Wednesday 19 June 2013

Shagging in a lift

It had been about ten days since Christina and I last saw one another.  I’d been in Nottingham, doing some audit work and it was tiresome and boring.  Since the company was paying for the hotel room, she took Friday off and met me up there.

It was great to see her - though we’d texted some pictures to each other and had some phone sex - and didn’t take us long to fall back into synch.  She was wearing a t-shirt and blue jeans and looked absolutely fucking stunning.  We walked around the town centre, went on a tram, she started talking dirty, so I talked dirty back and we did a bit of groping and decided it would be best to get back to the room.

We stood in the foyer and got into the lift with a group of other people. She stood in front of me, and I could smell her hair. I moved my face closer, breathing gently on her bare shoulder and neck and had to bite my tongue, to not bite her beautiful skin. My cock was rock hard, pressing against my jeans.

Our fellow passengers were watching the floor numbers and I thought ‘fuck it’. I licked my index finger and then slid my hand into the waistband of her jeans and down towards her arse cheeks. Christina stiffened against me, with the slightest of gasps. My fingers moved into the groove of her arse and I pressed my finger lightly against the bud of her arsehole. She pushed back against me hard, pinning me to the wall and reached back, pressing her hand hard against my cock.

“Undo your button,” I whispered in her ear and she did, the waist of her jeans suddenly going slack and allowing me better access.  I pushed my hand further, my fingers exploring past her arse and towards her pussy.  The very bottom of the lips felt moist which made me smile.  I kissed her neck, sucking lightly on the skin and I heard her give her lightest of moans.

The lift doors opened. I tensed, wondering if more people would crush in, but thankfully they all left. I moved Christina away from me, pulled my hands out of her jeans and turned her around.  She smiled, bit her lip and I pushed my hand back into her jeans, my thumb sliding easily into her pussy.  At the same time, I pressed the lift button for the top floor.

Before the doors were fully closed we were kissing hard, our tongues slapping each other, our breath coming in short gasps. Christina grabbed my head with both hands, pulling me hard into her, her tongue thrusting so far into my mouth it felt like she was trying to fuck my face.

She broke free. “Can we do it in here, can you fuck me?  It’s been too long, I don’t want to wait.”

I shoved my hands up her t-shirt, pushing her bra up over her tits and grabbing them roughly. I spun her around, to face the mirrored back wall of the lift and glanced at the floor-indicator lights above the door.  We had a few left and the lift was so - would anyone get on at the top floor?

I pulled the zip of her jeans down and I could see her arse, the thin fabric of her knickers separating her cheeks.  I looked up and into the mirror to see her staring intensely at me. She nodded. I spat into my hand and rubbed it between her legs, into her wet pussy, then over the head of my cock.

“Come on,” she said, sounding half-strangled, “fuck me, Pete!”

I pressed the head of my cock against her pussy and she stood on tiptoes, moving up against me so that she could almost push herself back to sit on my cock. I rubbed up and down her pussy lips until she was biting her lips and then slid into her, gently but firmly, moving against her so that if it hurt, I could stop. Finally, I was literally balls deep.

“Fuck that’s good,” she said, breathing a bloom of condensation onto the mirror, “fuck.”  We started to build a rhythm, me thrusting and her moving up and down.  Very  soon I was thrusting so hard that the sound of her arse slapping my belly was almost echoing around the lift.

I watched my cock and her pussy, then into the mirror. Christina was braced against the handrail, biting her lips, her eyes half closed. She was breathing quickly.  I reached up and cupped her right breast and it made her jump. She opened her eyes, smiled lazily at me, then let herself go back to the fucking, pushing against me harder.

Her pussy seemed to suck at my cock, pulling it in further than I thought it could go. With everything else, the sight and the sound and the feeling, I was almost there and then she came, hard.

Her pussy walls rippled against me and I eased off the pressure on her clit, grabbing her other tit to try and give her a bit of support. I felt her legs wobble and she made a strange sound, then shook her head and seemed to come back to me. I flicked her clit, making her squirm and she reached down, pulling my hand away, pulling up and licking my fingers.

That did it. I thrust even harder into her, sucking on her neck hard enough for a love-bite and she licked my fingers. Then I was coming deep inside her and she moaned at that and seemed to come again herself, leaning into the mirror and whimpering, almost incoherently. I kept thrusting until it was too much, then leaned against her, bracing myself with my hands on the mirror.

The bell for the floor dinged and the doors slid open and, thank goodness, there was an empty hallway. We quickly separated, my cock sliding out of her pussy with a wet sound and my cum glistening in the soft hairs around her pussy.  She took a tissue out of her bag and mopped it up, as I tried to sort out her bra and t-shirt for her.

She began to giggle and so did I, overwhelmed by what we’d just done. I pressed the button for our floor and we zipped up, buttoned up, and arranged ourselves as the lift headed down. There were people waiting on our floor and we walked by them, flushed and sweaty and grinning like fools.

“I wonder if they’ll smell us,” I said.

Christina smiled. “Who knows. Come on, I need a shower.”


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