As the elevator doors closed shut I knew it was going to be a loooong ride to the ground floor from the 25th. As if reading my mind, I caught his eyes looking at me.. bouncing inquisitively from my face down my body and back to…. “hello cleavage” I could hear him thinking… That instant response/reaction that would come off as me saying the word “Jerk” didn’t follow… why? Cause I was doing the exact same thing he was doing.
We had just gone past the 20th floor and no one had stopped the elevator.. Oh, I forgot, it was almost 9 pm.. finding anyone heading down around this time is always rare. At that moment he cleared his throat as if to bring my thoughts back to giving him attention. Little did he know what I was thinking… “Please don’t say anything… please don’t ruin this”…
He heard my thoughts. He obeyed, he simply looked at me. Gave a brief smile revealing a set of pearly white teeth like none I’d seen recently. They parted and then revealed his oh so long tongue. He licked his lips – gently and as if leading an oral choreography, my tongue followed – I shook my head mentally at my silliness. Little did I know it was only the beginning.
Brotherman must have been at least 6 feet 2 standing right beside me TDH and all; with things being pretty much hush hush in yoniville for the past few weeks it was easy for my mind to wonder… yes…I was merely wondering as I felt one of his strong firm hands pull me closer while the other stopped the elevator on the eleventh floor. The moment I felt his lips against mine I let go of my “wondering” self – completely! It wasn’t until I heard the elevator alarm going off moments later as I dangled mid-air barely holding on to a railing high up and muttering all sorts of curse words as brotherman continued to thrust deeper and deeper into me that I knew what was going on. Sighting the camera carefully tucked away in a corner couldn’t even get me to censor my words or were they moans.
The elevator doors opened and as if planned, brotherman (who impressively tidied us up) walked in the left direction, while I went right. I once read that a girls ultimate fantasy is having a *french fling. As I walked away I turned back to look at him once more … *sigh*… he could have been mine.
*French fling – having absolutely mind-blowing sex with a total stranger who you’ll never ever meet again.
You must have read somewhere about some kind of “ultimate fantasy” for guys and chics… use the comment box to share what you’ve heard, which you believe and which you’d rather have. Speak your mind. Cheers.