The Joy of Going Down

Sadie was insatiable and was always conjuring up new sexual games for us to play.

I never knew what to expect, but each one filled me with exquisite pleasure. And with every experience we shared, we discovered more intimate details about one another.

But we were also night and day; Sadie was rarely satisfied with what she considered to be mundane or ordinary acts of lovemaking. To her, each new experience had to reveal some aspect of our true selves so that it drew us closer.

This aspect of her personality was one of the many reasons I felt captive inside her presence. She had about her a mentor-like quality, but that was mostly for outward appearances. Her vulnerability could be revealed, but almost only after she'd entrusted her feelings to someone well deserving of her complex emotional barriers.

I was one so lucky.

When she suggested an erotic encounter inside an elevator, I felt my pulse quicken. Sadie knew that, despite my willingness to explore my sexuality privately with her, I was painfully shy about others knowing about us. I was also terrified at the idea of being physically exposed in public. Knowing this about me only seemed to excite her more and she pressed on with a convincing case for why we should try it.

Pleasing her in ways no one else could was my one true desire.

Yet no matter how I protested, all she need do was touch me -- the slightest touch of her fingers against my skin -- while those penetrating, sinful eyes of hers took control, and I'd submit.

My only wish was for her to want me.

To own me.

Our power dynamic was a constant driving force in both of us.

Her plan was to wear short skirts with nothing underneath, get on the elevator at the top floor of her building, and discretely fondle one another until one of us surrendered to orgasm or the elevator reached the lobby: whichever came first.

The one rule was that no stranger inside the elevator could notice the sexual submission of whichever one of us surrendered.

The winner would of course retain bragging rights and have first say over the pick of the next new game; Sadie was a master at winning her own games.

After she'd spelled out in explicit detail how she envisioned the game taking place, despite all my reservations, I was immediately aroused.

We dashed into her mammoth closet and chose matching black slit skirts. Sadie picked a very low-cut top and thigh-high heeled boots, while I chose to play it more school-girl conservative, accenting mine with a tight cardigan and flats. Something about the soft feel of a tight sweater wrapped around me gave me an added level of courage.

It was Sadie who insisted I remove my bra. And it was she who stepped up behind me and unhooked it from my back as we stood watching ourselves in the full-length mirror inside her closet.

I watched my reflection, and hers hovering over me, as she ran her fingernails slowly down the straps, and carefully made a point to lightly brush the sides of my breasts with her hands as the thin material fell away from my chest.

I felt like the prize of her collection as she slowly took the sweater from my hands, rolled my arms up into the sleeves, and fastened the buttons -- all from her dominant position behind me.

The many ways in which she found to entice me before I even knew the latest game had begun were often so powerful that I would sometimes excuse myself, whenever possible, just to find the strength to continue.

Her control over me was the only drug I needed to survive the withdrawals I felt when she wasn't around, and I fought desperately to keep her from knowing that; but while we were together, I inhaled her with abandon.

We were two peas in a pod, and it was nearly impossible to keep from laughing as we bound out of the apartment, hand-in-hand, scampering upward toward the thirty-ninth floor.

Sadie's parents had gifted her with the loft space for her 21st birthday and we'd been making full use of the extravagant amenities for more than a year. In spite of her father's prominent public occupation, the apartment was often the epicenter for wild parties and sexual exploration, both hers and mine.

Boys made occasional overnight visits, often leaving with much more than they'd arrived with -- and always chasing what they could never take from her -- but it was Sadie and me who discovered a true connection after the thrill of the latest carnal adventure had long faded with the dawn of another morning.

There were times when she tested my loyalty -- when some shiny new toy would take hold of her curiosity -- but I knew, sometimes only through a passing glance, that I was the one who knew the path to her secret doors.

Before Sadie, I was lost in the sea of confusing sexuality. I'd let the occasional male charmer take advantage of me in naïve and unimaginative ways while I attempted to learn my inner cravings. But with each brief, and slightly aggressive, sexual encounter -- mostly ending with a cum-streaked stomach and frequent tinges of embarrassment (theirs and mine) -- I never got much pleasure from it.

By the time I finally met her, I was nearly convinced there was either something seriously wrong with me or that I was simply the worst lay on campus.

As my list of sexual partners increased, I often suspected that my reputation among the avarice males frequenting my room was improving merely out of convenience.

They wanted a quick, meaningless fuck and I was content to oblige.

The more I allowed myself to be used -- in the best possible sense, I imagine -- the more I fought with myself to understand my lack of enjoyment from those brief encounters.

Questions began to plague me mercilessly. Wasn't I in my sexual peak? Wasn't this the time to explore my body? I was so inexperienced that I hadn't even begun to realize the true nature of the possibilities open to me.

It felt that I was alone in this strange sexual predicament, because each time another boy left my room, he did so with an outward look of satisfaction.

I'd ask the occasional question; things like: 'Was it good for you', or, 'Did you enjoy that?' But the answers were always as brief as the encounter.

Feeling as though I needed a better sense of direction, I began to open myself up to outside influences; I even enrolled in a Sexual Awareness class.

But the road signs leading toward my enlightenment weren't yet visible; like many weary adventurers, I'd pointed my compass at the wrong landmarks.

If it hadn't been for an exceptionally bad attempt at anal sex -- one resulting in one young man's hasty exit from my darkened room, and my subsequent rummaging through his belongs to discover his name, address, and general whereabouts -- I'd never have found my way to Sadie at all.

Like many of my habitually disastrous sexual encounters with the male student population, I'd allowed myself -- once again -- to be swayed by the potential of another bright smile and another promising large penis.

We met on the way back from the library, and I'd barely gotten so much as a good look at either of his appealing attributes before he'd switched off the lights in my room, stripped off my panties, and feverishly attempted to mount me from behind. In many ways, I blamed myself; if I hadn't been so eager to explore my own physical urges, perhaps I would have been more discriminating on my journey toward self-understanding.

I'm not sure his penis was even tucked back into his shorts before he pulled up his trousers as he scrambled frantically out of the room following our dismal folly. He may also have been put off by my efforts to explain what he'd failed to do and how he might improve his technique.

He was long gone by the time I turned the lights on and discovered the extent of his speedy retreat.

Among the items crammed into his filthy backpack was a flyer for an extended mountain retreat sponsored by my very own academic department. As I saw it, I may have lost another round in my ongoing attempt to expand my sexual awareness, but I had uncovered a map leading me to my very own sexual guide.

The very next day -- completely unaware of the personal pilgrimage I was on -- I signed up to take the trip.

But once again, my attention was focused in the wrong direction. She wasn't even someone I noticed right away.

I caught glimpses of her mingling with the others and passed her off as just another student riding the train to the mountains, but the first group dinner together changed all that.

It was Sadie who made the first move.

She greeted me at the table, and once introduced I had my first opportunity to get close to her. After an inadvertent brush of the hand when we both reached for the same water glass, she began to unravel the beguiling layers of her decadent and intoxicating personality more and more.

In those first moments sitting next to her, listening to stories of her checkered past, I found myself inexplicably hanging on her every word. Despite the similarity in our ages, hers was a life of vivid experience; and the more she revealed, the more I found I was slowly growing addicted to the sound of her voice.

It was only then that I began to comprehend why I'd taken the trip.

And when she came onto me inside the sauna after a particularly long day on the slopes, and her hands slid under my towel and between my thighs -- as much as I wanted to run screaming, naked, from the heat -- I gave in to her touch as easily as one might give in to a secret temptation.

I wanted her to push past my resistance and open me up to her possibilities.

That first night together, while probing each other's warm bodies atop her welcoming bed, when she revealed her pouty breasts mere seconds before devouring me with her lips, I discovered physical sensations within myself no one had ever exposed me to.

As she guided me with her hands, legs, and mouth, I wasn't sure whether my body was betraying or rewarding me; but either way, when I came for the first time in my life -- when the rush of my own orgasm cascaded through my limbs as Sadie's palms pressed against my inner thighs, and her tongue probed deep inside my pussy -- all notions about self-doubt disappeared.

Sadie's influence set off a yearning I'd kept well hidden from the world and myself, and once opened to those feelings; I knew the physical possibilities were limitless.

...

Climbing up the stairs to the top floor five flights above, I made sure to lag behind slightly so I could watch as Sadie's pert, round ass under her short skirt flashed before me with each step she took. And once she caught on to my devious voyeuristic plan, she started intentionally flicking her hips side-to-side and pushing her butt back every time her heel touched down.

My eyes feasted on the supple curve of her cheeks as they blended down to her thighs, and then downward to her shaved pussy as her long legs stretched up onto each new step.

I could feel myself getting wet before we even reached the top.

Once inside the corridor on the 39th floor, Sadie stopped abruptly in front of the metallic doors, her face flush from the workout up the stairs, her breasts rising and falling inside her top as she worked to regain her breath and remind me of the ground rules.

My fingers itched with anticipation as I watched her cross her legs, lower her hand to her hip, and bend at the waist to find her strength.

Winded as I was, I looked straight down her shirt to the gap between her firm breasts; her nipples visible for a brief second before she straightened up again.

No touching, she insisted, until we were inside the elevator; and the first one to orgasm from the intense pleasure of the other's fingers lost the game.

My limbs were visibly shaking from exertion and nerves; it was all I could do not to forget about the game, drag her back to her loft, and bury myself inside her top before we'd even begun.

I knew she sensed my fear, and although she made no attempt to reach for my hand, the look I saw in her eyes reassured me that there was no holding back.

When the elevator doors finally opened we saw there was no one inside, so we jumped in, hit the lobby button, and positioned ourselves in the back corner. Sadie -- always in control -- had to press the button, which gave me an instant advantage; as she fell back toward me, she did so right onto my waiting hand.

I giggled somewhat because Sadie was already two inches taller than me, and with her platform heels, she was even more so; I felt I definitely had the upper hand as I could easily fondle her ass with no effort at all.

The energy between us inside the dimly lit elevator car seemed magnified by the numerous reflections of ourselves on every glass wall.

Sadie was all around me, and it was electric.

Before the elevator even started down, I'd gripped her firmly across her butt cheeks with my right hand and she let out a squeal.

But Sadie was infinitely clever and quite ready for me. As quickly as I'd clutched her tight, little ass, she'd reached over and inched her fingers up my thigh.

At the feel of my hand on her ass, and her fingers climbing across my thigh, I wasn't sure whether I was more excited by our mutual touch or more frightened that someone would catch us in the act.

Now, in the moment, both ideas excited me.

We hadn't made it two floors before the car stopped and the doors opened as an older couple stepped inside. We both beamed from the excitement, but neither of us moved a muscle -- Sadie's fingers barely an inch below my eager pussy.

The moment they turned to face the doors we were at it again: my fingers probing from behind and Sadie's reaching up for the outer edge of my moist lips.

I clutched the steel railing behind me with my free hand for assurance.

Floor by floor the elevator filled up with people, all facing away from us as we fingered each other's pussies; all while the intense pleasures raced through our bodies; all while we struggled to keep from bursting with joy.

The low music and quiet conversation amongst the passengers helped muffle the sounds of our joint, hushed pleasure.

With my grip on Sadie from behind, I held her firm ass in my palm and was able to massage her clit with my middle two fingers while rubbing and inserting my thumb into her tight, inviting asshole. Sadie knew she had a perfect behind and was more than willing to allow me to fondle it.

I could feel her rising interest each time she pushed back against my hand.

As I did, Sadie's middle two fingers had spread my moist lips and she was finger fucking me -- slowly at first -- then more intently as more people crowded the elevator.

As slyly as I could -- all to avoid notice, even from Sadie -- I began widening my stance to allow her a better reach between my legs. Having her inside me was the feeling of exquisite bliss; the trick was to prolong it as much as possible.

At times, my knees would go weak and I'd have to grip the railing even harder to gain my balance. Each time Sadie felt I was losing the fight against the feel of her hand, she'd increase the rhythm and intensity of her fingers inside me.

Little by little, I pushed my heels out even farther.

Staring into the backs of the ignorant heads in front of me, I wanted nothing more than to lift my skirt, spread my legs even more, and let her plunge vigorously into my pussy with her entire hand while I gave myself over to absolute forceful orgasm. But the crowd inside the car and the increasing public pressure of the situation kept pulling me back from the edge.

By the time we reached the tenth floor, the elevator was packed; Sadie and I had been forced more closely together in the back corner -- my fingers rubbing against her pussy from the back and hers inside mine from the front; my legs trembling from the rhythmic motion of her fingers between my thighs and the constant motion of the elevator.

It was delicious, agonizing, and overly frightening. Each time I felt myself on the verge of release, I'd tighten again at the fear and possible humiliation of being exposed by someone around us.

Now and again, ever testing the boundaries, Sadie would use her free hand and carefully run it up my sweater, cautious not to undo the loose buttons and reveal my bare chest just underneath.

She'd pinch my waist ever so softly, running her fingers up to the base of my breasts, and then let her fingernails drag up over my nipples. And when she slid her hand to the small of my back, I had to inch forward to stifle the sensation.

And then it happened.

The car stopped on the sixth floor and everyone shuffled back as one last group of people got on.

The man right in front of me stepped back slightly and his torso pushed directly against Sadie's hand; her fingers thrust deeper inside me, and I let out a helpless squeal.

Sensing the danger, Sadie reached up and abruptly covered my mouth with her other hand as the doors closed again. When they did, the man shuffled back a second time, and when he did, he pushed Sadie's hand again, this time directly onto my most vulnerable spot.

He didn't turn around, but it was too late.

I'd been on the brink of orgasm for several floors, and when the force of the man's body pressed against Sadie's fingers inside my soaked pussy, my legs buckled and I gave in.

The fingers of my left hand clenched the polished railing behind me as I tried to remain standing, and the fingers on my right hand -- still inside Sadie -- went limp against the folds of her wet pussy.

Feeling I was about to double over, Sadie grabbed my arm and held me upright against the back wall.

The man's body was still pressed back against Sadie's hand and I was quivering with uncontrollable delight. As my insides shook, I came all over Sadie's fingers.

I pushed my knees together to hold her inside me and pressed her hand down harder into my pussy.

My body -- my soul -- wanted the moment to last forever.

To stop myself from squealing a second time, I bit my own lip. As I did, the elevator came to rest at the lobby.

When the doors opened, everyone inside began spilling out. The man pressed up against us, entirely unaware of his participation in my physical release, stepped forward with the oblivious crowd.

Sadie and I were frozen in the corner.

The moment the elevator emptied, I unlocked my knees and crumpled with elation to the floor; I was completely unaware of anyone but myself.

Sadie hastily reached up and repeatedly punched the button for our floor until the doors sealed us back in.

Encased again, alone privately with Sadie, I let out a series of gasps and moans as I wriggled on the floor from orgasmic joy.

Sadie dropped down next to me as the elevator rushed back up.

"You're too easy," she said with her devilish grin, "I win again."

I looked over at her and let my head drop into her lap, her hands caressing the sides of my face; my body was still shivering from the tremors.

As the feel of the rising elevator pulsated through me, I curled up between Sadie's bare legs, her warm skin soft and welcoming against my own.

I closed my eyes against the feel of her fingers gently stroking my cheek and giggled to myself.

Eagerly losing at Sadie's games meant that I won at my own every time.