Going Down in the Elevator

Can true love happen in an elevator? No, but fucking can!

© Copyright 2023 by Millie Dynamite

This is a work of fiction and not intended to promote a lifestyle. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to any person, living or dead, is merely coincidental.

Going Down in an Elevator

1987 a Large American City

Being a work-acholic with little social life other than job-related functions, it wasn't unusual for me to go to the office on a Saturday night. When I entered the building and checked in at the security station, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck screamed danger.

The night shift weekend Security Guard wasn't to be found. Floored by the person's absence, as the guard was always at their station when I worked on a Friday, Saturday, or Sunday night, I walked about the halls on the first floor searching for her.

After fifteen minutes, I gave up my search, proceeded to the elevators, and inserted my keycard in the slot for the executive elevator.

The wait took forever. The level light indicator showed the unit on the 23rd floor, two floors below my firm's offices. Tapping my toe, impatient and a tad angry, I wondered if, for some reason, the guard was on that floor. What burned me about this? Someone used the one elevator my firm forbade others to use. If I found the upstairs intruder to be a security guard, I'd turn their ass in and have their job terminated. Imagine the gall!

The elevator, at last, moved first up four floors, which put the person's location at my firm's penthouse suite of offices. The one place, this night, no one other than I should be. After a few minutes, with me pushing the call button and shoving my key in and out, the car started down. At this point, I'm mad as hell. Getting the shock of my life when the doors opened.

A young black woman, taller than me, glowered with angry, hate-filled eyes in my direction. The woman dressed in all black, t-shirt, leather jacket, and stretch pants, holding a bag, which she dropped. In a flash, this woman jumped at me.

I turned and ran. Quick as a fox, the woman grabbed my ponytail and yanked me back into the car. Throwing me against the back wall, she laughed as the wind escaped my lungs and slithered down the wall. The sick wheezing, the fear of never getting air again, and this angry black person.

"Where you think you going, bitch?"

Towering over me, she dared me to get up. Her fist clenched, those dagger-throwing eyes glared. Thinking she might hurt me, I stayed on the floor, trying to not stare into her eyes. As my lungs returned to normal, I glanced up.

"Don't be eyeballing me, bitch. Yeah, you keep your eyes on that motherfucking floor, you half an albino barbie doll. Is your hair your natural color?"

Bobbing my head, I turned my back to the wall, sitting with my legs straight out. Somewhere above me, something caught my attention, like one drag of a knife down a steel rod. Glancing upward in her hand, a switchblade glinted in the overhead light.

"Don't move," she said.

She picked up my electronic key from the floor, came back inside, and hit the penthouse on the console. The car jumped, putting my tummy in my throat for a second as the elevator rushed upward. When 14 was changing to 15, she hit the emergency switch, and the car jolted to a rough stop. The indicator flickered 14, 15, 14, 15.

"On your feet, Barbie Doll," the woman ordered.

"My name," I stood as I talked. She cut me off.

"I don't give a rat's ass what your name is, bitch." Using the blade, the woman motioned me to come to her.

"You and me taking a ride."

My mind raced. Did she want money? Did she want my watch? My apartment, stuff? What the hell did she want? Don't know how I knew, but I felt safe for the moment, as she wouldn't kill me here. She'd want to get me to another place?

"Where are we going?"

"To Nirvana. Now, Barbie, strip out of your clothes." Using her knife, she punctuated her command. "Slip out our sexy silk blouse first, sweetheart. Let me see what hot bra you're wearing."

"Please," I begged. "I won't talk. You can take my purse. Just let me go." I held out my clutch for her. "I have over $200 in there."

The burglar smacked my hand, and my clutch flew away, hitting the mirrored wall.

"If you speak another word, without me telling you to, whore, I'm gonna cut cracker tongue out of your whore mouth and stuff it up your tiny white ass."

Without further resistance, I unbuttoned my blouse, pulled it free from my skirt, pulled it off, and let it fall to the floor.

"Pretty camisole, Barbie, and big, firm tits like every Barbie Doll ought to have. Yeah, cracker Barbie; they're large but not overly so. The perfect size to fondle, squeeze, and suck on. Natural or fake? That's me asking you a question so you can answer."

"Real." Refraining from commenting more.

"Off with the underbodice, give me a better view," the black woman said, still waving the knife for emphasis.

I wiggle out of my camisole.

"More, girl, take it all off."

Keeping myself under control, I stripped slowly because I thought that was what she wanted. My skirt, half-slip, and panties all fell on the floor.

"Garter-blet and stockings, nice. Keep the shoes and hose on. I'll say this, baby, got a fine bod, Miss Office Barbie. But, pale as Elmer's Gule, yeah, pasty even for a white bitch?"

"I burn in the sun."

"I bet you do, yes, Missy Cracker, I bet you do," she ran her hand over my breasts, squeezing them, pinching my nipples, and running her hand down to m hairless, smooth pussy. Jabbing two fingers into me, she maneuvered my pussy for a few seconds. Lifting her fingers to her nose, she sucked in my order.

"Nice smell. You're wet as fucked whore."

"I am not," I said.

She wiped her fingers dry on the space between my nose and lips.

"You little liar," she said. "Shake it, baby. Show me what you got. Go on, dance."

"No music."

The woman slapped my face so hard my head spun and my breasts shook. "Dance."

So, I shook my ass as I danced around the car, moving to the music playing in my head.

"Whew, Baby Cracker, you're hot. You ever shook your ass for a black woman before?"

I shook my head and kept dancing. Dropping the knife and clapping her hands, the black woman danced along with me. If the black woman hadn't been so dangerous, I might've enjoyed the situation.

"Done this for white bitches, then. You're a practiced exhibitionist or new to this. Which?"

"Never done this before."

"My, my, Barbie, you're a spicy thing, aren't you? Press your pouty pink lips to mine and kiss me." Picking up the blade, the black woman moved closer to me, waving her knife about. Then, putting to my cheek, she kissed me, a long, slow kiss with her tongue digging into my mouth. She fucked my mouth with her tongue.

"I'm going to have me some fun. Okay, Miss Office Barbie, you're almost mine," she said, pushing me back into the corner. "Show me why I shouldn't slice you up."

Running the blade over my gooseflesh skin, its cold metal threatening, teasing me. My heart pounded, my head filled with pressure, and I froze at her touch.

"Take that off me."

"What did you say to me, whore?" moving the blade to my throat, she pressed the tip into my flesh. "You getting uppity on me, bitch?"

Emotions overwhelmed me. The tears rolled from my eyes, my shoulders shuddered, and my belly knotted tight. An incompressible blather came from somewhere in the room. My mind didn't latch on to the fact the blathering was me trying to beg for my life. When, at last, I realized I made no sense, I shut my mouth, took a deep breath, and collected my thoughts.

"Oh, is the mean black woman frightening the poor, little mistreated white girl?" she said, making fun of me. "Bo who, bo who, she just cries and cries. Now, do you want me to slit that pretty throat?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I meant it, but ... what do you want? What should I say?"

All at once, the blade was in front of my right eye. With a flick of her thumb, it disappeared into the handle. Stepping back with an evil grimace, she put the closed knife into her coat pocket. Taking the coat off, she tossed it into the pile of my clothes. Pulling the t-shirt over her head, she threw it away and exposed her buoyant black tits to me.

In the next moment, she slinked out of the tight-fitting black yoga pants. Her snatch, like mine, was bare, some and dark as coal. The smug, superior expression on her face softened only a little, and she snapped her fingers, pointing to the elevator floor.

Sliding down the mirrored wall, crawling, hands and knees, to her feet. Untying her shoes, I pulled them off and threw them into the clothing pile.

"Clean them," she ordered.

I took a few moments, licking one foot, ankle, sucking her beautiful toes, and repeating the whole thing on the other foot. In some quirk of my nature, I enjoyed every moment. Slobbering over the flesh, then sucking my slaver from her flesh.

"Sit with your back in the corner, legs spread," she ordered.

I complied, watching as she lowered herself, and like a cat stalking its prey, approached me. The light flickered, her face turned animalist and hungry in the flickering, and I feared she'd eat me alive. Moving between my legs, her lips twisted, her long tongue snaked out, and she licked her full, ruby, red lips.

With little effort, she forced my legs further apart, pushed her face into my snatch, and dug her hot tongue deep into my honey hole. The strange, unfamiliar sensation erupted inside me. I giggled and squirmed about in a bogus attempt to escape her hold. This only increased her pleasure. Her hands clutched my tits, pulled and pinched them, mashed them, released my breasts, and snatched them again.

I gasped for air, and my body shook as her hands pinched my breasts and her tongue penetrated me. My mind swam with the delirious thrills threatening to overtake me.

With a useless exertion, I fought against being pulled into an abyss of pleasure. My eyes rolled back as I surrendered completely to the woman's every touch and wonder. Suddenly, I felt a wave of satisfaction like none before, and I screamed out in ecstasy as my release overcame me.

My hips bucked into her face, and I couldn't help but wonder if I was bi, possibly a lesbian. Was I so buried in the closet I hadn't known how much I wanted this? No want is the wrong word. The word need would be more accurate. Yes, I needed this, needed her, her domination to show me who I was.

Her tongue explored my hole, the lips, and my clit. Flicking here, lapping my juice there, consuming me, all the while, driving desire, a burning yearning for her. In one dreadful moment, she pulled away. The pleasure coursing through my veins was electric. It seemed to grow and expand with each thrust of her tongue. My need for her only intensified when she pulled away.

Leaning into me, the woman crawled up my belly. Her hands traced the curves of my body as she kissed and bite into my flesh, treating me like prey. Stripping away defenses, leaving me in all my vulnerable glory. Rising to her feet, straddling my body, the black woman grasped my head and pulled me into her crotch.

"Get to work, Miss Office Barbie."

"I don't know how," I said.

Forcing my nose into her thick lips, "Figure it out."

I burrowed closer, stuck my tongue out, and flicked over her clit a few times. Licking down her lips, I found her tunnel and thrust my tongue into her heavenly hole. A salty, fresh iron flavor flowed into my mouth. I dug deeper, sucking her nectar into me.

The fingers clutching my hair twisted, forcing me closer and deeper inside her.

My heart pounded wildly to keep up with her desire's accelerated tempo as she crouched against me and boldly forced me to explore every inch of flesh inside with my lips and tongue. With each new touch came an overwhelming sensation, which sent shivers through me, and she must've felt the same things.

The woman shuddered with pleasure and moaned out loud in response. Her fingers twisted through my hair as she gazed into my eyes. She willed me to lose myself entirely in the moment without fear or inhibition.

I held myself against her, sucked her clit into my mouth, and whirled my tongue, lapping at it. Murmurings, soft, low pleadings.

"Yes, more just like that. Yes, be good, Barbie, keep doing that to me."

She shuddered through her climax. It rolled over her in a prolonged, violent shaking. With her legs trembling, her pussy swelling, spitting little gushes of cum, wetting my chin, she held my head to her and moaned and groaned.

As her rapture peaked, her face flushed, her mouth opened wide, her eyes locked on me, and her neck tensed. Her pungent juices explode on my tongue. A remarkable sweat and sex redolence filled the air, and her pussy's sweetness combined to push me near the edge.

The noise of her moaning and groaning made my heart pound harder, and my pussy leaked juices on the car's floor.

The silky slick pussy tightened around my probing tongue. This dark beauty shuddered through one last massive wave of rapture. Out of breath, panting, she turned from me, retreating to the elevator's doors, and turning her back, she fell against them. Putting a hand on her head, she slid to the floor. While gasping for air, and asked me a question.

"Did you like that, baby?"

"Kanisha, was the knife necessary?"

"Got you going, Barbie, didn't it?"

"Yeah," I said, laughing. "I still have to finish my paperwork."

"Yeah, I have to get back on patrol," she said. "My uniforms in your office. I thought you'd never get here."

"I've got an idea for our next adventure," I said with a naughty expression.

"Do tell."

As we dressed, I outlined what I wanted. As I told Kanisha, I got wet and excited. Soon we were fucking like two lesbian rabbits again.