Ciao a tutti!
It's been a week since your last Midday-Mid-Week-Matinee; from the
What's Her Fantasy? archives, a
Sixty-Second Sexcapade which is sure to delight! And as always, I hope this gets you through the remainder of the week!
***WARNING***
The following story is not for the faint of heart and is NOT intended for those under the age of 18! Consider yourself forewarned!
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 23rd
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 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 12th
floor. People get off, but the man with
the briefcase doesn’t move, and I stand as still as I can, with Frank pressed hard
against me. Thirteenth
floor. I can feel his breath on my neck,
and I am aroused. I rub my bottom against him deliberately, to and fro, then apologize.
The elevator reaches the 16th
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 17th 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 18th 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...
Day 208: Wednesday June 20th 2012
Designer: Akademiks; Jenius Level Products
Name: Tanchers
Color: Black
Style: Platform Cage Slide
Heel: 4 inches (10.16 cm); Platform: 1 inch (2.54 cm)
Material: Kid Leather Upper; lining and outsole. Stud detail, cintrast mid-sole stitiching and woven raffia heel bed
Here are some more pictures from today's photo shoot...enjoy!
