The Elevator

    Heather hurried to catch the elevator. A group of people came pouring out, leaving the doors open, the elevator empty. She shoved her foot against the door just as it began to close. She spun gracefully inside, avoiding the doors with her arm full of portfolios. As the doors began to close behind her, a hand came in and stopped them. She frowned in annoyance until she saw Sam's smiling face. He was followed by a buff young man in a nice suit.
    "Hi, Heather," Sam said happily. The second man nodded to her and pressed the 45th button on the console. Heather was flattered that Sam remembered her name. She hadn't seen him since the '99 Christmas Party.
    "Twenty-five for me," she said, steadying the pile of papers in her hands. "Hi, Sam," she said, blushing slightly.
    The second man turned and stared at the beautiful woman at the back of the elevator. She looked like a thin version of Pamela Anderson. She wore a form-fitting suit with a knee length skirt. Her legs were fabulous. Her chest was compact and beautiful. As far as he could tell she was perfect.
    The elevator suddenly stopped and an annoying alarm began sounding. The pile of papers in Heather's arms bent slightly, then fell in a cascade of cardboard and paper. She gasped and slapped a hand down on the pile. Sam reached for the falling papers, bumping into her as she did the same. The other man stomped on the flying papers before they could slide under the elevator door and fall to their deaths down the shaft.
    Heather placed the pile of papers on the floor and began retrieving those which had fallen. Sam and the other man joined her, very aware of the long, slender legs now facing them from beneath her raised skirt. She was wearing pantyhose. The mound of her pussy was easily discernable in the thin material of her pantyhose. Sam licked his lips and exchanged looks with the other man. Heather glanced up in time to see the look. She frowned and turned red in embarassment. She knew they were looking under her skirt, but it couldn't be helped. Loss of any one of those papers could mean the end of her job. Each one represented a case which had gone before the supreme court. Each one was invaluable for her boss's case.
    "I'm sorry," she said, not sure why she was apologizing. They should be apologizing, not her. But their intense interest in her body had her flustered. It was flattering, in a way. Sam had almost gotten into her panties during the Christmas party. When she sobered up later, she went home alone. She hadn't seen him since. He wasn't her type, he was too crude, too... eager. Of course he had been high at the time.

    "God, you look fantastic," Sam said breathlessly.
    "Th... thanks," she stammered. "Is the elevator stuck?"
    "I guess so," the second man said. "I believe I can shut off the alarm from here," he said, opening the metal door beneath the buttons. He flipped a switch and the alarm became silent.
    "Shouldn't we leave the alarm on so somebody can rescue us?"
    "Oh, no," he assured her, "It's not connected to anything outside of the booth. They will have their own alarms. But we must be patient, they have fifty floors to go, then the repairs to make. I know, I used to work in maintenance here," he said with much assurance.
    "Oh," she nodded.
    "Well if we're going to be stuck for a while, I need to steady my nerves," Sam said, taking out a joint. "I don't like tight places." He lit up without asking their permission. He inhaled deeply, then handed the joint to Heather. She took it reluctantly, secretly agreeing with his fear of tight places. She too feared elevators. She always imagined the bottomless pit beneath them. A long, dark tunnel where you could fall for several minutes, before splattering on the hard cement below. She inhaled deeply, then inhaled again. She finally handed the joint to the other man. Her head began spinning, almost immediately. She sat back against the wall and slid down to the floor. Her skirt came up almost to her waist. She pushed it down half-heartedly, trying to deal with a spinning head and Sam's sudden attention. As she sat on the floor, she found Sam setting next to her.
    "Oh, wow, that's better," Sam said, with his face just inches from hers. She was sandwiched between her precious stack of papers, and Sam. The man handed the joint back to her. There were a good three hits left on it, she took two. Sam took the last puff, touched the fire to his tongue to extinguish it, then chewed and swallowed the roach.
    The smell of marijuana was strong in the little room. The elevator was growing hotter. She started taking off her jacket, Sam eagerly helped. She sat back, feeling slightly better. Sam leaned close and sniffed her hair. She turned to find her face almost touching his.
    "Your hair smells good," he sighed, resting his chin on her shoulder.
    "Th... thanks," she said, with her lips close to his. He licked his own lips and leaned forward, giving her a quick, impulsive kiss. She felt the kiss clear down to her toes. Her nipples became immediately hard, and embrassingly apparent, behind the thin material of her white blouse. Sam didn't notice, but the other man did. He smiled to himself as his eyes ran over the exposed area of Heather's thighs, where her skirt was hiked up. They were really fine legs, the kind which could make any man's cock hard.
    Sam kissed Heather again, longer this time. She wilted momentarily, then struggled. Sam broke the kiss and looked at her in surprise.
    "He's in here," she said, nodding at the other man.
    "Oh, don't mind me," he said, facing the elevator doors. "I'll look the other way. It's a proven fact that sex is the best way to relieve a phobia."
    "Sex?" Heather asked breathlessly.
    "I wish," Sam said in a resigned voice. "You are probably not at all interested," he said, resting a hand on her right leg. "Although I've been told that that particular brand of grass can really turn a girl on. Has it?"
    "Oh yeah," Heather said, feeling a warmth spreading throughout her body. She was horny. She didn't know that it was a custom mix designed to do just that. It made a woman horny as hell. But she was very aware of Sam's hand, where it rested on her thigh, gently rubbing her leg through the material of her skirt. She looked up to find that the man was true to his word, he was facing the elevator doors. She looked down and quickly slid her skirt up, giving him access to her privates.
    Sam slid his hand into the top of her pantyhose and cupped her hot pussy. He slid his finger up and down in her moist slit, before pulling it out and holding it under his nose. Like a fine wine, he tested her aroma before holding the same finger under her nose. She sniffed, then opened her mouth and sucked the finger clean. Sam moaned in desire. He never expected to see Heather sucking his finger, or anything else for that matter. She had always been unreachable, which was one reason he decided to test the mixture on her. He knew that if he could get Heather, the ultimate fuck, he could nail anybody.
    "Take off your pantyhose," he whispered.
    "I want to go down on you."
    "Here," she asked, looking at the other man's back.
    "Right here, right now," he insisted, breathing loudly. She reached down and pushed on her pantyhose. He leaped forward to help her. In a moment they lay on her shoes, on the other side of the papers. He pulled her away from the wall, then slid down between her legs and kissed each silky smooth thigh, before sealing his mouth over her moist pussy. He sucked, moaning in desire. Her own moan was slightly louder than his. With her eyes closed she raised both legs and clamped them shut over his eagerly nuzzling face. Fire filled her pussy and ass. She mashed her breasts between the heels of her palms, while gently thrusting her pussy forward to meet his wonderful mouth. His tongue seemed to be everywhere, darting in and out of her, strumming her clit, or lapping the full length of her large cunt flesh. It was doing just what she wanted, as if her will was controlling it. The glow between her legs was turning into a raging inferno. She began babbling and withering. She licked her lips, wishing she had something to suck. Suddenly, as if by magic, she sensed a movement in front of her face. Her eyes flew open to see the second man standing with his penis out, waving it before her face. She hesitated only a moment before she put one hand on his penis, and one on his ass. She pulled him forward, eagerly taking his penis into her warm, red lips and sucking.
    He had a thick, if short cock. She took only the head into her mouth and sucked slightly, while using her tongue on the head. He withered and his legs almost buckled. With a coy look, she looked up, watching his face as she bobbed on his cock. She tried to match her movements with those Sam was creating in her own pussy. Between the attention, and the grass, she was feeling wonderful. She felt desirable, wanted, and sexy, the three things every woman should feel. She might be outraged later, but at the moment she felt like a goddess... or a whore. Both were worshiped in their own ways.
    Sam's face thrashed back and forth in her pussy, further stimulating her. His sucking lips pulled her clit out and let it snap back into her pussy.
    Heather squealed and threw her legs wide open. Holding each slender leg in one hand, Sam ate her pussy savagely, his passion driving him insane. Like Heather, the grass had made him horny. He had dreamed of eating Heather for years, but now he needed more. He needed to fuck her juicy pussy. He pulled her rubbery lips out and let them snap back, then backed away from her aromatic womanhood.
    "I want to fuck you," he said urgently. "On your knees."