Going Up

Saturday morning and here he was walking through the parking lot for work. He looked up and sighed. It was a beautiful day with just a few puffy clouds floating lazily across a bright blue sky. The temperature even at ten in the morning was warm enough that it promised to be a day for beaches, strolling down the lakeshore or sitting in a park watching the girls go by.

Jason Maxwell sighed once more and pushed on the glass doors to the main entrance.

The chilly air conditioned blast that hit him in the face told him he was right to wear his corduroy blazer over his short-sleeved shirt. He wondered to himself who the moron was that set the temperature in the building to twenty degrees Celsius; some bureaucratic pinhead no doubt who read somewhere that a person's optimum efficiency was obtained at twenty degrees Celsius.

What they failed to consider was all the sick days that people inevitably took because they caught summer colds from the building being too chilly.

Jason frowned and made his way to the bank of elevators in the center of the building. All the windows to the outside were out of sight from here so the lighting in this area was generated completely by the fluorescent banks embedded in the ceiling.

He pushed the button and listened idly to the pinging as each floor icon lit up with the elevator's passing. The doors slid open smoothly and he stepped through. He pushed the button for the eighth floor and leaned against the side panel of the car looking bored.

As the doors closed he heard a woman's voice shouting frantically.

"Hold the door!" she said excitedly.

Jason pushed the "Open Door" button and the doors stopped closing with about ten inches of space between them. They reversed direction ponderously and then slid to the open position and stopped.

"Oh thank you so much!" the woman said as she stepped gratefully through the doors.

"British accent!" was the first thought that raced through Jason's mind. He had a thing for British girls. They always sounded so prim and proper. Their accents sounded so much more alluring when they screamed during sex. He looked her over in what he thought was an unobtrusive manner.

She was dressed well in a dark blue suit jacket and form-fitted skirt of the same color. Her blouse just had to be silk judging by the soft sheen it gave off and the way it hung so well on her frame. It had white buttons shaped like pearls; they may have been real pearls, which were fastened all the way to her collar. Her hair was dark brown and was caught in a neat ponytail that fell to between her shoulder blades. She stood about five foot six inches in her heels and had a body that Jason would have liked to see in a bikini; or better yet naked.

"Enjoying the view are you?" she said coldly, meeting his eyes in the reflection from the highly polished stainless steel doors.

He frowned and looked away quickly.

"Which floor?" he said.

She gave him a look; a look that held a myriad of expressions in it, most of them not good as far as Jason's self worth was concerned. She reached up and pushed the button for the tenth floor and then turned toward the door, and consequently away from Jason.

It was then that Jason acknowledged to himself that one of the things about British girls he didn't like was their bitchiness.

He frowned an acidic frown and then realized as she met his eyes in the reflection in the stainless steel that she could see every nuance on his face. She blinked slowly, an expression that somehow made her look more haughty. She looked at him coldly and then turned slightly as if to put him completely out of her mind. Jason thought she did that rather well.

Brenda Caldwell was a ball-buster. She had been in business for fifteen of her thirty-eight years and she played the game. She read body language the way some people read a menu. She knew what people wanted even before they knew it themselves and she knew from the few glances she had spared for this man in the elevator that he wanted her.

He wasn't bad looking himself, but nothing was that simple as far as Brenda was concerned. She had to make the situation right for her before she would even entertain the idea of giving into this man's lusts. Firstly she had to set the ground rules.

Twice she had given him "the look"; the look that told him he was less than the dirt under her nine hundred dollar shoes. And now she had told him in no uncertain terms that looking was not allowed, at least not until she allowed it.

She smiled to herself at the thought of twisting this man to her will. She knew it would happen if she wanted it to, but then she looked at the icons over the elevator door and saw that their shared journey was about to end; they had just passed the fourth floor and he had already pushed the eighth floor button so, there would be no time for her to play the game properly with him.

She smiled again and discreetly checked out the man's form. He was good looking enough with reddish blond hair and a broad friendly face. He had wide shoulders and a big chest but he was no athlete. His belly had a slight paunch to it but she liked a man to have a little softness around the middle. It was indicative of them being soft enough in the head for her game to be played properly; properly meaning on her terms.

He looked a little older than her; another thing she liked in her men. She liked bending older men to her will. Younger men were too easy to manipulate. Older men were more set in their ways, more stubborn. The challenge of an older man was what made the game fun for her.

She looked down at his shoes and frowned. She shook her head in disgust and then looked up at the reflective door once more.

"What god-awful shoes!" she said to herself with disgust. "Where did he get those, at Wal-Mart?"

"Enjoying the view?" Jason asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," she said in clipped tones, studiously avoiding his eyes in the reflective door.

Jason chuckled and was about to step past her as he saw his floor approaching.

Suddenly the elevator lurched to a stop and the car went dark. The sounds one got used to in a large building; the whir of electrical engines, the low hum of the boiler room several floors below, the sound and feel of vented air being pushed into every crevice of the building. All of them came to an end and then there was just the sound of two people breathing. The dim red emergency light came on within seconds and Jason could see the woman's eyes wide with shock.

"What's happened?" Brenda said unsteadily.

Jason turned to her with a look of disbelief, a look which she couldn't make out in the dimness.

"Is it the power?" she went on, her voice becoming slightly more shrill.

"Yes it's the power," Jason said as if her were talking to a retarded child.

He reached past her shoulder for the electrical panel and Brenda gave a startled shout.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a near panic.

She waved her hand in the general direction of the touch she'd felt to bat his hand away and succeeded only in whacking her hand against the polished door.

"Damn!" she said, her voice becoming more unsteady with each passing minute.

"I'm just trying to see if pushing any of these buttons will have any effect," Jason said impatiently. "It probably won't help but it's worth a try."

"What do you mean it won't help?" she said in a high voice.

"I mean the power is out," he said with a snarl. "It's probably the whole building and it's more likely the whole neighborhood."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He popped it open and read the "no service" icon with dismay.

"Humph!" he snorted. "Try your cell phone. Mine has no service."

Brenda frantically reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. She was shaking when she held it to her ear. She stabbed at the buttons a few times and then held it out for Jason to see it.

"It doesn't work!" she squeaked.

Jason looked at the "no service" icon on her display and shrugged.

"Well," he said, "that's that!"

"What does that mean?" Brenda asked, gulping her panic down as best she could.

"It means we're stuck!" Jason said as he leaned against the panel of the car.

"Oh God!" she said in a tiny voice. "We're... stuck?"

"Yes we're stuck!" he said, suddenly becoming very annoyed with this proud British bitch he had the displeasure of sharing this elevator ride with. "We're stuck so you might as well get used to it and wait!"

"Wait for what?" she said in a tiny whisper.

Jason shook his head and decided he was tired of this conversation.

"Wait for what?" Brenda screamed suddenly.

"Jesus!" Jason shouted, pushing at his ear lobes several times to relieve the pain from her sudden screech. "Don't shout for God's sake! I'm only two feet away. I can hear you just fine."

"What are we waiting for?" Brenda said more quietly but with a shrillness in her voice that told of serious panic.

"We wait for the power to come back," he said slowly, "or until someone realizes we're here and calls the fire department to get us out."

"Oh God!" she said tearfully. "I can't do that! I can't wait! I have to get out of here!"

"I'm not thrilled to be here either Lady!" Jason said tartly. "But there's no way out of here until someone out there gets us out!"

"Oh God!" she whimpered. "There must be something... anything!"

"Not that I can think of," Jason said and then laid his head back against the wall. "I suggest you get comfortable because it might be a bit of a wait."

He heard her crumple to the floor. He knew she hadn't fainted because she was whimpering quietly. He sighed heavily and tried not to hear her.

Instead he tried to imagine her naked as he had begun to when she first stepped onto the elevator. He succeeded in bringing her image to his mind's eye but that was as far as he got. He couldn't concentrate well enough to imagine anything with her whimpering like that.

"What is the problem Lady?" he asked her impatiently.

"I'm claustrophobic!" she shouted. "I can't bear shut in places! I'm usually okay in elevators because I know I'll be out in a few moments. Here in the dark... I can't bear it!"

Jason rolled his eyes.

"What a drama queen!" he muttered.

"It's not bloody drama!" she screeched. "It's a condition! I suppose you'd blame a blind man for not watching where he's going!"

Jason frowned and profoundly wished he were someplace else. More to the point, he profoundly wished that she were someplace else.

"Maybe they could just rescue her and leave me in peace and quiet," he thought to himself.

Brenda began whimpering again and Jason groaned quietly.

"I'll thank you to keep your bloody opinions to yourself!" she spat.

"Sure," he said. "Just keep your whining to yourself and we've got a deal!"

****************************************************

An hour later Brenda was about to lose her mind. As with most irrational fears, there was no reasoning it away or fading of the fear with constant exposure. Sitting in the dimness, in this closed in place, her nerves were literally shot.

She had kept her whimpering to a minimum, but not because Jason told her to. She still had her pride and she was determined not to let this boorish man beside her have an edge over her.

As time passed however, it became clear that she was going to have to do something to take her mind off the fear.

Years before she and the man she called her boyfriend at that time had been trapped in a lift. He was very supportive and tried to talk her through it as the time passed but it was no use. Her panic had grown and grown until she thought she would burst.

After an hour and a half, he tried a different tactic. Instead of talking to her or soothing her, he had become amorous. She pushed him away several times as she thought it highly inappropriate for him to try having sex with her while she was in such a state. He persisted though and she began to realize that the more aroused she became from his advances, the less panicked she was from her claustrophobia.

In the end they had wild sex on the tiled floor of the elevator and only just managed to get themselves decent by the time the fire brigade showed up to rescue them. One of the firemen had winked at her as he noted her tousled hair and hastily donned clothing. She gave him a withering glance and walked out with her head high so as not to see the snickers on the remainder of the brigade watching her.

Now, here she was in a similar situation. She knew that if her boyfriend were here with her now, they would simply start having sex again and she would be fine; so long as the power failure didn't last longer than her boyfriend could. He was a resourceful man though, so she knew he would have found ways of keeping her occupied.

But she wasn't with her boyfriend; she was with a man she'd never met before. What was worse, she was with a man that she disliked. In the brief exchanges they'd had, she could tell that this man would never be one of her lovers. He was far too implacable for her liking.

Having had an opportunity to observe him, she knew that "the game" would never work on this man. He might want her and he might lust for her, but she would never take him because she could never bend him to her will.

"But you don't need to talk to him my Dear," her inner voice said.

"He's a boor!" she said disdainfully to her inner self.

"That may be," the voice said calmly, "but he does have a penis; and a willingness to use it I'm sure! You saw the look in his eyes before the power went."

She frowned and grunted in disgust. Jason glanced in her direction and shook his head.

"Great!" he said to himself. "Now she's going to lose her mind. Next thing you know she's going to start talking to herself."

"It does not get better in the short run my Dear!" Brenda's inner voice insisted.

"Oh do shut up!" she said, then cringed when she realized she'd said it out loud.

Jason looked up and fixed her with a cold glare.

"Lady," he said acidly, "for one thing, I didn't say a word. And if I did, I'd appreciate it if you could keep a civil tongue in your head. You may ask me to stop talking. You may even request that I be quiet. But you will not tell me to shut up! Do we understand each other?"

Brenda watched him fearfully, knowing that he was perfectly right. It didn't make it any easier for her to take though, coming as it was from a man she considered to be such a lout.

"I'm sorry," she said, summoning all of her effort to do so. "I was simply scared and I'm not really in my right mind right now."

"You can say that again," Jason muttered, although Brenda heard him perfectly well.

Brenda sniffed angrily but bit back her comment. She gritted her teeth and looked down between her knees which were drawn up to her chest.

"This is not helping!" her inner voice said.

"Shut up!" she replied, silently this time.

"This place is driving us crazy!" the voice insisted.

"Yes it is!" she thought quickly as her hands began to shake once more.

"So what's it going to be?" the voice asked. "Slow torture or perhaps we make a new friend?"

"He will never be my friend!" she thought testily.

"Maybe just his willy then," the voice teased. "We could just be friends with his John Thomas and leave the rest of him out of the picture."

"Shut up!" she said, looking around the elevator car fearfully.

"You could ask him," the voice reasoned.

"Shut up!" she thought again, feeling a sudden weight on her chest.

"It couldn't hurt," the voice went on as though it were ignoring her.

"Oh for God's sake!" Brenda exclaimed suddenly. "Let's just fuck and get it over with then!"

Jason looked up in alarm. The loudness of her shout startled him and then his eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open as he realized what she said.

"I beg your pardon?" he said.

"You heard me!" Brenda said, standing up from her prone position on the floor and pulling her suit jacket off.

She folded the jacket and laid it neatly on the floor in the corner and then began to unbutton the pearls on her silk blouse.

"Just fuck me please!" she said. "I can't bear this a single moment longer!"

She shrugged out of her blouse and folded it, then placed it on top of her jacket. She unzipped her skirt and shoved it down to her calves. Then she stepped out of it, folded it and placed it carefully on the pile.

Clad now only in a yellow matching silk panty and bra set, she straightened and stared at Jason. She seemed to notice for the first time that he was staring at her but had not yet removed a single item of clothing.

"Well?" she said expectantly. "What are you waiting for? It's what you've wanted this whole time isn't it? You've been staring at me since the moment I stepped on to this elevator!"

Jason blinked and succeeded in making the expression every bit as haughty as she had done not so long ago.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he said evenly. "You've been doing everything you can for the past hour to make me feel two inches tall. Well guess what Lady! I'm not two inches tall and I resent the hell out of the fact that you want me to think so.

"I don't know where you got this idea that we were going to have sex, but you did it all by yourself without asking me once what I thought about it! So if that really is your plan, perhaps you'd like to ask me what I'd like instead of telling me what you want!"

Jason turned back to stare at the floor.

Brenda looked down at him in surprise and shock. Never in her life had any man ever turned her down. Even those men she had only been teasing had salivated after her like hungry dogs after she laughed at them and walked away. Never in her experience had a man ignored her sexual needs; never before this.

Brenda then did something that neither of them expected she would do.

She fell to her knees, buried her face in her hands and began crying. Not crying; wailing!

For Brenda it was simply the last straw. Until now she had been able to hide her fears. Her self-control had been stretched to its limit before this. Now Jason's rejection had simply pushed her over the edge.

Jason looked at her and then put his own head in his hands.

"Oh God No!" he muttered to himself.

Brenda didn't hear him. By now she was consumed by her claustrophobia with her focus bent entirely on having sex with the only man available; Jason. With his rejection her last hope of being able to maintain her composure evaporated.

"Oh please!" she cried. "You must have sex with me! You simply must!"

Jason looked at her, his lip curling in disgust as she turned to him with tears streaming down her face. She reached for him pleadingly and sniffed heavily as her nose began to run with her distress.

"Please fuck me!" she wept. "I'll make it good, I promise! Just look at these!"

With that, she undid her bra and her generously sized breasts bobbled into view. She cupped them in both hands and held them up for his inspection.

"Please fuck me!" she went on as she cried. "I'm a good fuck, I promise!"

She crawled awkwardly toward him and reached for his belt buckle.

"I'll suck you off," she said quickly. "You can cum in my mouth if you like, just please fuck me."

Jason watched this performance with something between revulsion and intense arousal. Despite his dislike of the woman who had been so bitchy to him, he couldn't help but appreciate her naked tits. They were easily a C-cup topped by pretty pink nipples with small areolas.

She had been tugging at his belt and had cupped his cock and balls in an effort to get him interested and now he was interested. His cock was semi-hard and she had a firm grip on it through his pants. She kept trying to unzip him but couldn't quite get the catch to release.