Sixty-Second Sexcapade: Is There Room for One More?

Every morning I am late for work.  Even when I make it in the building on time, I still must wait for the elevator to take me to the 23^rd floor –the elevator ride is long enough, but waiting among the masses that are populated with people each trying to make it to their respective floor by 9 am, is what makes me late.  Yes, I could wake up an hour early –that would put my alarm time at four in the morning and journey into the city, but my bullshit job doesn’t pay me enough; so I am content with being 5 to 10 minutes late, rather than being an hour early.

For the last month or so, I’ve really been making an effort to be on time –well, not exactly on time for work per se, just early enough to catch the elevator, with the fine Samoan dude, Frank, that works in accounting.  He just transferred to our company’s corporate headquarters in Chicago from our branch office in Hawaii –he graduated from the University of Hawaii where he was a star football player.  And if that doesn’t make his sexy ass fine enough, he possesses a business degree with a concentration in finance; he minored in accounting.

Everyday, I just miss the elevator with Frank in it.  I imagine my morning starts off the same way:  I run through the lobby and push my way through the crowd only for the elevator doors to close just before I reach.  Then, perhaps the sensors pick up some sort of interference, and the doors open.  Frank has pushed the open door button to the outbursts of the other angry riders and he tells me, “Come on in…there is room for one more.”  I look at the other riders who are visibly upset that the car has been delayed, then back at Frank.  “Come on,” he says again, “I’ll make myself small.”  He turns from the space in front of me to face the interior of the elevator, and sure enough he has created a space, although quite small, yet large enough in which I can fit –and I squeeze in, in front of him –I too face the interior of the car.

Frank shifts slightly to accommodate me and I am cradled in his chest.  I shift to create some space between the man before me and his briefcase that continues to hit my knee.  I move back as far as I can onto Frank.  He whispers in my ear, “Every time you move like that, you’re make me hard.”  I apologize.  The elevator stops on the 12^th floor.  People get off, but the man with the briefcase doesn’t move, I stand, as still as I can, with Frank’s dick pressed hard against me.  Thirteenth floor;   I can feel his breath on my neck, and I am aroused.  I rub my ass against his dick deliberately, to and fro, then apologize.

The elevator reaches the 16^th floor and stops again. The man with the briefcase gets out, along with everyone except Frank and me.  He turns me around in the empty elevator and I face him.  He squats a little and reaches up the hem of my full-length skirt, and pulls down my panties.  I step out of them.  We’re on the 17^th floor.  Frank rubs his hands up the back of my thighs, as he makes his way to standing.  In one fell swoop, he lifts me up and holds me under my thighs.  He carries me to the corner of the elevator, pinning me against the walls; I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. We’re on the 18^th floor.

Using his chest to stabilize the two of us, he holds me with one arm, while the other unzips his pants.  I feel his dick enter me. Frank starts to fuck, and his heavy breathing on my neck gets me going. With every stroke, I take in his entire length.  It is so fucking good my toes curl.  I look up at the floor and we are on the 19^th.  He starts to fuck faster.  We reach the 20^th. The rocking motions hit my clit just right, and I cum, fast and hard –floor 21; so does he –floor 22.   By the time we have reached the 23^rd floor and the doors open, we are fully dressed and ready to walk out.  I exit first with Frank close behind.  I turn back to get one last look at him before I start the workday, and we exchange smiles of gratitude “I’ll hold the elevator for you tomorrow.”  I wink, because it is the first time since I was hired for the job, that I’ve made it to work on time.