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Subject: {Godiva} "Restricted Lift" (+MF nc humo) [1/1]
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WARNING AND LEGAL NOTICES:
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1] The following document contains both
graphic dramatic and / or humorous
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Restricted Lift
by
Godiva
Elevator number five, as everyone at Synthetic Systems
Inc. knew, was sacred to the executive staff. Mere,
secretaries--no euphemistic Personal Assistants, here--either
transported their commoner bodies on the ever-busy
elevators one through four, or accompanied mail clerk's
push carts and janitor' buckets in number six.
After three months, just barely past probation, Ella knew
this fact, but she was late returning from lunch. She would
never arrive on time by bucking the waves of employees
pouring out of the common carriers. Undoubtedly, her
supervisor, Ms. Fletcher, would make some pithy comment
and inscribe a mark on her employee record.
Elevator number five was slowly folding its doors on Ella's
crime when a hand snaked out to catch it. The door
chattered a moment in confusion, then slowly reopened.
To Ella's chagrin, several executives stepped in. Ella
actually knew the name of one of the executives--Mr.
Carruthers, head of personnel--the rest were no more than
recognizable faces from the company brochure, or figures
glimpsed briefly while entering a limousine. Ella decided
that her position couldn't be worse if Ms. Fletcher had
caught her.
"Will you be seeing the senator this weekend?" the one
executive asked another.
"Friday night," was the response. "If I get a chance, I'll
bring up your question about tariffs."
"Make your chance," the first commanded. As he spoke,
the commanding executive reached forward and gripped one
of Ella's breasts, drawing her back against him, he absently
mauled her bosom and creased her crisp white blouse.
"Oh!" Ella exclaimed, dropping her clutch purse. She
twisted out of the first executive's grasp, and bent to retrieve
her purse. A second executive yanked up the back of Ella's
skirt, exposing her pale blue panties beneath a mesh covering
of nylon pantihose.
With her skirt drawn upward, Ella lost her balance,
pitching head first into Mr. Carruthers groin. Ella felt the
personnel director's well manicured hands catch her by the
shoulders. Nimbly they opened her blouse, unsnapped her
bra, and began massaging Ella's heavy breasts, as she leaned,
awkwardly, face forward into his crotch.
At the same time, Ella's underwear had been swept down
her legs, to expose her nether region. With her face pressed
in Mr. Carruthers lap, Ella could not see which executive
was doing what to her. Two hands--she thought they were
one person's--rolled and parted the rounded cheeks of her
butt, pressing a finger tightly against her small pink bud,
until it slipped thought the clutching ring of muscles.
Only two other exploring hands, seemed to Ella, to be
matched. The one had drawn her skirt away from her
abdomen, and slid downward between her legs. There it
pushed upward against the forward prow of Ella's pelvic
bone, while its fingers curled around to agitate her clitoris.
The other hand--which perhaps it partnered--stroked along
Ella's inner thigh, keeping her knees spread.
Other hands were busy in singular pursuits. One held her
opposite thigh spread in a tight motionless grip. Another set
of fingers on an unknown hand entered from behind,
ploughing deeply along her labia, then steepening to enter
and churn her vagina.
Only Mr. Carruthers hands upon her breast were
completely known by Ella. Those hands pressed and pulled,
smoothed and tweaked, at her pendant breasts and tightening
nipples, while Ella gasped to draw breath through the crotch
of Mr. Carruthers expensive English wool suit pants.
Finally, Mr. Carruthers pressed Ella back by the shoulders,
allowing her to gasp urgently for breath, as he lowered his
zipper and presented his sturdy erection.
Trying to rear away from the gaging object pressed against
the back of her throat, Ella was flung forward when a sturdy
penis rammed deep into her vagina. With Carruthers hands
directing Ella by means of his grip on her swinging breasts,
and many hands assisting in her coupling from behind, Ella
rocked in the unsought thrall of her twofold penetration.
Shuddering beneath waves of orgasmic sensation, Ella
vaguely heard the executives continuing conversation.
Caught in a web of sensuality, Ella had sweet words like
'integrated tax displacement' and 'supply side financing' even
'corporate inductability downsizing' cooed into her ears.
As the elevator reached the ninety-eighth floor, the men
adjusted their clothing and stepped from the elevator.
Unsupported, Ella had nearly crumpled into a prone
position, when powerful hands lifted her high into the air. A
zipper rasped, and those hands lowered her onto a rapidly
deploying male member. A second zipper sounded, and a
large rigid penis broached Ella's twitching sphincter.
In the thrust and jostle of the long journey to the ground
floor, Ella could not understand what the men were
discussing. Sometimes, they seemed to be reviewing a sales
campaign, as they surged and withdrew in unison. At other
times, the topic appeared to be football, as they alternated,
sliding Ella off one erection onto it's opposite.
She became so euphoric, Ella failed to notice a third man
who had entered the lift at the sixty-fourth floor, until after
he grasped her breasts and pinched her nipples. Shocked,
Ella jerked and came noisily. The men repeated the
manoeuvre about every ten floors, always with the same
result.
The elevator was crowded on its next trip upward. Ella
never knew who was doing what with her, but she was
coming hard and often, now. Each new, dry hand grasping
her crotch as she was passed from one to another, thrilled
her.
Throughout the afternoon, the number five elevator
climbed and lowered busily in its shaft, as Ella's every orifice
was displayed, probed, and stimulated. Even black
unconsciousness was no protection, nor was Ella allowed to
remain long within its sanctuary, before a new response
ripped her from her hiding place.
At three-thirty the elevator slowed to an idle. Ella
gathered her clothes and dressed herself hastily. With as
much dignity as she could muster, Ella wended her way
from the number five elevator to Ms. Fletcher's office.
*** *** *** *** *** ***
Ms. Fletcher glanced up as her missing subordinate
collapsed onto the chair before her desk. Although Ella
Twintrees' gait suggested an afternoon of alcoholic revels,
her attire refuted that assumption. Ella's hair was tousled
and her features flushed. The buttons of her blouse were
ill-matched, with one of the blouse's shirttails flapping free
from the waistband of Ella's skirt, and a lone brassier strap
dangled from her untucked blouse. Ella's skirt was hitched
crookedly about her waist, and showed evidence of much
wrinkling.
From Ella's foot, as she wobbled on her low-heeled shoes,
Ms. Fletcher had seen a shrouding net of nylon pantihose
dragging behind, with pale blue panties visible within its
folds.
"Well," Ms. Fletcher began, clearing her throat. "I tell you
girls not to use the number five elevator. I tell you a
thousand times a day that the number five elevator is
reserved for the executive staff. I do everything I can to
make you girls stay out, but of course, what does an old
woman like me, know about anything?
"Now, you know that my warning was meant for your
own good," finished Ms. Fletcher. "So, what have you got
to say for yourself?"
"Ms. Fletcher," Ella Twintrees requested, her voice shaken
with the after effects of violent emotions and suppressed
ambition. "Would you please recommend me for a position
as the operator of elevator number five?"
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GA98-1-000-GX-000-0001-03 [restlift.txt]
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Copywrite: 1998
Author: Godiva
Contact: Godiva@prontomail.com
Organization: Godiva Academy
Contact: Godiva@starmail.com
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