Lucky Gets Lucky Ch. 1

This work is not intended to offend anyone. The author (me) holds nothing but the highest regard for all parties mentioned in the story/stories. It is a work of fiction, and should be treated as such. This work should not be viewed by anyone under the age of 18 (or older, depending on the legal age of the location in which this story is read.) I hold no legal responsibility, yadda, yadda, yadda, you all know the routine. Just covering my ass.

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My vacation began innocently enough, as most do.

It was spring break. Me and "the guys" were doing the road trip thing, bombing around in Ray's beat-up old wagon. Nothing but a couple of guys having fun (in the non-homosexual kind of way, of course).

Our tour eventually brought us to Hollywood, CA, where our hopes of hobnobbing with the celebs came to a disappointing halt. We must have toured the streets for ages, but we didn't see anyone worth noting. Hell, at that point, we would have settled for a few has-been actors or one-shot-wonder musicians to laugh at.

Well, making a long story short, we became somewhat disenchanted by the no-shows, and we finally parked the wagon and packed ourselves into a hotel. Nothing big or fancy, just somewhere to kick up our feet. I made sure I had my own room. I wouldn't have minded splitting a room with one of the others (probably would have been a little cheaper), but I felt like watching a porno flick at some point, and it's hard to get hard when... well, I'll just say this: my friends and I weren't THAT close.

Exhausted by the trip, everyone packed it in early. Except me, of course, because I was still wired from the cappuccino we had downed at one of the nearby cafe's. I tried to get some shut-eye, I honestly tried, but after an hour of tossing and turning, I decided there was no way I was doing any sleeping.

I knew the hotel had a bar. I'm not much of a drinker, but I thought there might be some chicks around to chat with. Who knows, I might be getting back to bed sooner than I thought! (Heh, heh, heh.) I jumped into my day clothes, locked my door on the way out and hit the button for the elevator.

*Bing!*

The doors swished open.

I expected the place to be deserted, being just after midnight... But when the door opened, there she was, as big as life. Christina Ricci. Christina honest-to-goodness-slap-me-in-the-face-if-I-be-lying-for-the-luva-god Ricci. You know, Casper, Sleepy Hollow, Opposite of Sex, Ice Storm, etc, etc, and THERE SHE WAS! She was dressed... well, I wouldn't say provocatively.. she was clad in a white t-shirt (that seemed almost 2 sizes too small... gulp!) and a pair of jeans. She obviously wasn't going anywhere fancy... probably down to get some ice.

I was flabbergasted. I mean, how often does something like this happen??

Several thoughts raced through my mind. First, I pushed myself forward both mentally and physically, practically leaping into the elevator. I calmed myself thoroughly, trying to remind myself that if I started gushing all over her, she wouldn't give me the time of day. I had to play it cool. I had to pretend she wasn't even there. I had to keep myself from staring at her breasts, oh MY GOD HER BREASTS!!! Stop that!! Stay cool, take it easy. Deep breasts - breaths! I mean breaths.

22nd floor... 21st...

Okay, just calm down. Everything's fine.

19th floor... 18th... 17th... 16th...

I was staring at the floor, watching my feet in a sort of childish way. Don't do that! I scolded myself. Not smart!! Look at her! She knows who she is, and she knows I know who she is! Make eye contact, small talk, anything!

I looked up at her and smiled. She did that same.

Okay, I thought. Good start.

I nodded, and gave my standard greeting. "Hey," I said calmly.

"Hey," she said back.

Right on! Okay, it's all good..

14th... 12th.... 11th....

I saw my opening.

"14th to 12th," I said aloud. "Superstitious nonsense. I mean, who would leave out a whole floor just because of a superstition dating back to the days of 'witches and warlocks'?"

"What do you mean?" she said, looking at me, then looking upward at the elevator floor lights.

10th... 9th... 8th....

My journey downward was almost over. The elevator would stop, and we'd go our separate ways. I had to keep her interested.

"Well, the whole '13' thing. You know, devil's dozen, 13 witches in a coven, Friday the 13th... And now this."

She smiled. "It is pretty silly, I guess," she agreed.

"Of course it's silly! I mean, why 13? Where did that whole thing start? Was there some big catastrophic event with ties to the number 13, or did everyone just wake up one day, hundreds of years ago, and say, 'Okay, from now on, everybody, the number 13 is unlucky. WE know that it isn't, but boy, will it sure freak out the grandkids!!'"

Christina laughed. JACKPOT!

4th... 3rd...

A sudden shake in the elevator cut Christina's laugh short. The shake became a violent tremor, and we were thrown to the floor. The lights dimmed for a moment, then sputtered back to life. We slowly rose to our feet, realising the elevator had come to a stop. From the look of things, it didn't seem like it was going anywhere anytime soon.

First things first. "Are you okay?" I asked. I didn't even realise I had said it, it just came out. It's the gentleman in me, I'm sure. I extended my arm to help her rise.

"I think so," she said, taking my hand. "What happened?"

"I dunno." I hit a few buttons, nothing. I tried to push the doors open. Despite my abundance of upper body strength, nothing. "I think we're stuck," I said helpfully.

"Gee, what could have given you THAT idea??"

I chose to ignore the snide remark. I had spotted something interesting anyway.

"There's an intercom here," I said. "I think we can call for help. Gimmie a sec..." After a moment or two of fiddling, I had it. "Hello??" I called into the device.

"Hello?" came the response.

"Hey, we're stuck in here!!"

"Where?"

I shook my head in disgust. "Where do you think??? The elevator!!!"

"Okay, where are you? What floor?"

"Uh... between 3rd and 4th, I think." The irony suddenly hit me. 3rd floor. Here I was, going on about superstitious nonsense, and my oldest superstition - that the number 3 was lucky - had brought me the greatest piece of luck I could ever hope for. I was trapped. In an elevator. With Christina Ricci. Whoa.

"Okay, we'll be there soon. Don't shake the elevator too much, and don't panic. Shouldn't take more than an hour or two to fix."

I choked. "Um," I said, my voice cracking. "No hurry."

Luckily, I don't think Miss Ricci heard the last part. She was busy examining the walls of the elevator, trying to find a foothold to get her to the ceiling. There was an emergency hatch there, and I think she was trying to reach it.

"What did they say?" she asked.

"An hour, maybe two. We're stuck."

"Tell me something I don't know," she snapped. "Lift me up there."

I cupped my hands together and braced myself against the back of the elevator. She kicked her shoes off, and I hoisted her up, and she poked and prodded the hatch for a while. She let out an exasperated sigh, and her hands dropped to her side. "Well, we're not going anywhere. Let me down."

I lowered her as carefully as possible. She stood for a moment, examining our surroundings. Afterwards, she slumped to the ground, defeated. "Well, this is great. What do we do now?"

I could think of a few things. Instead, I offered an idea. "We could play a game."

"What would we play?"

"I dunno. Hadn't thought that far ahead."

I slumped to the ground beside her. We sat for a moment, in silence. I tried to appear thoughtful, as if I were thinking of a game we could play. In actuality, I was fantasizing about Christina. Damn, she was hot. She had a dynamite body! I figured she was about 5'4'', give or take... A little shorter than I thought. I couldn't even guess at her measurements. She had the sweetest smile, the deepest, greenest eyes (were they green? Maybe a little brown, too), and her lips....

"Christina." She broke the silence.

"I'm sorry?"

"My name - it's Christina."

"Oh. Yeah, I know." My voice nearly cracked again. "I recognized you when I stepped in the elevator."

She smiled. "I know. You had kinda a goofy smile on your face. I was just looking for a more subtle way of making introductions than 'Hey, what's your name?'"

"Oh."

I was silent for a moment before I clued in. "Oh! Oh, sorry. Uh, Lucky. Lucky Fate."

"That's an interesting name. Nice to meet you, Lucky." She extended a hand, and I took it.

I smiled. I felt kinda goofy. I didn't know what to say. I mean, it's a lot to take in: Trapped in an elevator with the delightful Miss Ricci, in the middle of the night, and here she was, trying to make small talk. What do you say in a situation like that?

I didn't have to think about it for long. We were startled when the elevator began to shake again. We didn't move far. It felt like we had dropped about a foot or two, tops. The whole thing shook violently, and the lights flickered again. When they came back up, Christina had her arms around me. To my surprise, my arms were around her, as well.

Both our faces were beet red. We quickly withdrew, regaining our composure.

I cleared my throat. "Sorry," I mumbled.

I had begun to regain my composure. My usual confident self was re-asserting itself again, and I struck up a conversation.

"So what are you doing here, anyway? This certainly isn't the greatest hotel in the world, I wouldn't have figured you'd stay in a place like this."

Christina almost laughed. "That's exactly why I'm staying in a place like this. No one would ever bother to look for me here. They all figure I'm off in LA somewhere."

"You get hounded by the photographers a lot?"

She shrugged. "That's part of it."

Christina now had a solemn look on her face. She had the most amazing face... When she smiled, she lit up the room. But her eyes were so sad... Her hair was once again a deep black, long and down to her shoulders. Just the way I like it, I thought. She had experimented with odd styles and colours in the past (say what you will, but she doesn't look half as good with blonde hair), but this look was much better for her. She brushed her hair away from her face.

Her solemn look remained. I must have hit something, I thought. Should I press the issue?

"Is something wrong?" I asked, in a sympathetic (perhaps in a little too pathetic) tone.

"It's... just..." She sighed. "Problems at home."

I nodded. "You and that, uh, Frauman guy not getting along?"

She gave me a curious look. "You know more about me than you're letting on, mister."

Whoops.

Okay, time to come clean. If this "relationship" (if you could call it that) was going to go anywhere, I had to be honest.

"I got a little confession to make," I started. Christina eyed me thoughtfully, her eyebrow raised in interest.

"I'm a fan. A rather big one, I might add. I've been following you - and your career - for years."

"You've been following me?"

I jumped. "No! No, not like that! I'm not a psycho or anything, believe me."

She smiled. "Exactly how much do you know about me?"

I took a deep breath. The whole thing came out quickly, as if I had been put on fast-forward. "Born in Santa Monica California, you were raised by your two parents until they divorced when you were 13, Your father is a lawyer, your mother is in real estate. Your first movie appearance was in Mermaids when you were six. You have 3 siblings, and you were born February 12, 1980, making you approximately six months older than I am."

I paused. I waited, quite impatiently, for a reaction. I prayed I hadn't scared her off. I was beginning to think I should have kept my big mouth shut. The last thing I needed just then was for her to start thinking I was one of those crazed fans, some obsessed screwball who had nothing better to do than to fantasize about her. If she started freaking out there and then, right in the elevator, I would have hoped for it to crash.

She laughed.

I exhaled, realising I had been holding my breath. This was a good sign.

"So, you're not upset?" I asked cautiously.

"Well, I'm a little surprised," she said. "But, the way I see it, you managed to keep yourself pretty composed the whole - " She looked at her watch. " - Fifteen minutes we've been in here. Until now, anyway. If you were some crazed fan, I probably would have gotten out long before the elevator got stuck."

Logical. I shifted myself over so I could sit closer to her.

That was a bad move, because the moment I lifted myself up, the elevator began to shake again. We plummeted another foot or so, then came to a dead halt. The dim lights flickered again and again, the power threatening to give out any second. The grinding and squeaking of the elevator was the only noise we heard, aside from our heavy breathing. We found ourselves in each other's arms again, but this time, we didn't let go.

"I have a confession to make too," she said. "Right now, I'm terrified."

An idea crossed my mind. A horrible, devious, wonderful, dirty idea. We were so close now, I didn't want to spoil things, but this idea was just aching to happen. But what if it didn't work? Well, I've been lucky so far... I mean, that's my name, Lucky. It was wrong, it was immoral, and it just felt...

After a moment's thought, I made a decision. I prayed that God would forgive me for what I was about to do.

"Y'know," I said, trying to sound both concerned and sincere, "This thing could drop any minute. We'd hit bottom pretty fast. We wouldn't stand a chance. And-"

"Stop that," she said. I panicked for a moment. It was a dumb idea anyway. I didn't really expect -

"You're scaring me," she finished.

It was working. My devious plot was actually working. I regained my composure, and continued.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just meant, that it's a long way down. Even at the 3rd floor, we're still talking a drop of about 30, maybe 40 feet. Further, if there's a basement."

"Lucky..." she said, looking somewhat shaken.

I felt like a heel. I felt like scum. I hated to do it. Yet, I pressed on.

"It'd be such a shame. Two people, in the prime of their lives, plummeting to their doom, in this seedy little hovel. Never again to see the light of a new day. Never again to feel the warmth of a hot cup of cocoa on a cool morning. Never again to feel the pleasure of being.. with... anyone." I finished rather clumsily, I know.

She held me even closer. I could feel her breath on my cheek, and her heart pounding wildly in her chest. All it took was a glance, a moment gazing into each others eyes, and... She jumped me. In moments, she was on top of me, hungrily devouring my lips, my tongue... She kissed me with such a passion and fervour that I was short of breath in mere seconds. She paused briefly, and looked deep into my eyes. Hers WERE green, I noted.

"I get the idea," she said nervously, her entire being suddenly alive with desire. "One last fuck before the lights go out permanently."

Momentarily shocked by her choice of words, I found myself once again with her tongue down my throat. It was magnificent, I thought. Wonderful. Her breath was sweet, slightly smoky (I knew she enjoyed cigarettes - her one flaw, if she were to have any), but thoroughly enjoyable. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer, our mouths exploring each other.

As the kiss continued, my hands found their way to her hair, feeling the luxuriousness of it, brushing it away from her sweet face. Eager to explore her body further, I upped the tempo.

My hands, now at her back, took a southern direction. Before either of us knew what was happening, my hands were firmly planted on her ass. So soft... so shapely...

I couldn't believe it. It was happening. I was going to make love to Christina Ricci. I really WAS lucky.

My momentary lapse in attention had cost me somewhat. Christina had once again taken control of the situation, her hands also beginning a downward descent. Her hands sensuously massaged my crotch, provoking an immediate response. The rub quickly became a stroke as my dick got hard. It became obvious where her attention lay.

Now don't get me wrong. I wanted the attention (and so did my dick), but I didn't want it to go like this. I conned her into this, and the least I could do was make sure she got the most out of it. She would come first. (Pardon the pun.) I moved my arms again, bringing my hands to rest on the slopes of her breasts. I began to caress her tits.

Chris's attention wavered now. Her movement around my crotch had all but ceased, and I had her full attention. Good. I must be doing something right. I used this moment to tug at her shirt. She understood, and pulled away from me. She raised her arms as I pulled her top off. Underneath, was everything I expected and more. A white cotton bra was all that lay between me and her magnificent breasts.

Okay. I knew my next move. The bra had to come off, but I couldn't make it obvious. I kissed her again, renewing our glorious lip-lock session. Our tongues intermingled, and her taste once again filled my mouth. I wrapped my arms around her, and grasped at the clasps on her bra. My mouth left hers, and I kissed her cheek, then her neck, then her shoulder. Not to sound too Hannibal here, but ALL of her tasted... great! She let out a soft sigh as my mouth explored her body.

I finally unhooked her bra, and it fell away. Before me was a young woman, in all her glory. My god. I must have stared forever at her magnificent tits. It was actually a few seconds. When I regained my senses, Christina was looking at me and smiling.

"Like what you see?", she said, giggling.

Flabbergasted, all I could manage was an enthusiastic "Mm-hmm!"

Her voice wavered, ever so slightly, as she whispered, "I want you, Lucky."

She undid the button on my pants and removed them quickly. She took my top off as well, leaving me in my briefs and socks. There was a hint of urgency as her mouth explored my body, as i had done hers those endless moments ago. In the midst of this, I tried to concentrate on rubbing my hands over her breasts, my fingers playfully toying with her nipples. Instead, I lay on the floor, almost completely oblivious to everything, with the exception of the stimulation provided by Christina's lips and tongue (and occasionally, teeth).

Downward her head ventured. By this time, I had given up all hope of stimulating her as well. I simply enjoyed the sensations. If she wanted to guide this little encounter, fine! Who was I to interrupt? She quickly passed my chest and stomach... downward... downward... I have a faint recollection of Christina removing my briefs with her teeth, quickly followed by ....

My eyes flew open. Too fast. Her long slender fingers were already encircling my cock, now at full attention. She had a gleam in her eye as she beheld my manhood (Geez, how corny does that sound? "Manhood." Sounds like something out of a crappy romance novel), and her lips descended toward her prize. Too fast. Her tongue ran along the length of my penis, her mouth finally settling on the tip. She sucked gingerly, scraping the underside with her teeth.

Ecstasy. But all I could think was, 'too fast.' I wanted her, more than anyone else had ever wanted ANYONE since the beginning of time, but not like this. He wanted to explore HER some more... I wanted to make her feel like a real woman... I could wait.

"Come here," I said. Finally rising from my stupor. She looked up at me, bringing me into full view of those eyes again. Those eyes...

She looked wounded, and innocent at the same time. Almost like she was a naughty dog caught doing something she shouldn't have. She licked the top of her lip provocatively, then bit the bottom. She was so damn sexy...