucks the money into her bra, pretending not to notice his eyes widen. She loves middle-aged, middle class men who think nothing can surprise them.

‘I could tell you that,’ she says, ‘or, seeing as we seem to be stuck here for the moment, I could …’

‘Could what?’ His hand is poised over the intercom button, but he hasn’t pressed it.

‘I could tell you my deepest, darkest secret. Your call.’

‘Ooh,’ he replies. ‘Decisions, decisions …’ His hand falls away from the button.

She pretends not to care which he chooses. She continues to play with her hair, fiddles with the chunky gold ring on her index finger.

He’s pretending too, dragging it out, studying the ‘In case of emergency’ notice on the wall.

‘You could flip a coin,’ she suggests.

‘I don’t have any coins,’ he says. ‘Remember?’

‘I’ll lend you one,’ she says, digging in her purse.

‘You don’t keep the coins in your underwear, then?’

‘Can’t tell you, sorry – you’ve only paid for one secret.’

He shakes his head. ‘Okay, okay … so, if it’s tails you’ll tell me your deepest secret, if it’s heads, how you ended up in the chair?’

‘If you say so.’ She flips the coin. ‘Tails.’

‘I’m ready,’ he says.

‘For the deepest, darkest thing I’m willing to admit? Are you sure?’

‘Quit stalling.’

‘I really want to suck your cock.’

‘Wow, I –’

‘Can I?’

‘Here?’

‘I mean, there’s not much else to do.’

‘Then be my guest.’

She manoeuvres her chair so she’s facing him. Her hands are trembling. In everything she does, she’s eighty per cent bravado, twenty per cent pure stupidity and this is no exception. Still, popping open his button fly soothes her frayed nerves. It makes her really fucking wet, too.

He helps by shoving his jeans and his white cotton briefs down around his thighs. She scatters tiny kisses across his stomach and his hands flutter in mid-air, as if he can’t decide where to put them. But, when she wraps her lips around his dick, they settle on the back of her head, just as she was hoping.

There’s nothing she likes better than a blow job. There are lots of things she’d like to be able to do in bed that are tricky for her, but cock-sucking? The wheelchair could almost be considered an advantage. She never gets sore knees.

He groans, the sound coming from deep in the back of his throat, but the noises she makes are just as eager – she whimpers around the thick, velvet length of him until he can’t help but push even deeper into her mouth. The lift has no mirrors, but if it did, she’d revel at the panda-like smudge of her mascara and the birds nest his fingers have made of her hair.

‘You like that?’ he says, to no one in particular, and they both burst out laughing when she pulls her mouth away from his dick momentarily and says ‘I fucking love it.’

When he comes, she swallows, holding his gaze as she does. She licks her lips. She’s not play-acting the role of porn star – she’s genuinely in her groove.

‘That was incredible,’ he says, bending to kiss her forehead. As if in agreement, the lift gives a loud creak and jolts into life again.

‘I still want that coffee,’ he says.

‘Maybe tomorrow?’ she suggests. ‘Same time, same place?’

‘You bet I’ll be here.’

When the lift doors slide open, he stands aside to let her pass, and she rolls off in the direction of the Ladies to clean herself up. ‘Oh, by the way,’ she calls over her shoulder, ‘it’s a genetic disorder. But what you learnt about me instead was far more interesting, wouldn’t you say?’

He can’t see her smirking, but he can sure as hell imagine it. The thought of it makes him hard all over again.


4) Unexpected delay

‘Are you wearing it?’

Even over the phone, Sam could hear the desire in Danny’s voice. He sounded husky, his voice roughened by need.

‘Of course I am – as instructed!’

‘How does it feel?’

‘It feels…heavy. I had squeeze hard to stop it slipping out as I climbed the stairs and it feels good. It feels really good.’

Sam could hear his laugh rolling into her ear as she walked into the apartment block. Damn, that laugh turned her on more than the pull of the plug in her arse. She could hardly ignore its weight, stretching and filling her as she walked, but it was his laugh that really got her juices flowing. She could feel the slick on her thighs as she stood waiting for the lift, feel the heat building in her belly as she clenched around the plug. Its metallic chill had gone, lost in the warmth of her body during the 20-minute journey to his block, but it was still fucking solid.

‘Are you nearly here? I don’t want to wait for you much longer. To see your perfect arse adorned with that big silver bauble. To fuck you so both your holes are so full that…’

‘The lift is here,’ she gasped, ‘Hold that exact thought.’

With shaking legs, she stumbled into the lift, pressing the button for the 7th floor with more aggression than was necessary, as if it would speed up the journey.

‘Woah, careful. You might break it!’

This new voice made Sam jump. She hadn’t noticed anyone else in the lift.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘The button. This lift is old, treat it with respect!’

‘OK…’ Sam looked sceptically at the stranger as the doors closed. Was he for real? ‘Danny, I have to go.’

‘Can’t we stay talking in the lift? I’m enjoying teasing you.’

”Fraid not. You know there’s no signal and, anyway, someone else is here.’

‘Are they hot?’

‘Goodbye!’

By now, the lift had started its lumbering progress upwards. Whoever this guy was, he was right about the lift being old. Sam had always been wary of the juddering, shaking progress the lift made as it rose to the higher floors, but she was not going to climb 7 flights of stairs with a fuck off massive butt plug inside her!

When she looked more closely, the stranger was kind of hot. More clean cut than Danny. More preppy with a certain innocence about him that Sam suddenly wanted to corrupt. Oh God, she was too turned on to be checking out strangers! She gave the plug another squeeze to ensure it wasn’t slipping and shivered at the wave of pleasure that washed through her. Only 6 floors to go…

Except that somewhere between the 4th and 5th floor, the lift stopped.

‘OK, how hard did you press that button?’

The stranger was grinning at her, but Sam was not amused.

‘Ah…not hard enough to break?’

He stabbed experimentally at the keypad, but the lift was not budging. After waiting a few more moments, he pressed the call button to speak to the superintendent.

‘Hey! We’re in the middle lift and, um, it’s stuck.’

‘Not again!’ The gruff voice of the super crackling over the intercom was not the reassurance that Sam wanted. ‘This happened last week too. I’ll call the engineers. Are you all OK? It took nearly five hours to get it moving again last time.’

‘Five hours??’ Sam could hear how shrill she sounded but she didn’t care. This was not happening!

‘Yeah…sorry. I’ll check in when I know more.’

This was an absolute disaster! Adrenaline, panic and disappointment flooded Sam and she could feel herself starting to shake.

‘Are you OK?’ The worry on the stranger’s face somehow made him look more delicious. Oh, Sam was in a bad way!

‘Yes. Yes I am.’ Sam took a shuddering breath. ‘I just, ah, had plans with a guy upstairs and didn’t expect to have to wait five hours.’

The plug in her arse was starting to weigh her down. She’d never worn it for more than two hours but she couldn’t take it out here!

Except that three hours later, she was seriously considering it. Sitting on the floor and shifting her weight to find comfort only served to move the plug, constantly reminding her of its presence. Her flesh felt tender and sensitised, and even the boredom hadn’t settled the arousal that was skittering under her skin. All it had done was give time to the fantasies that crowded her brain, fuelling the simmering orgasm that she was unable to relieve. It was like involuntary edging, falling closer and closer until she feared her discomfort would give her away to Ed, the once stranger who now featured in many of her fevered fantasies.

‘So we’ve talked about family, work, holidays – all the standard small talk topics – and we’re still here. What’s next?’

‘I want to know what your plans were with that guy upstairs.’ Ed spoke in such a nonchalant fashion that Sam almost missed his change in tone. ‘Tell me to mind my own business if you want, but I’ve enjoyed watching you. You’ve clearly been…struggling.’

‘Oh?’

‘The flush that keeps rising up your neck, those gasps you think I don’t hear, that slight sheen of sweat on your top lip that’s been driving me crazy. You look like you’re constantly about to come and I’d love to know why.’ Taking his cue from the smile spreading across her face, he continued, ‘Because, honestly, you look sexy as hell and I could…help? If you wanted?’

‘Well…’

And at that moment, the lift jerked into action and started finally moving upwards.

When the door opened on the 7th floor to reveal Danny, pacing the corridor and waiting for her, Sam grabbed Ed’s hand and pulled him out of the lift with her.

‘Hey Danny, I’ve made a new friend. Do you mind if he joins us?’


5) A Deadly Sin

It was probably strange that she didn’t know how she had got there. But it felt natural, like waking up to the same walls, windows and sheets her eyes adjusted to every morning.

“Which way, miss?”

Bella hadn’t noticed the bellhop behind her. Not bothering to look at him, she took in the buttons of the elevator – two arrows. Up or down.

“I can’t… I’m not sure where I was going. Down? No, um, up. I’ll go up, please.”

“Righto, miss.”

The elevator sprung into action, for the first time giving her a feeling of discomfort as it shot upwards. Her feet almost defied gravity as it transitioned into a swift momentary drop. Juddering into a halt that zapped the electric from the ring light above them. The glow of the two buttons relieving the darkness.

“What the hell is going on?!”

“I’m sorry, there must have been a fault. Unfortunately, this does happen occasionally. I’m sure we will be heading in the right direction soon.”

“Well, I should hope so. I have somewhere I have to be.” She lied.

“Sorry, I’ve got to sit down. I’ve been on my feet all day and they’re rather sore.” She lied, again.

Looking up, she took in her elevator companion. Eyes dancing over him, she felt like all of the missing electric had shot into her chest. Exquisite seemed too little a word to describe him. He was so beautiful Michaelangelo couldn’t even have imagined him. So tall he’d have to lift her so she could sink her tongue into the dimples surrounding his pomegranate lips. Below his kilt, strong legs peeked through a storm of dark hair. She envisaged tangling her fingers into the wiry mane, as they ascended higher… Higher…

“Mint, madam?”

She jumped back to reality, realising she had been boring her eyes into him for an uncomfortable period of time.

“Sorry? Oh, yes. Thank you.”

Absentmindedly, she grabbed two and popped them in her mouth. Whilst sucking, Bella attempted to devise a plan of seduction.

“I’m Bella, by the way.”

Her hand extended slightly.

“Nice to meet you, Bella.”

Fuck. Why isn’t he ripping my clothes off?

“So, have you, um, been a bellhop long?”

Dammit. I’m going to repel him like this.

“For longer than there have been stars in the sky.”

She giggled, whilst simultaneously melting at his devilish grin.

Beautiful.

“Would you mind lending a hand, please? I somehow managed to have gotten my hair clip stuck. These things can be awfully fiddly and I’ve no mirror.”

“Certainly, miss.”

He closed the gap between them, leaving seconds to catch a forbidden glimpse under the tartan that fell so close to her nose.

“Oh!”

She hadn’t meant to make a sound. But, she hadn’t been expecting that view either. A hint of cock, glowing amongst the hairy forest of darkness. He didn’t respond but leant close enough for her to feel the warmth exuding his body. The heavy fabric rose as his cock responded to her attentive gaze. His eyes glistened with desire,

“Forgive me if this is inappropriate, miss. But, would you, perchance, like to…”

His eyes darted down to the hidden swelling. She didn’t answer but allowed him to pull her up from the carpet. Gradually, he swept his fingers up the inside of her arm, her heart beating like an African drum in response, the rhythm echoing through her body. He grabbed her hips, lifted her body and slammed it against the elevator wall growling,

“Wrap your legs around me.”

She abided as his tongue danced inside her mouth. Releasing his lips only to grunt,

“Damn, you taste so fucking good.”

It robbed her of all decorum.

“Lick my ear… Bite my lip… Oh God, yes… Suck my nipple… You don’t need to be so gentle, come on, just fucking grab em!”

The urgency and need were so palpable she felt possessed by her lust. An angry passion screaming to have it harder, faster, deeper. His fingers diving into her cunt made her feel alive, but she wanted more. She was greedy for him, yearning for all of him at once. His mouth, his fingers, his cock, his fist.

“Oh God, you’re so hard!… Yes! Just like that… Don’t stop… Harder… God, please don’t stop… I’m gunna come… I’m gunna…”

She moaned incoherently in his ear as her creamy juices flooded over his swollen dick. But, a fearful sickness came with every pulse of her cunt. As he gripped her tightly, Bella watched his eyes turn from whisky to obsidian. Erupting into a molten red that bathed her body in a crimson glow. She wanted to scream, but no noise would escape. She was frozen in fear, his cock still rigid inside her.

A blinding flash of white light hit them as the elevator came back to life. Flipping her stomach up and then back down with a thump as the small room descended at speed. Dropping Bella onto legs unable to keep her vertical, the lava-eyed Bellhop finally spoke,

“For the rest of eternity, you will suffer in the knowledge that you, Isabella, are a sinner!

“What? Wait, I don’t understand. Surely, there’s been a mistake. I’m not dead, am I? I’m not even a sinner. I promise you, I’m a good person.”

“You’ve stepped into the arms of the devil. You’re a sinner of the flesh, impure and consumed by lust. Isabella, you are a slave to evil and will, forever, be punished with the knowledge of your sins!”

The booming voice came from the walls, the floor, the light, her head. The elevator thudded and trembled as it stopped, the doors opening into an expanse of blackness. Shaking and weak, Bella crawled into the final fate that was promised, iron doors slamming behind her.


It was probably strange that she didn’t know how she had got there. But it felt natural, like waking up to the same walls, windows and sheets her eyes adjusted to every morning.

“Which way, miss?”


6) Time Off

Preoccupied, I jumped into the lift, one thumb pressing send on a work text at 17:45. The other hit the button marked ‘gym’, reeling from meeting Taylor, my boss. He’d explained that top-drawer broker accounts usually went to the Oxbridge crew, but all the hard work I’d put in had earned me this big chance.

What he meant was, working-class heroes don’t normally get a look-in. I’d grown up with Mum on a Catford council estate. Local grammar school, then Durham University, one of the best.

After two bottles of Moet, we snorted a line. Putting an arm around me, “I’m depending on you son.”

I was still processing this when with a shuddering jolt the lights flickered and the lift ground to a halt. I fell forward onto the steel doors.

Next thing I knew sweat crept down my temples. Light-headed, I inhaled as the dull thud of my heart echoed in my ears. In the grim dark I found my phone and clicked torch. 17:55. The small space lit up.

Turning I saw her. “Hello.”

“What? Fuck.” I clasped my forehead, dizzy and disorientated.

“The lift jammed between floors. Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m OK.” I lied.

“I think you hit your head.”

“Could’ve. It’s a bit tender.”

“I’m Cas – Cassandra Hatman.”

“Eh – lemme see if I can call someone. I’m Fraser. ”

“Wow. Very technical phone. I’ve never seen one so colourful and streamlined.” She had a plummy accent.

“The latest model. Work gave it to me. Would you Adam and Eve it? No bloody signal.” 18:02.

“Don’t worry. The lift will start up soon.”

Slightly alarmed I stabbed at the emergency switch.

“I shouldn’t even be here, Fraser.” Attempting to distract me. “I was heading home and thought I’d take a look at the new gym. Perhaps even sign up.”

She was twenty-something, no make-up, didn’t need any. Skin almost translucent and her lips had a sexy pink tinge.

“The gym ain’t new. Great equipment though.” It opened ages ago. “Do you work near ‘ere? ”

“As of yesterday. I’m from Gloucester. It’s so different – these London girls look like supermodels and I… I need to lose a few pounds.” Her nose crinkled as she spoke.

Having a quick gander at her breasts in that midi-dress, I thought she looked great, stylish, kind of retro. She was built, alright. The tight belt emphasised her toned abs. This was one hot bitch.

“We could all do wiv a bit of exercise.” Wanting out, I let my mind wander. I would relish putting Cas through her paces.

I’ll undo some buttons on that dress.

My cock stirred.

Her tits will spill over a black lacy bra. Slipping the dress from her shoulders I’ll make short work of the clasp. Her skin will be smooth, dancing with freckles.

“I read this story once in a magazine,” her voice broke my trance. “Readers Digest. Anyway, it was about a faulty lift. The people inside sat down. You know, to conserve energy. We could try that?”

I sat. 18:55.

Then, I’ll weigh the heaviness of her boob in my hand. Look for a reaction in her wide blue eyes.

I was getting hotter, anxious. My pulse was speeding, the walls seemed to be closing in. Adrenalin burned in my veins – senses in overdrive. When she finally sat opposite, cross-legged, I smelled the warm perfume of her cunt and slumped back into the daydream.

Undoing the belt, her dress will fall – inviting curves exposed.

Blinking, I shook my head.

“Fraser, are you OK? You’ve gone rather pale.”

My breathing was shallow and my left arm ached.

“To be honest Cas, I feel like shit. Can’t see clearly.”

“It might help if we chat some more. Instead of me droning on why don’t you tell me some stuff about yourself?”

“Well, I work so bloody ‘ard I got no time for a social life.”

Stretching my sore arm. ” I’m trying to get ripped but I like the drink too much – and the rest,” I confessed.

“Fraser, listen. It’s important. You really have got to take care of yourself. The clock’s always ticking – we only get one shot, then it’s gone.”

Engaging yet melodic, her voice lulled me back to the fantasy.

Just in skimpy panties now, dark hair falling over luscious tits. Nipples rubbing on my crisp white shirt.

“Here, have a drink of water.” Handing me a bottle.

“Ta.” 19:30. I took a large gulp.

She’ll sigh as my hand explores inside her knickers. A girl like her won’t wax. I ‘ll tug her pubic hair before fingering her cunt. She’ll be wet already.

My cock pushed against my Calvin Klines.

She”ll grind onto my fingers as our tongues meet, hungry.

The lift lurched. Falling against my chest her lips momentarily brushed mine. We clung together as the lift clanked and shook.

“Fuck, it’s going down!” I yelled mouth parched.

She’ll grab my cock and it’ll swell – I’ll have no choice but to unzip my fly and –

“Hold onto me, you’ll be fine,” she whispered. I pulled her close as if my life depended on it.

The floor disappeared beneath us, snatching the phone from my hand.

Time stood still. 00:00. A violent jerk, then a deathly hush. The doors opened and I zoned out.

The hospital said my head was fine but my lifestyle was not. Nearing a coronary at thirty-one. And apparently, I’d been alone in the lift. Dumbfounded, I googled her name.

“07/07/1999 – 26-year-old Cassandra Hatman died following a lift failure in the Zenox Building, due to an electrical fault. The shaft was scheduled for maintenance after the opening of a gym.”

Nineteen years ago, same lift. A glitch in time? Her voice reverberated in my head, the clocks’s ticking, you really have got to take more care of yourself.

Confused but convinced, I rang work.

“Hi Mr Taylor. I am gonna need some time off.”


7) Going Down

My death was unexpected. I fell off a balcony while trying to impress a faceless date with acrobatic sex. Boom. Game over. I woke in what I assumed was the afterlife, but there were no flames or people being tortured by demons. There wasn’t a bright angelic light illuminating an unlimited taco bar with my loved ones standing in front of me holding out a plate. The afterlife was a stark office hallway that stunk of bleach with an elevator at one end.

I walked to the elevator and pressed the button. After a few minutes, there was a ding and the doors slid open. “The Girl from Ipanema” welcomed me as I stepped inside to see a panel buttons. I pressed one, and the sensation of moving downward made me stumble. It stopped and the doors opened to reveal a wall adorned by a huge neon sign spelling “Choose.”

“Choose? Choose what?” I asked out loud.

“CHOOSE!” boomed the response.

Cocks began to poke through holes in the wall like a bizarre sexual Whack-a-Mole game. I burst out laughing. Cocks! Glorious cocks! Big ones, little ones, cut, uncut, smooth, and pointy! This was a great surprise!

They waggled at me and smiling, I said, “Hello, boys.” I felt like I had to say something. They seemed friendly, and I didn’t want to be impolite.

A voice boomed, “CHOOSE NOW!”

“Ack! Not so loud! Eenie meenie miney moe, I choose YOU!”
I booped a shy looking cock with one manicured finger, and it bobbed happily.

“CHOOSE PROPERLY!”

I had no idea what a proper cock choosing should look like in the afterlife.

“A little help, please? I don’t know what to do,” I said, transfixed by the cock wall.

A lavender mist filled the elevator making me a bit dizzy and warm. Warm turned to heat as it spread through my body, and I began to sway in time to the never ending bossa nova rhythm. I needed to squeeze my breasts. Mmmmmmm. They felt fuller than I remembered. I pinched my nipples through the thin spandex of my dress and moaned out loud. The cocks shimmied in appreciation. I slipped out of my lacy black panties, hiked up my dress, and rubbed my bare ass against the wall. The cocks swelled and beckoned with their rosy tips.

“CHOOSE AND ENJOY!”

The mist swirled around me and tickled my thighs. The cocks tempted me and a familiar hunger gnawed in my belly. I needed to fuck. I needed to suck. I licked my lips and allowed myself to be drawn to a thick cock that was just at mouth level.

“Hello, cock. I need to lick you. Are you cool with me licking you, cock?”

“Please, do,” came a soft reply.

“Cock?! You can hear me?”

“Yes, but my name is Harold. You sound like an angel. Are you an angel? Your voice is the first sound I’ve heard here beyond the incessant muzak. Are you in an elevator? I’m in an elevator! I think I’ve been in here for days. I lost track of time. I don’t think I’ve spoken in days! Hello! Helloooo! Thank God, or whomever. It’s so good to hear another voice.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Harold. Is it really OK to lick your cock? It looks lovely.”

I heard a whimper as I gently cupped his balls and moved my mouth closer. The mist goaded me to be bold.

“Please…please do,” Harold yelped.

I parted my pink painted lips and allowed my tongue to tentatively sample the offering. A pearl of appreciation dripped into my open mouth, and I swallowed softly. The other cocks slipped away. Harold strained against the hole as I greedily enveloped him.

“YOU HAVE CHOSEN!”

The voice startled me and I broke my connection.

“Don’t stop. I think I may burst if you stop. Your mouth feels incredible. I bet you have a great dentist. It feels so good to talk. I think we will be the best of friends. I’m so happy!”

“Shut up, Harold!” I murmured under my breath. My head was swimming with heady want. The mist filled my little elevator room, flirting. Wet heat made my thighs slick while my hunger returned. I needed to ride that cock.

“Harold?”

“Oh, good! You’re still here! I thought maybe you left. I bet you’re pretty. You sound pretty. Are you a redhead? I love redheads. This place is so crazy. How did you die? I fell into a vat of pudding on a factory tour…”

“Shhhhhh. May I do whatever I wish to your cock?”

“Absolutely! I thought maybe this was Hell, but now that you’re here, I’m doubting myself. Where do you think we are?”

I ignored his questions and carnal need took over my body. I was pretty sure that the afterlife didn’t require condoms so I backed up against Harold’s cock with confidence. His voice kept droning on and on, but his cock felt divine. Every inch of him filled and swelled against my yearning emptiness. I used his thick cock to fuck myself hard as the mist caressed my body. The misty warmth brushed and tugged at my lips and tits. I felt his cock inside me twitch, and I knew I didn’t have much time. I ground against him and expertly found my sweet spot.

“FUCK, YES!” I howled as the mist coiled around me like a lover tripping every pleasure sensor in my body as I bucked against Harold’s incredible cock. Bliss coursed through my veins as orgasm racked my body. Heaven.

Harold’s spent cock slipped from my trembling pussy back into his hole.

“I guess this is goodbye! I enjoyed talking to you!”

“Bye, Harold!”

Silence returned as the elevator doors closed. The mist became cool and soothing. I felt incredible. More. My body demanded more. I pressed a button.

The doors opened.

“CHOOSE!” the voice commanded.

I smiled. I was going to like it here.


8) Meaningless Movements

The demon surveyed her new acquisition, licking her lips. He looked delicious, full of pain and torment.She was going to have fun. Hips sashaying, she stalked towards him…
Bending down to his crouched position, she rested her talons on his temples and waited. Snippets of information started streaming. Bit by bit, the demon extracted every morsel from his brain of the life he’d left behind. Building a complete picture of him, she knew his every emotion, his triggers, weaknesses… Rachel. She was ready.

“Mark? Mark!”
Mark opened his eyes, blinking at the fluorescent light. He focussed and glanced round confused. “Where am I? What happened?”
“I don’t know, hon. You… you just took a weird turn.”
“Raych?” The colour drained from Mark’s face. “But you’re… you’re dead…”
“Of course I’m not! I’m right here. What the hell are you talking about?”
The demon stood in the meatskin she’d crafted using Mark’s memories of Rachel. Mark had supplied everything she needed: gait, posture, intonation, vocabulary, joint memories… the whole damn lot.
“You died. I saw you, I watched you die. I…” Mark sobbed. Gut-wrenching tears bubbled out of nowhere and he pulled himself into a tight ball.
Rachel-demon crouched next to him. “I’m here, I’m here,” she soothed. “I don’t know what happened, but here, hold my hand, it’s okay…” She reached out, flesh warm now she’d fully connected to the skin.
Mark took her hand then dropped it, recoiling in horror. “But, you’re not covered in blood…” he whispered. “You’re not her. You can’t be. I’m dead, aren’t I?”
“No! Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but we’re here, together. I’m not dead. You’re not dead.”
Rachel-demon held him, kissing his face, comforting him in a way that was familiar to both humans, alien to her. Mark’s sobbing slowed and he straightened out, calmer. “Fuck, Rachel. I don’t know what happened. It was awfu—.” He stopped, grabbing her face and kissing her until they were both out of breath. “I really don’t know. I thought I’d lost you. I thought you were—.”
“Shhhh.”
The elevator shuddered to a halt, lights flickering.
“Dammit,” Rachel-demon intoned, pretending the event was unscripted. She knew the drill. “What’s going on?” She hit a few buttons on the control panel, faking frustration.
“I don’t want you to leave me, Raych.” Mark whispered in a weak voice. “Fuck, that was horrible.”
“I won’t. I’m here for a very long time.” Rachel-demon kissed him again, sliding her hands round his waist, fingers lingering on his belt. She reached lower, finding Mark’s cock already hardening under her fingertips.
“No. Not here. What if we get caught?” he said, glancing round the small space.
“We won’t.” Rachel-demon smiled, unzipping his fly. “Mmmmm. You’re ready for me, aren’t you?”
She knelt down, fingering his cock until it sprang proud. “Your dick never ceases to amaze me. Let me worship it.” She hoped Mark was too distracted to notice the slight departure from Rachel’s usual script; she did love human cock, unusual though it was for a demon.
She glanced up to check his reaction. Mark was staring down at her in awe, gathering her hair to give himself a clear view. Rachel-demon swirled her tongue round the tip of his cock in response. Mark groaned.
“God, Raych. That’s so good. Your mouth on my dick… it was always so go—.” He stopped, his cock softening as he caught his own words.
“What do you mean ‘was’? I’m right bloody here. This is getting far too weird.” She waited, she knew humans always needed time, even when torturing themselves. “It’s okay, Mark. It was just a turn, some kind of nightmare. Forget about it, hon.” She stroked her fingers down the length of his cock again, relieved as it grew hard again. Just how she liked.
Wrapping her mouth around him, she sucked and swirled her tongue, his cock swelling as he neared climax. She smiled, working a hand into his jeans to play with his balls. Sliding a finger along the underside, she reached the pucker of his ass and circled it, the muscle twitching against her.
Mark moaned, gripping her head harder in his hands, forcing her mouth down. “God. Yes. I’m going to come, Raych.”
He pumped her mouth full of come, groaning and bucking his hips. Rachel-demon swallowed every last drop, savouring the salty sweetness. It was the closest she got to eating her prey—rules were rules—and she was determined to enjoy it.
“Fuck, that was amazing. I can never get enough of that.” He fastened himself back up and walked her back against the opposite wall. “What on earth should I do with you?” he teased, pressing his hips against her. “I can’t return that particular favour. Don’t want us to get caught when this damn thing starts moving.”
His fingers worked up the inside of Rachel-demon’s blouse and bra, finding hard nipples. “I’m sure I’ll think of something though…”
He pinched and pulled and she moaned in pleasure. This was unexpected; she didn’t realise the skin’s neural network had connected so intimately with her own. Mark must’ve really loved this Rachel. She pushed her hips forward, seeking the pressure of Mark’s thighs.
“Not so fast, Raych,” Mark laughed, giving her what she wanted.
The lights flickered and the elevator started moving. Rachel-demon moaned. Time for a new cycle and just as she was starting to enjoy herself. A thousand years of torment wasn’t just going to be for her victim.

“Raych? Rachel… wake up!” Mark shook her lifeless body, covered in blood. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
He staggered to his feet. “Look, it was just a small shove…”
He flailed backwards, slamming into the dresser before sinking to his knees. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He rocked back and forth, sobbing.

“Mark? Mark!”
Mark opened his eyes, blinking at the fluorescent light. He focussed and glanced round confused. “Where am I? What happened?”


9) Panic! In the Elevator

With a shudder, Jes abandoned taking the stairs and approached the elevator.

The elevator doors opened and the anxiety she was feeling tripled. Wobbly legs carried her into the waiting car.

“What floor?”

Ignoring the man, she pressed the button for tenth floor. Jes moved into the corner, pressing into the wood paneling, praying the people didn’t crowd her.

Jes whispered under her breath as the door closed.

“I will get off and go to my interview. I will not get stuck in here. I’ll do great on my interview. I will not get stuck on the elevator.

People exited, but Jes focused on her breathing as the door shut again. She was almost where she needed to go.

“I will not die in here,” she breathed out.

“Excuse me?”

Jes ignored the man, her eyes glued on the numbers. Almost there.

The elevator stopped with a jolt so abrupt she nearly slid to the ground.

“No. Oh no.” She couldn’t stop her pained groan. “Please no.”

The man eyed her with concern as he reached over to press the emergency button. Jes’s vision went fuzzy at the periphery.

“It’s all good, it happens a lot. They’ll get us out in under an hour.”

She could only give a panicked moan as her thoughts started to scramble.

“You okay?”

The overhead lights cut off and her legs gave out. She slid to the ground, her stockings ripping as she landed on her knees.

“Miss?”

“I can’t-”

Her choked reply was cut off as she started to hyperventilate. Jes could feel the walls closing in on her.

A big palm pressed into her sternum, halting some of her panicked spiral.

“Listen to my voice and follow my directions.”

His voice was sonorous as it reached down into her mind and pulled her from the edge. It tethered her to him, sending a jolt of awareness through her that tightened her nipples and made her cunt plump.

“Breathe out.” The palm pressed in, forcing her to exhale the breath she’d been holding. “Now take a nice deep breath and then blow it out nice and slow.”

She obeyed each command, taking one measured breath after another until her heart settled.

“That’s it. One more and then blow it all away.”

It was as she blew it out that she noticed how close they were.

He’d drawn her into an embrace during her meltdown, cradling her body in his lap. His arm was under her right breast, allowing his hand to rest between them. The smell of his cologne penetrated her fog.

The whole thing had a dizzying effect on her body. As the adrenaline wore off, the rest of her took notice of the man in whose arms she was cradled. Strong and sure, like he could handle her. He’d just demonstrated how easily.

Jes’s desire to show her appreciation must have radiated from her.

“An easy way to pass the time?” He murmured in her ear. “Just a lift of your skirt and a lowering of my zipper.”

Her breath caught. He’d fill her cunt up in that dark elevator, and make her forget she was trapped.

A different type of moan eased from her lips then.

“Feeling better now?”

His low tone said he knew her thoughts and that made her jumpy. She’d imagined him saying those naughty things to her. Embarrassment and arousal made her nasty.

“Shouldn’t you ask permission before manhandling a woman?”

He laughed, the sound making her want to squirm against him. Instead, he assisted her up and moved away.

Even as she moved to lean on the other wall, she could feel the wet slide of her labia from their contact.

“I love women falling at my feet, begging me to fuck them, but that was a bit much.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“In all seriousness, you needed someone and I couldn’t just leave you to panic. Why not help if I can?”

The change in his tone conveying his sincerity eased her.

“Thank you. I don’t know how you did it, but I appreciate your help.”

Jes retreated to her corner and fished her phone out, desperate to ignore the tension. No bars were visible so she settled for playing games on her phone. That passed an hour before her battery died.

She managed for a half hour more before panic rose again, something he sensed.

“How ya holding up?”

“Will we ever get out of here?”

“You could always talk to me. I make a good distraction.”

She huffed. “Listen, you may be irresistible to some women, but I wouldn’t give your over boring ass another glance. Dull as dishwater.”

A dramatic yawn followed up her comment.

“Oh, I got the impression you couldn’t resist me. You certainly seemed receptive not long after you fell at my feet.”

“Ha! Aren’t you just an arrogant bastard. Like hell, I’d fall at your feet.”

“Oh really?”

“Never more sure.”

He was close again. Jes could feel his breath on her cheek, his body inches from hers. She should feel defensive, claustrophobic even, but her body seemed to reach out for him.

“So sure I don’t know what you want. Your body tells a different story.”

He leaned closer and took a breath. His chest brushed her nipples and she felt an ache in her cunt from the contact. “I think you’d fall to your knees right now if I said the right words.”

Jes bit her lip.

“The things I’d do to you, if you’d let me.” He brushed his nose along her neck, and she shivered. “Without taking off any clothes. Would you let me?”

As she opened her mouth, the lights flickered on and the elevator restarted.

They separated, composed before they reached the floor. She exited and he followed behind her. When she stopped at the secretary, he moved into the office, turning before the door closed.

“We’ll see each other soon, I expect.”


10) The Long Way Home

I was lost in a dark and unwelcoming town. But I was content because after a long journey I had reached my destination. A sad, shabby hotel on the eve of extinction. A bit like me. I knew it in its heyday. The Hotel Splendid. A honeymooners paradise.

A young woman greeted me with a vibrant smile from behind the reception desk.

‘Mr Bright. Welcome to the Hotel Splendid. On this sad occasion.’

‘Sad?’

‘It’s the hotel’s last night and you’re the only guest. I’ve put you in the best room, on the top floor with a sea view. The one you asked for. The old bridal suite. And I’ve laid on champagne.’

‘What can I say?’

‘Say nothing. Enjoy. Breakfast is at eight.

The champagne was in a silver wine cooler on a small trolley which she wheeled across the threadbare Axminster towards the lift. She wanted to put my bag on the trolley but I said I’d hang onto it. Though I barely heard her question as I was distracted by her backside.

We hung about for a few awkward moments waiting for the lift to make its way, grudgingly, down to us. Awkward for me, at least, as an erection was starting to make its presence felt.

‘Hop in Mr Bright. Mind your bag, the door’s closing.’

As she reached behind me to press the button for the top floor I felt her hand, ever so gently, touch my leg. Not a million miles from where my erection was gathering momentum. I upbraided myself for the way my mind and body were going. I had work do to.

‘They should have built a bigger lift,’ she said.

‘Stingy buggers.’

She smiled at my witticism which I had embellished with a northern accent.

We were going up and then the lift sighed and came to a stop. Gently, without any fuss. As if it had no more to give.

‘Stay where you are Mr Bright. We’re stuck between floors. It’s happened before’

I admired her calmness. I myself had a certain amount of empathy with the weary lift but I really needed to be in my room and getting things done. She pressed an emergency button and a voice spoke saying that help would be on its way but it might be some time.

Then, as if to relax us, the light dimmed. There was no sense in standing so we both sat down and she placed the wine cooler and champagne on the floor beside us.

‘You might as well open it now. I could do with a drink,’ I said.

As she removed the cork I noticed that what I thought were tights were instead very long socks which came to just over her knees.

‘You don’t mind if I call you Terry?’

‘Of course not. We’re lift buddies now. I’m Terry and you’re Harriet. According to your name badge.’

‘Harriet. Yes. That’s me.’

We started on the champagne, taking it in turns to drink from the bottle. It was fun and we both laughed at the absurdity of our situation.

‘Do you travel a lot Terry?’

‘A fair bit. But it’s not all beer and skittles, I can tell you.’

‘Well have some more champagne. It might relax you. And yes, you can rest your hand on my thigh if it helps.’

‘It does. Thank you. I should have taken the stairs but I wanted to follow you.’

‘Because I’m hot?’ she teased.

‘Of course.’

‘I’d been crying when you arrived.’

‘I did notice. These are sad times.’

She was right. She was hot. Not a word I would normally use but it was so apt. In her uniform of black skirt, white blouse, dark socks and sensible shoes with toecaps shining like cherries she reminded me of a military person.

Our heads were so close together it felt only natural to kiss. Gently to start with and then more firmly. My hand moved up her leg and felt her cotton knickers. Felt the heat even more when she pressed her thighs together trapping my hand.

The light flickered and came fully back on. There was life in the old lift yet.

‘Don’t stop. Play with me while I rub some ice over my tits.’

She undid her blouse and pushed her bra down and rubbed an ice cube slowly around and over her nipples. I sucked on those nipples and savoured their iciness.

‘Rub my clit. Firmly. That’s it. Keep going.’

I didn’t want to fail her but it had been so long and I had other things on my mind. Thankfully, somehow, I managed it and when she came it was beautiful.

‘Oh Terry. You’re crying now.’

I smiled gamely and then suddenly felt drained of all my energy. My pulse quickened and I could hardly breathe. Harriet loosened my collar and tie and mopped my brow with water from the wine cooler. It helped and without realising it I fell asleep.

My wife was shouting at me. Vile unfounded accusations from her gaudy lips. She started to shake me violently and then I woke and it was Harriet’s hand on my shoulder.

‘Good news Terry. I got a message. We’ll be out soon.’

‘Never heard a thing.’

‘You were asleep.’

The lift came to life and started to move. As we stood up I saw that my bag was open. Our eyes met.

‘I’ve seen inside.’ she whispered.

‘I’m glad.’

‘You have to let it go Terry. Put all that hurt behind you.

‘Whatever bad things you had planned for tonight. Forget them.

She left you. Not your fault.

Understand?

It’s your life.

So start living it.

Terry?’


11) Up Where He Belonged

“You’re hot.”

He just looked me in the eye and said it. Don’t get me wrong, compliments from random hunks can be welcome in the right circumstances. If I’d got to the party, met him and he’d said that, we might have ended up under the coats. But we’d been trapped in a lift for two hours and hardly spoken: just polite introductions, a few games of I Spy until we ran out of things to see, then proper British silence. Now, out of nowhere, he was chatting me up. Don’t ever hit on a girl when she can’t leave, kiddo.

I would have given him my best ‘die in a fire’ look, all squint and snarl, but I still hoped we’d get to that party. Those coats might have needed us. So I wasn’t exactly going to flirt but I didn’t want to crush him either. I raised one perfect, Brooke Shields eyebrow and said, “Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself, but this isn’t the time or the place so don’t get any ideas.”

“No, sweetheart, you’re hot,” he said, pointing at my brow. “You’re sweating.”

Like that was my fault. It was December so the whole building had their heating on and I was sitting in a tin box, three feet from a guy who could’ve picked me up with one hand. I’d have let him, too, if we’d ever got to the party.

I shrugged. “There’s not much I can do about it but thanks for noticing, you’re an officer and a gentleman.”

I don’t think he picked up my sarcasm because he didn’t get any more polite, he just smiled and said, “You should take your blouse off, it’ll stain,” and his smile became a grin when I squeaked, “I’m not taking my top off!”

“You might as well,” he said. “We could be here for hours. Sooner or later we’ll both have to pee. Let’s get the embarrassment out of the way before there’s a puddle in the corner. I’ve seen bras before, I think I can control myself.”

“You take yours off!” wasn’t the smartarse reply I’d been aiming for, because he did. He peeled off his t-shirt and sat there, a bronzed wall of muscle like a knock-off Rambo. Never mind one hand, he could have picked me up with two fingers. I squashed that thought straight away and stared at the wall, the ceiling, the floor; anywhere but him.

That grin was still in his voice when he asked, “Are you wanting to play I Spy again? You didn’t guess the last one so it’s still my turn. Something beginning with N.”

I shook my head, I wasn’t interested. He must have thought I’d given up because he gave me the answer: “Nipples.”

I put one arm across my chest. Just one. I was sitting, knees up, in a rah-rah skirt so my other hand was busy making sure he didn’t see anything else he shouldn’t.

He laughed at that. “I meant mine, sweetheart. Is that why you don’t want to take your top off? No need to blush, I’ve seen nipples before as well. My turn again, then. Something beginning with P.”

I had an answer that time. Smiling sweetly I said, “Prick.”

He might have been called that before because his grin didn’t even flicker. “Not yet. I spy panties.”

“Ha! You do not because I’m not—”

Yeah, I said it.

Now I really was hot. Not just blushing furiously, that grin had sparked a fire somewhere you don’t need to know about, kiddo, not for a long time. I was thinking about him and what we might get up to if we ever made it to the party. I hoped he was having similar thoughts but I was hardly going to check.

I checked. He was.

Of course, he saw me look and he couldn’t let it go. “There’s no point you spying anything, darling, it’s my turn again. Something beginning with K.”

I just stared, not playing.

“Give up?” he asked. “Kiss.”

I shook my head. “That’s not going to happen, not here. Maybe if we get to the party. Maybe.”

He made a show of checking his Rolex. “It’s two minutes to midnight. You’ve got to have a kiss at the bells, for luck. Let’s make ’84 a great year for both of us.”

“You really think I’m going to just come over there and kiss you?”

He flashed me that cocky grin again. “No, sweetheart. I think I’m going to grab your ankles, pull you over here and kiss you where you’re hottest.”

I flicked him the double-Vs which, given what that revealed, was sort of a mixed message. “What if I don’t want you to?”

He lost the grin, got serious. “Do you want me to?”

No one had ever asked me that before, kiddo. I said yes. Polite confidence goes a long way with teenage girls, you’ll learn that. Try not to take advantage.

Anyway, long story short, twenty minutes later firemen pulled us out and if they couldn’t tell what we’d done from my grin then the smell of bleach and the little puddle in the corner were a dead giveaway.

So that’s how I met your granddad and why your mum always had a condom in her bag. I’ve never told her the whole story so don’t you say anything, you little rascal, I swear she understands every one of your gurgles.

She didn’t turn out too bad, your mum. She’ll raise you right, you’ll carry your own condoms. So here’s a lesson I never needed. Eighteen years from now, if you’re stuck in a lift don’t just call 999 and play video games until you’re rescued. Take your nose out of your phone sometimes, talk to people. It could change your life.


12) No Regrets

“I’m sorry, Sir, it may be an hour at least before the elevator is moving again. If you could please be patient, we …”

“I’m out of patience. Surely there’s something you can do.”

“I assure you, everything is happening as fast as it can.”

“Fine. Thank you.”

David ended the call with the operator and stood there leaning into the elevator wall, red faced and exasperated. Kathryn eyed David from the opposite corner, fury boiling just beneath the surface. After an hour of reviewing the terms of their divorce with a fine toothed comb Kathryn was well stocked with rage. She even hated the tie he was wearing. Spiteful asshole, he probably wore it on purpose. Jenny probably loved that garish tie. Poor Jenny, if she only knew what a piece of work she was about to marry.

“Well, I guess we’re stuck.”

“An hour is nothing after being stuck with you for a decade, David.” Kathryn’s tone was icy and she smirked as he glared at her. She’d hit a nerve. He looked her up and down, resentful of how her blouse hung so perfectly across her breasts, infuriated that he’d noticed that she was wearing Cuban stockings, his favourite, and that the seams running up her calves and disappearing beneath her skirt had held his attention since she’d walked into the lawyer’s office earlier.

“Believe me, Kathryn, you’ve been just as insufferable.”

“Insufferable, maybe. But I was faithful.”

She watched as he exhaled slowly, fingertips at his greying temples. She quickly dashed all thoughts of how handsome he still was, how strong his hands were.

“Are you trying to incite my temper?”

“Is that a threat?”

“You’re being childish, Kathryn. Smug isn’t a good look on you.”

“Well, neither is that tie.”

David laughed and threw his hands up in the air, pacing with frustration. He started to speak and cut it short, his knuckles to his lips, an exaggerated show of self restraint.

“You know what your problem is, Kathryn?”

Kathryn sighed and rolled her eyes, stepping out of her heels and setting down her handbag.

“Please, David, illuminate me. What is my problem?”

David paused, momentarily transfixed by the red polish on her toes, showing through her stockings.

“You hold onto everything. Even though you hate my guts and are so delighted to be taking me to the cleaners with this divorce, you can’t quite let go of the part of you that still wants me. If I meant nothing to you, you wouldn’t be so filled with anger and resentment.”

“Is that what Dr. Jenny told you? God, it must be so convenient to fuck your therapist. Tell me David, do you still pay her for those precious 50 minutes a week?”

David stepped forward fast, suddenly too close and Kathryn braced herself, jaw set firmly. He towered over her, close enough that she could smell his aftershave. Defiant, her gaze never left his.

“You, Kathryn, are the worst kind of woman; a classic shrew. I frittered away my 30s on you. I can’t wait until the ink dries on our divorce papers and I am rid of you, once and for all.”

David stared at her; a long, solemn look, swallowing as if his anger was a large pill taken without water. “You found a thousand small ways to push me away, Kathryn.”

“It’s my fault then? Is that what I’m supposed to believe? And you think after all this that I still want you? If anything, David, you’re the one with regrets. Regrets that you can’t have all of this.”

Kathryn pressed herself into David’s chest, indicating clearly what he was missing. David swallowed hard again catching a glimpse down her blouse as she tossed her hair haughtily.

“Just admit it, even though you hate me, even though you may have a perky new blonde bouncing on your dick you would fuck me again in a heartbeat if you had the chance.”

David sneered. “Is that so?”

“I believe it is.”

Without looking away or hesitating, Kathryn pressed her palm against David’s crotch. She grinned at him as they both silently acknowledged that he was already hard.

“You fucking freak,” she laughed, her thumb stroking him through his pants. “You’re so turned on by fighting with me! Too bad we never put that to good use.”

“I’m not, I’m just worked up …”

“You sure are. Imagine if I were to fumble with your belt … or your zipper?” Kathryn bit her lip and blinked at him coyly, watching David’s resolve crumble.

“This is a terrible idea …” He closed his eyes as she undid his pants and reached in and took him in her hand.

“Should I stop?” Kathryn’s question was a damp, husky whisper against his neck, lips almost touching the vein that throbbed beneath his ear. He shook his head ‘no’ and leaned into her, every cell in his body confused, drunk on the heady cocktail of anger and arousal. She touched him expertly, and in moments he was thrusting his cock into her fist, his hands against the wall behind her. His cock swelled as she whispered the sort of filthy things he’d always wished she’d say when they were married. He fucked her hand with abandon, staring into her grey eyes and biting into his own lip, determined not to finish too soon. She cooed and whispered until his body tensed and he gnashed his teeth. Then, without warning, the elevator lurched to life and the spell was broken. Gasping, David stepped back and shoved his aching hard-on into his pants as Kathryn slipped on her shoes and picked up her handbag. Moments later the door opened before them and they stepped into the polished lobby.

“Kathryn?”

“Goodbye, David.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re just leaving?”

She didn’t turn, she didn’t wave. He watched her go, cold anger rushing through his veins again as Kathryn walked away from him for the last time, smiling to herself.


13) Seven Minutes

7pm
“Oh God, how can this be,” she muttered, watching the elevator stutter between levels 3 and 4 as her heels tapped on the metal floor. She checked her watch. She had exactly 30 minutes to get out of this elevator and deliver that file.

He watched her legs flex as the floor bounced. His eyes roamed the length of her strong thighs, filling out her straight black skirt and curving up into a juicy full jiggly booty…

He pulled his eyes away. Be good, man. Just… be good.

The old woman watched them both from her corner. Well, this was an interesting situation, wasn’t it.

7:02
The younger woman wiped the sweat off her neck. She checked her phone.

The man’s eyes drifted back to her. He saw her fingers glisten as she flicked the sweat from her skin. She had a tiny little waist for such a curvy girl. Her tits weren’t that big but he looked at her ass again. He could see the dimples where his fingers would dig in, the round flesh under his hands… that smacking sound of their thighs…

He took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling, pulling his blazer over his crotch. Dude. Get a grip.

The old woman gripped her cane. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she silenced it with one hand.

“Do either of you have phone service?” the old woman said. “I’m concerned that we’ll be trapped in here and no one knows this elevator isn’t working.”

The blond man and the young woman were startled by her voice.

“I don’t have any bars,” the young woman said. “If I did, I’d be telling my client how late I am!”

“Uh, I have… um, no,” the man said. “I never have service in this elevator. I’ve been trapped here before though. An interesting experience. We weren’t trapped for long. Not long enough actually”

The old woman nodded, watching them closely. “That sounds like a story but my nephew is going to worry if I’m not home in a minute. He always comes to visit me on Thursdays.”

7:04pm
The younger woman punched buttons in her phone and he saw a flash of her cleavage, round dark creamy breasts. His dick grew an extra inch and he breathed in and out of his nose. Calm down, man. This is not the time.

“You look a lot like my nephew,” the old woman said. “Those beautiful blue eyes and something about your smile. I do love a man with a nice smile. Do you play tennis? I had a lover who played tennis. He wore these tight white shorts and all the young ladies in town would come watch his games.”

The man blushed and the younger woman finally looked up from her phone to see this man with his tight t-shirt over a muscled chest. He looked like he hit the gym, a lot. At least the part she could see under his blazer. His hands were holding it closed though. She looked further down and saw what looked like a bulge, and then his hands smoothed the coat down. Yes, that was definitely a bulge. Was he…? Could he be thinking?

“My nephew and I always have tea on Thursdays,” the older woman said, watching the younger woman. “He’s such a good boy, getting a college degree, working two jobs and still makes time for his old auntie.”

The man pretended to listen to the older woman while the younger woman checked her watch.

7:06pm
“And then I told him, ‘She’s a beautiful girl but maybe she’s just a little too young for you?’ He said, ‘Auntie it’s a different world now!’ And I said ‘You think it’s a different world but I promise you that I’ve seen things you can’t imagine and done things you’ve never heard about. And then he said ‘Auntie, I’ll never be able to sleep if you keep talking like this’ and I said…”

The man gave up trying to follow the old woman’s story and sneaked another peek at the young woman’s ass. He could see the place in her waist where his hands would go and her back would arch. He could run his hands over her curves, hooking his fingers in the hem of her skirt, sliding his hands slowly up her legs… He wondered if she was wearing panties.

The young woman stared at her phone but wondered if he was looking at her ass. Did he like big asses? Some men didn’t but the ones that did, maybe he was one of those guys. She bent over and reached into her briefcase.

The old woman stopped talking. The man watched the young woman bend over and her gorgeous round ass filled his thoughts. He wanted to see her look over her shoulder with those big dark eyes and say “Please. Please. Please fuck me” as his fingers disappeared in and out of her deep pink split, stroking her and opening her so his dick could…

The young woman fell as the elevator plunged downward. The man fell towards her and trapped her against the wall. She reached her arms around him, holding his muscled body against her, feeling his hard dick against her stomach and hearing the shocked intake of his breath.

7:07pm
The elevator dinged as it settled on the lobby floor. He pushed away slowly as the door opened. She checked her watch, smiled and whispered in his ear “I saw the way you looked at me. You should call me later.” Then she whirled and ran out of the elevator, leaving her card in his hand. The man looked at the card, dazed, and then grinned at the old woman.

“For God’s sake, that took long enough,” the old woman said as she hooked her cane over her arm and walked out of the elevator.


14) Getting Off Here?

“What are you doing in LA?”

“Vacation,” I said. “You?”

“Job interview. Where are you from?”

“Cleveland. What about you? I detect a bit of an accent.”

“I’m from Southampton. England.”

At those short vowels, so creamysmooth I wanted to roll them around on my tongue, my mind went in a different direction. I was no longer bored by the small talk.

I pictured him stepping into my hot, steaming tub. Lounging against my wet skin. Facing the same direction, as we were now—though not on separate sides of a busted elevator—he would continue talking in that melodic accent as my mouth busied at his earlobe, his neck, the freckled shoulders that I only imagined he had, my tongue mimicking the rings I traced around the head of his—

“What have you got there?”

“What?”

He pointed at my crotch.

“Oh!” I’d forgotten I was still holding my book. Once I realized we’d be stuck for a while, I figured I’d read to pass the time. But I was too easily distracted by my fellow inmate.

He reached out and I laid the book in his hand, his bicep twitching against the taut cotton of his shirt sleeve. He’d long ago removed his suit coat, loosened his tie. I was dying to take off my pantyhose. I imagined the air hitting my thighs, my exposed flesh, and as I readjusted the lining of my skirt I’d dance my fingers over my clit while he read, especially the next part where—oh fuck.

“So she’s going to bang him with her clitoris,” he said. “Well, that’s different, innit?”

How could I forget where I left off?

“It is, very different.”

“Interesting take on docking, I suppose.”

“Docking?”

“Well. Erm. I thought that was a common term.”

“Not to me it isn’t.” A smirk inched up the side of my face. “Tell me.”

“Well, when a man and a man love each other very much—they both have to be uncircumcised, you see…”

“Oo, don’t stop.”

“Then one fellow pulls his hood over his lover’s knob, and the other follows suit— it’s like a Chinese finger trap.”

“Oh! I never had an uncut man before,” I said.

He laughed. “Well, neither have I. I hear they’re missing out.”

A heavy clang sounded above us, and a jolt rocked the car.

“I think we dropped a few inches.”

My heart banged against my chest and I stared at the glowing numbers over the door. We were still hovering between the 25th and 26th floors. After a few minutes, we both exhaled.

“Let’s try the front desk again, shall we?”

I nodded. A ringlet of damp hair fell against my forehead and I realized how much I was sweating.

“‘Ello! Thank God we finally reached someone! We’re stuck in an elevator, north side…”

I figured he wouldn’t notice me taking off my pantyhose if he was in the middle of a conversation. I kept my eyes on the reflective wainscoting.

“Yes, please hurry. The car seems unstable.”

But as the roll of nylon reached by shins, I saw his head twitch in my direction.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, well. We’re looking forward to your assistance,” he said, ending the call.

“Sorry,” I said, stuffing the nylons into my purse.

“It is…um…a tad warm in here.”

“There’s no movement.”

The elevator jerked again, and he threw a hand on his duffel to steady himself. “Shit.”

He tore open the bag and brought out a long cylindrical package wrapped in paper. He unrolled it and sighed in relief.

“What have you got there?” I teased.

He held up a wood piece with a bulbous, glass tip and a dark shaft, a small hole at the opposite end. “It’s a teleidoscope. It’s like a kaleidoscope but you get patterns from the outside world instead of the one built inside.”

“I never saw one of those!”

“Come over here, take a look.”

He opened his arm, waving me in. I pressed myself to his side and he held the small hole up to my eye, angling the bulb to the tin scrollwork in the ceiling tiles.

His mouth inches from my ear, he spoke in a throaty whisper. “Have you got a good view?”

The world fractured into little bits of color and light. I felt his lips graze my temple.

“Amazing.”

“You can adjust it, if you like. Just roll the knob in your fingers until everything is right where you want it.” His hand slid down to wrap around my hip. A perfect fit.

I reached up with my left hand, hovering over his lap with my right, in search of his hand. “Show me.” I missed his hand by—if my calculations were correct—six inches.

He slid a finger under my skirt and traced upwards, pulling up the fabric. I leaned against his chest and he nestled the teleidoscope into his duffel. His free hand unbuttoned my shirt, his lips covering every inch of exposed skin. I climbed into his lap, unzipping his fly.

Commando. Nice.

I nuzzled his cock with my pussy and he groaned, adjusting his hips until he sank deep into me. In the reflection I could watch my own ass as I rode him, slowly. As we heard voices above us, I ground into him harder, faster, bouncing as he flicked at my nipples with his tongue.

Footsteps stomped along the roof. A crowbar picked at the trapdoor.

I came. He didn’t.

A metallic scrape, and I was off him, pulling my shirt over my shoulders. He frantically stuffed his rock-hard cock back into his pants, drawing his legs up as though attempting to stand.

“Hello down there!” A chubby, red-faced man shouted down at us. “We’ll get you out in a jiffy!”

Within minutes, we stood in the hallway.

He kissed my cheek. “Well…I’m off that way.”

“Oh no you don’t,” I said, snatching his hand. “I’m this way. I need to finish what I started.”


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