The Elevator Ride

Image of a woman inside an elevator, leaning against the mirror and holding onto the railing.

Content warning: Non-consensual sex.

The taxi dropped her off in front of an impressive building. Standing on the sidewalk, she looked up, feeling dizzy at the height of the building.

Her eye caught that of a man watching her from a window on the first floor. His gaze made her feel self-conscious. She averted her eyes and pulled at her short skirt, trying to make it longer. Her tight fitted blouse framed her beautiful breasts and the hint of her cleavage complements the roundness even more.

When she had gotten dressed this morning, she was in a daring mood. Underneath the skirt – of which the hem stopped just above her knee – she wore only hold-up stockings. Nothing else.

She couldn’t help looking up at the window again.

The man had disappeared.

She shrugged her shoulders, threw her long red hair to the back and walked towards the front door of the office building.

Inside the building, almost everything was of glass. The central atrium of the building was several storeys high, where the last two floors formed the roof of the atrium. On each side of the square atrium was one elevator. She saw people inside the closest glass elevator as they moved up and down to reach the different floors in the building.

Realizing she stared at everything with her mouth open, she looked around her and walked over to the reception area. She told the young man at the reception where she needed to be. It turned out the person she came to see had an office on the top floor.

She walked to the far elevator the young man had pointed her to, but didn’t notice the same man on the first floor watching her. Neither did she notice he walked to the same elevator she was heading for.

She waited patiently for the elevator to reach the ground level. When the doors opened, she stepped in and looked at the control panel in surprise. There were only four numbers on it: 0 – 1 – 29 – 30. This elevator only stopped on those floors.

She pushed on the button marked ‘30’ and expected to have a smooth ride up. As the elevator started moving, she turned away from the door and looked down at the people below her, on the different floors scurrying around between offices and the silhouettes of people in the other elevator. When the elevator stopped on the first floor, she didn’t even bother turning around.

In milliseconds, the scene changed.

A sound startled her.

Heavy breathing?

A zipper?

Before she could turn around, a hand covered her mouth. A whiff of masculine aftershave filled her nostrils.

Whoever was behind her roughly turned her body towards a sidewall of the elevator. The sidewall was partly glass, partly wood-paneled and her face was pushed against the wooden part, the hand still covering her mouth. Turning her eyes, she could still see people on other floors, in the atrium, and people in the other elevator. He pinned her tightly in this position even before the elevator started its journey to the two upper floors.

Struggling didn’t help. The man holding her was much stronger than she was.

He pulled up her skirt in one smooth movement, exposing her bare ass. A knee pushed between her legs, spreading her. The man grabbed her ass, squeezing it, breathing heavily. He lifted her leg with his knee, spreading her even more.

Fingers penetrated her.

She was wet, ready.

Ashamed.

Horny.

Afraid.

Excited.

Her pussy throbbed, but she was appalled by what was happening, knowing anyone could see her. Her nipples were hard, begging to be touched. He replaced his fingers with his erect cock, thrusting into her deep and hard, grunting in her ear.

She pushed her hips back, inviting him in.

“You. Are. Such. A. Fuck. Slut.”

He hissed each word into her ear with each hard thrust until he spurted his cum deep inside her.

The doors opened on the 29th floor, and the man disappeared.

She only managed to see part of his face, recognizing him as the man who had watched her when she got out of the taxi. The doors closed, and she tugged at her skirt, pulling it down, trying to smooth it. A trickle of wetness ran from her pussy as the bell inside the elevator chimed to inform her she had reached her destination.

Note: I originally wrote this story in August 2011 for the discontinued meme Wank Wednesday where the prompt was #bell. This story needed a lot of editing.

© Rebel’s Notes
Image by Khusen Rustamov from Pixabay


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