Before I put my phone away again, I use the light to find my way to the corner furthest away and sit down on the floor. It’s getting warm here, so I take off my coat and pull off my shoes, wiggling my toes back and forth. If we’re going to be here for a while, I might as well get comfortable.
“We could be stuck in here all night,” he says, right after I turn my phone back off, leaving us in complete darkness.
“I see you as more of the glass-half-empty kind of guy. What a surprise,” I murmur.
“If that’s how you see it. Maybe it’s the other way around. Instead of complaining about being stuck in the elevator, you could be glad. You’re stuck with me and not some sweaty old guy who hasn’t showered in three weeks.”
“You are infuriating and full of yourself.” I scoff, even though I know he is kind of right. One janitor comes to mind. Karl, I think his name is. His hair is always greasy, he smells like cigarette smoke and body odor when I pass him, and every time he looks at me, he gives me a creepy smile. Yeah, this guy might be a prick, but at least he isn’t Karl.
“What’s your name?” he asks, the sound of his voice making me jump.
“Anna,” I lie. I don’t know why, but I don’t want him to know my real name.
“Anna, what could we do to pass the time while we are stuck in here? I can imagine a few things.”
His voice is sultry in the dark, and that tingling sensation I felt from earlier returns. I have to get out of this elevator before I do something stupid.
“We are not going to do anything.” My voice is curt, but my body wants to see what he has in mind. “And anyway, you never told me your name.”
“Mmm, let’s go with Paul.”
“I don’t believe that for a moment, but Paul it is.”
“You don’t like it? I can choose a different name if you’d prefer?”
“Paul is fine,” I say, shaking my head.
For a few minutes, silence settles over us. Neither of us makes a sound or even moves. The air is thick with tension, and I swear if we ever get out of here, I’m never taking another elevator again.
Paul’s cologne drifts over to me, and the scent is turning me on. Being in the dark with a strange man, a man who moments ago told me he would spank me, is all-encompassing. Add to that the ability of not seeing, and it’s almost a fantasy created in one of the books my mother reads.
“Are we going to sit here in silence for the rest of the night?” he asks into the darkness.
“What would you suggest we do?” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I can sense the huge smirk on his face.
“I have something in mind… come over here and I’ll show you,” he says, his voice low, laced in desire. “Or would you rather me come over to you?”
His seductive voice vibrates through my body, settling deep within my core. My reaction to him isn’t natural. This whole situation is odd, but a part of me, maybe the part that is begging for a man’s touch because it’s been so long, makes me curious to see how far he’ll go.
But then I think he can’t be serious. He’s teasing, right? There is no way he is actually going to want sex… in here… with me. It’s one thing for my mind to race through all the possibilities, but it’s a complete other for him to have the same ones.
“Are you thinking about me spanking you again? It’s still on the table, if you’re wondering.”
“I can’t tell if you are being serious right now, or is this all a joke to you?”
I hear him moving around on the other side of the elevator, then somewhere closer to me. His suit rustles as he pulls his jacket off, and the slide of his pants on the carpeted rug is distinct. It’s as if time is standing still, and the thought of him touching me in the dark is driving me crazy with need.
“Let me show you how serious I am,” he whispers, and I know he is close enough to me now that he can touch me. And then he does. His hand finds my lower leg first. He feels for my ankle, and when he finds it, he starts there, dragging his fingers up my leg, painfully slow.
With every inch his fingertips travel across my skin, more moisture builds between my legs. His touch leaves a trail of hot skin behind, and all I can think of is him touching the rest of me. The slow perusal is torture, when all I want to do is lean into his hand and beg him for more.
He pauses when he reaches the hem of my skirt, as if he is waiting for me to say something, to give him permission. I couldn’t turn back now, even if I tried. His touch has brought me from sane Riley into crazy Riley in moments.
“If you are so serious about this, then why are you stopping?” At the end of the sentence, he moves again, letting his hand travel all the way up my thigh until he reaches my panty-covered pussy.
“Spread your legs for me,” he orders softly, and I’m more than happy to comply.
I hike up my skirt, pulling it up over my waist. Even if he can’t see them, I’m glad I put on satin panties instead of my normal cotton ones. Thank God for laundry day.
I open up wide for him, placing my heels on the floor. He pulls my panties to the side, slipping his finger between my soaked folds. The instant he makes contact, I suck in a full breath, my body coming alive as if he flipped a switch.
“Fuck, you’re wet. You should have just told me how bad you wanted this. I would have been over here much sooner,” he says, so close to my face now that I can feel his minty breath fan out over the side of my face. A shiver runs down my spine when I feel him plant a hot, open mouth kiss against the sensitive skin on my neck.
At the same time, his finger slips deeper between my wet folds, making me gasp. The tip of his finger finds my entrance, and then he slips in. His thick digit is slick with my arousal, sliding in with ease.
I moan softly when he is all the way in and his palm is rubbing against my clit. He keeps kissing my neck, sucking, teasing the tender skin. He moves his finger inside of me, thrusting it deep while rubbing the pad of his palm against my swollen clit.
“Are you imagining my dick inside of you? Filling you up… stretching your tight little cunt.”
Fuck, his dirty words ignite a flame deep in my core, and all I can think of is his cock pumping in and out of me, doing the things he whispers in the dark.
He adds a second finger, then a third, stretching me, bringing me pleasure I didn’t know I could feel from just getting fingered. He thrusts into me over and over again, bringing me closer to the peak each time.
The base of his hand hits my bone, and I buck at the slight pain of it all. He places his other hand on my stomach, holding me down, and I sink to the floor, ready for his command. He pounds into me, making me jerk with every movement, but the pleasure is too great for me to tell him to stop.
If he fucks like he fingers, the best is yet to come, and as surreal as this is, I don’t think I would trade this moment for anything.
“Come for me, come all over my fingers as you imagine my cock deep inside of you. You want that, don’t you? You want to feel me fuck this pussy, making it mine. Come for me,” he orders, and his words seem to have a direct line to my pussy because the moment I hear them, I explode into a tiny burst of stars.
My release gushes into his palm as the orgasm ripples through me like a storm. Shamelessly, I push my pussy into his hand, riding out the last waves of pleasure rippling through me.