Lust in an Elevator

His erection withdrew and she died. She lost time and coherence, entered the feminine dimension reserved solely to women as she burst again, in consecutive waves of bliss.

He pulled, ever slower. She banged her palms on the panels in desperation, helpless, lacking the strength to withstand the insane pace and unable to survive the heightened moment. Her private inner self was frenzied chaos. Feminine frenzied chaos. Her mad contractions of his masculinity. Her feverish squeezes of his manhood. Her crazed massages of his male presence. All her signs as a maiden. Every fiber in her being, from curled fingertips to shaky toes, drumming heart to tightened sex, celebrated her feminine heritage.

That she was pure woman.

He gained size within her, his moment at hand. Her arms pushed against the wall before her with her remaining strength, a female roar in her veins, and drove him back where he belonged. She felt him explode as he tightly filled her again, the fiery tandem climax rushing through their bodies, as twinned broken screams of pleasure escaped from their lips. She floated, weightless, on a burning cloud of sweet incoherence lit by sunbeams of ecstasy.

She plummeted from the skies, rationality seeping back, as she felt that throbbing of his member; that last touch which capped the moment. Pant on her lips from her strained lungs, sting in her eyes from her sweat, shakes in her arms and legs from her exhaustion, her spirit soared as an orgasmic afterglow seeped into her every cell. The world was splendid, a haze, and wondrous.

He slipped away, escaped her. She turned her head over her shoulder in a half-protest, her whimpered groan of denial hanging from her lips, but the real world beckoned. It drew her back further, with hurried rearrangements, their exchanged fiery tempest only a burned memory now.

Ding. Her eyes snapped open. In front of her, the previously lit number 21 became dark. Twenty first floor, the rancher's association.

Breathless, she saw the door open. She pushed her glasses back up her nose, as her other hand lowered quivering fingers to her heart, felt her racing pulse through her blouse. She swallowed the excess moistness in her mouth, squeezed her thighs to the other excessive dampness between them. He stepped out, all powered grace in denim, and she fought against the ultimate spine-quake of a shiver. Lord have mercy.

He paused, turned to her, and flashed a high voltage smile that jolted her system by its brilliance. "Try to have a good day M'am." The doors closed before she could steady her voice, or even form a reply. Then a warm smug smile blanketed her lips. It already is, thanks to you cowboy.

The end

Author's note: I am unsure myself if this is her salacious fantasy or her shameless reality. *Slow Wink* It's to your preference then, isn't it? So please vote, but also post a comment below as to whether you felt / believed that this was her fantasy or if this truly happened to her.