I was leaving. The lift wheezed and clanked to a halt and the door ground open. The lift had stopped six inches short of the floor. I grinned and stepped down into it.
"Can you hold the lift please?"
Came a female voice. I hit the 'Door Open' button and held while a tall, elegant impeccably dressed woman entered. I helped her manhandle a large, wheeled suitcase down the step. I had clocked her in the dining room last night, along with every other predatory male present. She was stunning.
She had disappointed all the hopefuls by leaving the dining room as soon as she finished her meal, leaving them to try their luck with the few females left, some obviously professional. I had one quiet drink enjoying their efforts and then retired to my own room. I had been there, done that. Hotel pickups are rarely satisfactory in my experience and the pros expensive and clinical.
"Ground?"
I asked my lift-mate.
"Ground."
She replied. I pressed the button. Nothing happened. I tried again. This time there was the usual grinding of ancient machinery. The lights flickered and went out. The the lift suddenly dropped. My fellow passenger screamed, I was close to screaming myself, this could end very badly.
There was an even louder scream, this time metal on metal, and our plummet slowed to a halt. The emergency light came on, then dimmed. But at least we were not in darkness.
"Are you alright?"
I enquired. She nodded. I tried the buttons, nothing. I pressed the emergency call button and we waited. Eventually there was a voice from outside;
"Is anybody hurt?"
"No."
"How many of you are there?"
"Two."
"The lift is stuck between the ground floor and the basement, the engineer has been called, but it will take forty-five minutes. But we can call the fire brigade to cut open the door if needed."
We looked at each other. She shrugged. I called out;
"We can wait for the engineer."
"Bang on the door if you change your mind."
Then there was silence. We both checked our 'phones. No signal. More silence, then my lovely companion giggled.
"In the book I'm reading, a couple get stuck in a lift. Reality copying art?"
"I think I might have read it, what happens?"
"If you've read it, you know what happens. But you can dismiss any ideas that you might be having, I'm a happily married woman."
"So how are we going to kill three quarters of an hour?"
"I spy?"
We both laughed.
"I'm Tom."
I said, holding out my hand. She shook it.
"Ann," she said. "And if and when we get out of this, I'm looking for another job."
There was silence, then I ventured;
"You said 'if', suppose we don't get out? This might be our last opportunity for a little, carnal pleasure."
"Then I will die unfulfilled. As I said, I'm happily married."
So was I. I hadn't seen my wife for four days and I had been saving all my love, my balls ached. Ann sighed.
"I'm not going to fuck you, but I'll give you a wank if you'd like."
I was gobsmacked. Really?
"I would like very much."
"Get it out then, if I like it, I'll wank it."
I had a raging hard-on. I was reluctant to drop my pants in case we were rescued early, I struggled to disentangle it and pull it through my fly. She wrapped long cool fingers around it. Ecstasy.
"Nice one," she said. "I do like a foreskin."
"You can't have that one,"I quipped. "It's in use."
She giggled, giving me a few genltle stokes.
"How about some inspiration," I breathed. "Show me your tits."
She squeezed my cock.
"I don't think inspiration is needed."
"Possibly, but I've shown you mine…"
She thought about it, released my cock and said;
"Well, as you asked so nicely."
She undid the two buttons of her tailored jacket. As I suspected, she was not wearing a blouse. Her full tits were encased by an expensive looking, lacy platform bra. She carefully lifted each beauty out of its cup, folded down the top and arranged them nestling on the platforms. Pale brown areola, darker brown tubular nipples fully erect. She was as aroused as I was. I tried to visualise her divine cunt seeping gently into the gusset of her matching lacy knickers. I reached out a hand to fondle a tit, she grasped my wrist.
"I didn't say that you could touch."
"It would be a waste not too."
She hesitated, then placed my hand on one ripe fruit. I fondled, rolling the nipple with my thumb. She groaned and resumed wanking me.
"Two of my favourite things."
I said softly.
"I think I can guess what the other one is. Does it by any chance begin with C?"
"Got it in one."
"You can say it, I've heard it before."
I leaned forward and said softly;
"Your moist cunt."
She shuddered as I said the word.
"I love that word. Cunt. Cunt. Cunt. But you're wrong, it's not moist, it's wet. Very wet. My very wet cunt."
She shuddered again.
"What's your favourite thing?"
"Guess."
"Are you holding one now?"
"Close."
"Balls?"
"Balls to you too. No."
"I give up."
Very carefully abd deliberately, she said;
"Spunk."
My turn to shudder.
"Where do you like it?"
"This lot is going on the floor."
"Yes, and quite soon. But where do you like it."
Her eyes were closed, she had a good rhythm going.
"On my tits."
She was breathing erratically, so was I, her stroke became faster, less even.
"Not between them, on them. On my nipples. I also like my husband to pull out and shoot it on my belly and my gaping cunt. But I like it inside me too, in my cunt, in my my mouth and sometimes, sometimes on very special occasions… up my arse."
That did it for me, as she said those last words she jerked hard and fast. I cried out as I came. The first powerful spurts seemed to shoot in slow motion, thick white gobbets tumbling through the air to spatter the oposite wall. My spurts just kept coming until I was drained.
I gave her my my handercheif to wipe her spunky fingers, then wiped my diminished cock and tucked away while she repositioned her tits and did up her jacket. There was no further conversation. Ten minutes later there was a knock on the door.
"Can you step clear of the door, I'm going to force it open."
Much bangin and creaking later, the face of the mechanic was peering down at us. After enquiring about our health, he said;
"Pass the bags up to me, then I will lower a ladder for you."
Being a gentleman, I allowed Ann to go first. Affording me a glimpse up her skirt towards what might have been. The manager and others were waiting to welcome us. Ann excused herselfto the ladies. She was a long time, I like to think that she was giving herself what she had given me in the lift. She avoided eye contact when she returned.
The manager was grovelling his apologies. He offered to waive the bills for our stay. As the bill was being paid by our companies, a pretty meaningless gesture. When we managed to get away, I walked Ann to her car, a standard issue company-mobile identical to mine but for the colour. I loaded her case into the boot then held out my hand, saying simply;
"Thank you."
She took my hand, but leaned in, kissed me lightly on the lips and said;
"No, thank you. It was an interesting way to pass the time."
Then she was gone.
