The 60thFloorAndUp |

It all started one morning on my way to the express elevators to the 60thfloorandup. I was marveling at the bountiful ass of one of the secretaries for the firm that manages the tower (whom I knew from the WhatsApp groups for tower employees; her username was ‘BigWoman’) as I followed her into the building and through the lobby. She was wearing heels and tight, knit slacks. I was so engrossed in fantasizing about hotdogging her that I forgot that the back walls of the elevators, from waistlevel up, above a kind of railing, were mirrors. She caught me in full ogle. I blushed; she just smiled.

As we rode up, with her somewhere behind me in the packed elevator, my phone buzzed with an incoming SMS.

‘Like the view?’

“BLUSHING EMOJI”

‘It’ll cost you.’

“QUESTION MARK”

‘Peach emoji’

“SMILEY EMOJI”

We reached the 62nd floor, and off she went.

 #

 A few days later, I made my way through the lobby and to the elevators. I was one the first people on one of the elevators and wedged myself in one of the rear corners. My secretary friend was right behind me and stood right in front of me, her back to my front. Since the elevator was particularly crowded that morning, my dick (inside cotton shorts and thin wool trousers) was pressed up against her ass. To my embarrassment, I got hard, very. I backed as tightly into the corner as I could and prayed that she couldn’t feel it. But when the elevator jerked to a stop at the 30th floor, I lurched forward, right into her. There was no way she couldn’t feel me. The regular lights went out and the dim emergency lights came on. 

The intercom buzzed. “Good morning everyone in express elevator #4. We’re having a bit of an electrical problem here. We hope to have you all on your way to the 60thfloorandup in no time. Thank you.”

Nobody in the elevator got hysterical or anything; everybody was too engrossed in their smartphones.

Then the movement started.

Not the elevator, her.

Right where it counted.

Backandforth, upanddown…

Oh God, I thought, this can’t be happening.

But it was.

…backandforth, upanddown…

 The intercom buzzed again.

“Yeah, hi people in express elevator #4. That electrical problem is taking a bit more time. You should be on your way very shortly. In the meantime thank you for your patience.”

You’re not welcome asshole! I wanted to shout. I tried to think about what I’d like to do the engineer but had trouble forming a coherent thought because of what she was doing to me.

…forthanddownbackupfortbhkhhhmmmm…

I now prayed that she would finish me off before we got to the 62nd floor. A little voice reminded me that I hadn’t cum in my pants since I was 16. I told the little voice to fuck off, grabbed the railing in a deathgrip and gritted my teeth down to the gums. The elevator jerked into motion, shoving me into her again and launching me into the ionosphere. My universe contracted to one blissful point – the motion of her ass on my dick, which eagerly responded by pumping out hot jism all over my groin.

She got off at the 62nd floor.

I buttoned my jacket and got off at my floor. Thank God, I was the first nonassociate to arrive at the firm. I hurried to my office, shut the door and flopped down into my chair to enjoy an intense postorgasmic rush. I cleaned myself up, changed into the spare suit I always keep at the office, switched on my computer and got to work.

About thirty minutes later, one of the secretaries buzzed.

“Sir, there is a kid here with a package for you. He says he was told to deliver it personally.”

“Send him in.”

A kid from the delivery service in the lobby came in with a small package from the 5and10 around the block. I flipped him ten bucks; he left.

I grinned. It was a threepack of men’s briefs.

There was a note. “Listen to Mark and Graham at 14:00.”

Mark and Graham were the afternoon DJs for the classic rock station down on the 27th floor. From 14:0015:00, they took requests.

At 14:00, I logged on to the station website.

“Here’s one from ‘the elevator lady’. This is WDAE, all classic rock!”

And there, for the life of me, was Freddie Mercury belting out: “Are you gonna take me home tonight…?”

I texted her as soon as the song was over. 

‘QUEEN ROCKS. SMILEY EMOJI’

 ‘Doing anything tonight?’

 “QUESTION MARK’

 ‘I have a fireplace.’

 #

I lay flat on my back on the Japanese futon in front of her fireplace.

She sat on me, rocking backandforth, rubbing her pussy on my dick, as I reached up and caressed her marvelously ample breasts. I wasn’t actually inside her, but I didn’t care in the slightest. Her hips were relentless, and I knew I wouldn’t last. I erupted and thrashed around under her, moaning and grunting. My movements tipped her over the edge; she shouted and ground down on me until she was finished and collapsed on me.

“And what do you got to say now, my ‘skinny lad’?”

“‘Hey, big woman, you gonna make a big man out of me’.”

We rolled over laughing and quickly fell fast asleep in the firelight, a tangle of arms and legs.