From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: The Elevator (MF, no sex)
Date: 5 Nov 1996 23:17:15 GMT

			     The Elevator

	I'm in an office building. I call for and enter an elevator
going down (the elevator's going down - I'm not yet.) I'm the only one
in the elevator. I punch the button for the basement. On the next
floor, the elevator stops and picks up a number of people, including a
lady who stands right in front of me.

	Again, the elevator stops to pick up more people until it is
jammed full. The lady in front of me is now backed up tightly against
me, her ass gently swaying against my crotch. My dick begins to
harden.

	She feels my semi-hardness against her nicely rounded ass. She
turns her head, looks at me, smiles, then faces the door again. But I
begin to feel her hand rubbing against my thigh. At first, thinking
this is only the result of us being so tightly pressed together by the
press of people, I just stand still and enjoy. But then her hand
begins to move, ever so slowly.

	She is trying to get her hand between our bodies. I press my
ass tighter against the rear of the elevator, allowing her hand to
slide over to the inside of my thigh. Her fingertips are just barely
brushing the tip of my now quite hard organ. I move my eyes and see
that no one is paying any attention to us.

	Moving gently, so as not to draw any curious glances, I move
both of my hands around her hips and place them just below her waist.
I gently pull her tighter against me. She responds by squeezing my
dick with her fingers.

	I take her arm and place it behind me, on the cheeks of my
ass. She places her other hand on my ass also, and begins to slowly
grind her ass against my hardness. We are now on the first floor and
everyone exits the elevator except the lady and me.

	After everyone gets off, and the elevator continues down to
the basement, she doesn't change her position at all, and continues to
rotate and grind her tight ass against my crotch. I move my hands down
to feel her pussy. Even through the fabric of her dress, I can feel
the heat she has generated between her legs.

	The elevator stops. The door doesn't open. We both wait, her
hands still on my ass, and my hands still on her pussy. I hear someone
outside saying, "The door is stuck, go get the maintenance man," the
lady whispers to me, "This happens occasionally. We'll be out in about
five minutes. In the meantime, don't say anything. They'll work more
quickly to get us out if they think someone is stuck in here. Just be
quiet and enjoy." She continues to press the back side of her body
against my body, never turning around.

	I move her hands from her pussy, place them against the cheeks
of her ass, and gently push her forward, just a little. Then I reach
down and move her right hand from behind me and place it on my hot,
hard, dick. She begins to slowly rub her hand up and down the length
of my dick, while I reach around in front of her and again place my
hands on her pussy. I let my left hand glide slowly up the front of
her body until her left breast is in my hand. I can feel that she
isn't wearing a bra. Her soft, supple firmness feels so good to my
palm.

	I unbutton her top two buttons and reach my hand inside her
dress.

	Taking her right breast into my hand, I gently massage and
squeeze it, letting my fingers and my palm flick over her nipple,
feeling it begin to protrude.

	Meanwhile, her right hand is continuing to rub my dick,
squeezing it from time to time. My other hand is massaging her hot
pussy through her skirt.

	Something inside of me tells me not to try to get my hand
under her skirt - the extra bending necessary may break the spell. I
begin nibbling on her ear.

	Both of us are breathing heavily. My dick is so hard - her
hand on it making it feel so good. Her tit in my hand is one of the
nicest I have ever felt - not too large - not too small - firm, yet
soft. Her nipple is really standing out now, quite hard.

	I whisper to her that I want her to turn around so that I can
see her. She gently squeezes my dick and says, "No, it's better this
way." Then, we hear someone beginning to pry the elevator doors open.
She moves away from me, straightens up her clothing, and stands
staring straight ahead until the door opens.

	There is a tall, good looking gentleman standing in front of
the elevator.

	"Hi, Uncle Jim," she says. "Thanks for picking me up." They
walk away together, and I'm left standing there with a hard-on and
have to walk that way to my car. But, that night, getting undressed
for bed, emptying my pockets, I find a note in my hip pocket with her
name and phone number and "call me" written on it.