Stuck in the Elevator

I must recall a particularly interesting sexual encounter I had while I was doing office temp work when I was nineteen--eighteen years ago. The gig was random secretarial work for a high-end magazine company that I'll leave unnamed. I was wearing a blue and white pinstripe blouse that hugged my figure well. I wore a tight white skirt that cut off an inch above my knee and wore translucent stockings that descended to fitting white pumps.

Being the only young black-haired, brown eyed Korean-American woman in the office, the heads in the cubicles turned as I walked by while delivering the mail. I remember that day being my best day and it wasn't even a special day. My skin was clear, I felt wonderful after a jog earlier that morning, and I had a date later that evening. Most of the guys liked to see me, but the senior editor of the magazine was bitter to everyone. I was no exception.

"Hey, you didn't take out my trash on Monday." He slid his desk chair back and motioned at the overflowing wire trash can under his desk. He had thick glasses that pinched the tip of his nose and graying black hair that matched the salt and pepper in his beard.

"Oh, sorry about that." I got on my knees and pulled out the trash can as he watched me. I leaned over and picked up the little pieces of paper that littered the tiled floor as I heard him breathing heavily over my shoulder. I blinked uncomfortably as I grabbed the last crumpled wad of copy paper that had rolled under the drawer.

"Don't forget again." He sucked down the last of his 32 oz. Burger King drink and shoved it in with the rest of the trash as I got up. "Oh yeah, Mr. Wallace said he could use some help mounting a portrait in his office. Said he would rather look at someone with a nice ass instead of 'my' fat ass."

I put the trash can in a vacant niche in the mail cart without acknowledging him as he cracked a Mountain Dew. I walked by Corey Atburn's cubicle. Corey turned around in his seat in mid phone-call and thumbed over his shoulder at the senior editor, shaking his head and pursing his lips as if to say, 'ignore that asshole'.

Finishing up the mail delivery and dumping the senior editor's trashcan, I dropped the emptied can in his cubicle on my way to the elevator to see Mr. Wallace. I waited for what felt like a long time, staring off into space as the elevator dinged through the floors to reach my current one on its ascension. I'd been thinking about the novel I wanted to write but didn't know how as the elevator arrived.

When it opened, I was shocked to see none other than the tanned figure of a familiar man. I couldn't place immediately where I'd seen him because I knew him from about a dozen different movies over the last ten years. We'll call him Lewis Core, and he was 36 at the time of our encounter.

Lewis was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts with sandals on his feet. He had just been on the set of what would later be one his most controversial movies. His bleached blond hair was done up not unlike his character's and it looked as though he had been on-set for recording just thirty minutes prior. His muscular arms were crossed and he wore a scowl as he leaned against the inner wall of the elevator.

He gave me a meek smile as I stepped on to go up to the seventy-first floor, which was where Mr. Wallace's office was. Just ten floors and it would all be over. The doors took forever to close before the elevator started into motion. I clasped my hands at my front and bit my lip not to speak. I closed my eyes as Lewis took a deep breath, gazing boredly at the ceiling of the elevator.

The elevator dinged. My fingers were shaking. I didn't know why. I thought it was a dream when the elevator shuddered to a screeching halt. I had to put my arms out to keep from falling over as Lewis stepped away from the wall. The dim emergency lights at two corners of the elevator were all that spared us from darkness. We steadied ourselves and our eyes met for the first time. His eyes were a piercing blue that you couldn't truly appreciate without seeing up close. Those eyes were the difference between a decent actor and a legend.

"You all right?" Lewis asked confidently in his signature drawl as I stepped back against the metal rail that rounded the inner wall of the cabin.

"Yeah, just.... What happened?" I asked.

"Sounds like the elevator stopped." Lewis sighed. The light indicating which floor we were on over the dual metal doors was out. He pressed the emergency button and spoke into the speaker in the metal wall. "Hello, hello, elevator's stuck somewhere in the sixties. Me and," he glanced over his shoulder at me, "one of your office girls are stuck in the elevator."

"Did they hear?" I asked.

"I don't know." He let go of the button and reclined against the wall. He looked down to his leather watch band and wiped his face. "This is really inconvenient."

"Yeah, I can imagine." I smiled and frowned again.

"So you work here?" He asked and I nodded, keeping my head down. "That means you know if this happens about how long it usually takes for someone to fix it?"

I thought for a second. "I heard one man was stuck over the weekend for forty-one hours."

"Hey, don't say shit like that. It's Friday. Someone'll be along... I hope." An awkward silence filled the cabin as I positioned myself opposite to him, crossing my arms under my small breasts that looked bigger propped up in my bra and pressed tight under my blouse. "So, you read this magazine and the dishonest crap they put out?" He waved a folded copy of the magazine he had stuffed in his pocket at me.

"No, I just intern here. I was hoping after I was done they might think about publishing one of my short stories." I said quietly. "Honestly, I love everything I've ever seen you in which isn't much, but--

"We were doing so well. Don't get all gushy fangirl on me now." Lewis smirked. "What's your name?"

"Cindy." I answered.

"Cindy, it's great to meet you. I'm Lewis." He pocketed the magazine. "Don't take this the wrong way but the sooner we part company the better. I was supposed to talk to your boss for five minutes and then be about my merry way."

I didn't say anything and we sat there for about ten minutes in silence. "What did they say?" I asked.

"What?" He looked at me like he didn't hear what I said.

"The magazine." I motioned at the folded copy in his pocket. "What did they say?"

"They got some facts rearranged on purpose and now I look like an asshole. It's bad enough that I think a retraction is in order."

"I'm sorry." I said. "I'd be mad too."

"Unless you wrote the thing, it's not your fault." He said. "You didn't, did you? You're not shitting me and you did write it and that's why you've been so quiet all this time--some kind of liar's guilt thing going on?"

"No, I swear." I said, meeting those amazing blue eyes once more. "I don't write magazine articles, just short stories and novels."

Lewis nodded, stroking the small blonde goatee on his chin. "Okay, just making sure." A minute passed between us. "So uh, what kind of novels you write?"

"Science fiction and fantasy." I said.

"Fantasy like, sexual fantasies?" He grinned.

"No, like witches and elves and magic." I said.

"Too bad." He scratched his forehead with his pinky. "You've got a pretty killer erotic scenario right here--trapped in close quarters with a Hollywood sellout."

"Yeah, too bad you're with Ashley Winterson." I said.

"What's that got to do with anything?" He wrinkled his brow at me. I didn't know how to answer so I remained silent. "What I meant was, you're a very attractive girl: a lot could happen and we have no idea how long we'll be here before someone fixes the elevator."

"You think I'm attractive?" I asked, staring back at him without faltering this time.

"I mean, I think you're the prettiest girl I've seen all morning. You might be the prettiest girl I'll see all day, maybe all week. I'm not sure, but I'll be thinking about you."

It was as though something inside me unhinged, a sort of release of morals. I took a step toward him, my heel clacking on the metal of the elevator floor as I dropped my arms from my stomach. "Bearing in mind that you might have ten minutes or ten hours in this erotic scenario you proposed... what did you think might take place?"

I heard him swallow hard as I took another step closer, putting us just one step apart. He pushed himself from the wall with his elbow and met me in the middle of the elevator. I felt his strong arms embrace my sides. "You're the writer. What kind of secret do you want to keep from the world after this moment. You can't tell anyone anything, you know?"

"I know. I didn't plan to." His lips met mine and I could smell the Columbian coffee he drank an hour earlier. I put one hand on his chest and one around his neck as he unbuttoned my pinstripe blouse. Our lips lapped and lashed. Lewis rounded my breast through my black lace bra with his palm, sending a flurry of desire through me.

He unzipped my skirt to let it slide down and crumple at my heels. I wore a matching black lace thong that hugged the curvature of my bottom. His hands dropped to my bare ass as he pulled me close, squeezing tightly before a hand snaked up the back of my open blouse to pluck open my bra. Tugging a strap from my shoulder, Lewis craned his neck to kiss my left breast. He furiously flecked and sucked my nipple as the bristle of his beard scratched my sensitive skin.

I lowered my hand to his belt buckle under his Hawaiian shirt and started to tug. His strong hand squeezed my ass again, his fingers sliding deep beneath my underwear to feel the wetness there. He slipped my nipple from between his lips. "Somebody's eager." He said, glancing at the elevator doors to make sure nothing had changed. I pulled his face back to mine to feel his soft lips. He was eighteen years older than me, but I didn't care. I finished unbuckling his belt. My thin fingers unbuttoned the button on his khaki shorts. As I unzipped his fly, I felt and saw the bulge above his left pocket.

Dropping to my knees, he gasped as I peeled down his underwear. "It was supposed to be your fantasy, not mine--" He choked, eyes widening as I cupped his balls and cock in my hands. It was a dream package at the time. He wasn't ridiculously huge but bigger than average: a perfect seven and a half inches of manliness. Pre-cum dripped down his shaft as I inspected it for rogue pubic hairs before I plucked his cock between two fingers and slid him between my lips into the warmth of my mouth.

Lewis Core gave an aroused grunt as I slipped him in and out, feeling him grow rock solid between my lips. His hand met the back of my head as he began to thrust. I gave a little sigh as I heard the sucking sound of his cock moving in and out of my mouth in the silence of the elevator. A false shot sprayed the roof of my mouth. He throbbed, wanting to finish. My eyes met his as my hands remained on his hips.

"Want me to cum?" He whispered as he moved my head back and forth. I pulled back with just the mushroom of his cock in my teeth as I rapidly tongued the oozing tip. He was sweet, which meant he had a good diet of fruits in the morning. I closed my eyes and shook my head as he relaxed against the wall of the elevator. I nibbled the side of his cock, running my lips up and down the sides before swallowing him once more. I opened my eyes to see the pineapple on his shirt as I continued sucking.

"Cindy." He pulled out, his dick bouncing from my lips, throbbing and flexing as though it was taking an immense effort to keep from ejaculating all over my face. I looked up at him beyond the silhouette of his quivering cock. He cupped my cheek in his hand. "You don't really want it to end with that do you?"

He helped me stand up and turned me around. His hands pawed my breasts before moving down my body to my panties. He propped my bottom against his left hip. I could feel him still throbbing under my ass as he groped in the waistband of my panties for my crotch. I reflexively lurched when his fingers found their mark.

"You're a dirty girl, aren't you?" He whispered.

I nodded. "So dirty for you." I replied.

"That pussy's nice and wet." He said. "You were probably wet for me well before we started making out, right? You can tell me."

I nodded without speaking as he continued massaging me with his smooth index finger. Had he done this with Ashley Winterson? How many women had this southern-born Oklahoma actor swooned and taken to bed? How many women's hearts had Lewis broken over the years without him even having met them? And yet, I was in his arms feeling his intention, knowing his lust and satisfying his most primal desires. I felt such a sense of rightness at being his in that moment.

He pushed me back as he plucked my thong lace panties between his two fingers and pulled them down. They dropped from my hips but caught in my cleft before he tugged them loose. Glistening white covered the cotton crotch of the panties as they rested atop my skirt. "Is it cool if I keep these as a memento?" He asked, picking up the panties after I'd stepped out of them.

"They were yours well before you asked." I whispered, gripping and tugging his cock as we kissed over my shoulder.

I spread my legs and put my hands on the metal wall as he pushed his dick between my thighs. There was a tightness, a little force, and then relief. I moaned out loud as Lewis Core's cock penetrated me fully. I pried myself to my toes as he moved in and out. My eyes met the dimly lit light as he fucked me silly. All my clothes littered the floor as Lewis pushed my upper body down so he could have the smoothest access.

No one to ever discover what had transpired, Lewis fucked me for the next forty-five minutes. I could only hope that no one in the offices on the floors that our elevator was stuck between could hear me moaning as I came all over his shaft repeatedly as he pumped back and forth, his cock making shucking noises on the in and out. My eyes widened as he quickened his pace, ready to fire and suffer the consequences of where later.

I tried to step forward and pull away, but that made him tug me tighter by my hips. He finally pulled out and reflexively continued stroking himself. I barely grabbed my shirt and bra--yanking them to my chest--as he came all over the floor of the elevator. With a final shot of his cum, he gave a satisfied thrust. "Mmm, fuck this place." He took a deep breath and shook his pants back up his hips as I began putting my bra back on. "Man, that was great. Thanks for the keepsake."

I watched Lewis Core then slip my still-wet black lace thong into his pocket. I'd barely gotten my blouse tucked into my skirt when the lights on the elevator came back on and we began moving again.

"Cindy Johnson, eh?" Lewis said. I smirked as he checked me out. My thighs were still wet with our decisive actions. "I foresee you'll be very successful in the near future."

"I sure hope so." I smiled. The elevator settled at the seventy-first floor.

"Hey," he said to me as the elevator doors opened to Mr. Wallace standing there looking concerned. "Thanks for keeping my head in the right place, Cindy. You're a dream come true, Mr. Wallace," he stepped out and slapped his copy of the magazine on Mr. Wallace's shoulder, "you should really give this girl a raise. She's the best thing that ever walked through this building."

My face went red as I followed them into Mr. Wallace's office while Lewis continued gloating about me. Six of my short stories were published before the year was over and I had the in I needed in the publishing industry to launch my career. I've told my best friends, my publisher, Stacy, my husband, but nobody believes me. I don't really care, but I've met Lewis Core since.

Did he remember me? You bet. With his gorgeous pregnant wife at his side, he got a signed copy of my second to last novel at my book signing in Los Angeles. We exchanged a particularly interesting psychic moment as I handed the book back to him. In that moment--in that smirk--I knew that he was remembering that hour in the elevator eighteen years ago.