EROTIC STORY SHOWCASE: "Earthquake" (actually, an elevator story!)
Earlier today, I posted a little fantasy trigger about getting stuck in an elevator with a sexy stranger. In a rather weird coincidence, browsing old (really old, we are talking pre-2000) erotic story archives, I am stumbling over a story by an author (Kristen) who was quite well-known at the time and is set ... ... in a broken elevator.
So of course I got to share this now . The link is here http://www.asstr.org/~Kristen/stories/earth.htm but since this archive is getting frayed round the edges with more and more pages becoming inaccessible, I have also pasted it below. Read and enjoy.
Also, let me know with upvotes and comments if you like this kind of writing. I find parts of it controversial and uncomfortable since they raise serious issues around consent, some of which have been hotly debated elsewhere on Steemit. On the other hand, literature can be as un-PC as it likes; anything else would be evil self-censorship ;)
My plan is to pull other stories out of those ancient archives for you, and the more feedback I have, the better :)
Earthquake
by Storysman and Kristen
The first thoughts entering Tom's mind on regaining consciousness were hazy and almost completely dark. His mind struggled to regain its strength against the numbing, disorienting sensations currently dominating him. He didn't know if he was dreaming, or where he was. Only gradually did he realize that his open eyes were detecting some light.
It was a dim light, coming from above. But where was he? He shook his head, then suddenly remem- bered. He was in an elevator. Panic surged through him with the recollection.
He had stepped into an elevator, happy to see the woman already inside it. The woman... Melissa... yes, he remembered. Sweet Melissa, who worked in the high-rise office and whom he had grown to worship.
He had memorized her routine, and had often been 'lucky' enough to be in the elevator at the same time as she was. On this occasion they hadn't been in the lift more than a few seconds when... an earthquake! Yes, the memory was clearer now!
The building had begun to shake, and the elevator had started to fall. He remembered the terror that had leapt into him and the helplessness he'd felt. He couldn't recall every detail of the event, only Melissa's panicked screams, and that he'd feared for his life. And then...
Tom looked around him, and figured out what must have happened. The elevator had dropped all the way, or was stuck. The building had collapsed on top of them, knocking out all power other than the emergency light. But he was alive! He'd survived!
He didn't know if it was safe to move, but knew he had to get out somehow. He felt his body jump with urgency. Who knew whether or not the building would collapse any further? Who knew if, or when, a rescue crew might find him? He started to get up, but fell back down clumsily.
He shook his head again, hoping to regain some mobility, and he now realized there was something soft underneath him. Something human. Could it be Melissa?
Tom looked down at the unconscious body while his brain continued to clear. It WAS Melissa!
They'd never exchanged more than an artificial, uncomfortable "hello," but Tom knew her very well. He had long memorized her features: her thick, flowing, black hair and greenish eyes; her slim, well-developed frame, accentuated by elegant business attire. She always dressed professionally, and sometimes that was more maddeningly arousing than if she'd strolled into work in a bikini.
A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as he looked at, and felt, the unconscious female body. None had anything to do with the rational, survival-oriented nature that had been uppermost a minute before.
They were all of her, of Melissa, of the wonderful body pressed tightly between the elevator floor and Tom's own flesh. Her body... his body... trapped, and alone together. But was she alive?
A shock of dread raced through him at the thought. She had to be! She just had to be! A mixture of relief and excitement overwhelmed him on feeling her breast flutter against his. She was alive!
He moved to give her a little more room. This allowed her lungs to take in more air, and soon she was breathing regularly, creating the incredible sensation, for him, of her full, soft breasts rhythmically pressing against his chest.
He attempted to sit up, to examine her more fully in the dim emergency light. "Ahh!" His head banged against something hard after moving just a few inches.
Tom ducked his head, and looked around carefully. The elevator hadn't fared well in the fall. The ceiling was split open by a series of beams that ran across the elevator space close to the floor, leaving about two-and-a-half feet of headroom, insufficient either to sit up in or to maneuver in an attempt to escape. For the moment, however, it was enough for Tom to look at Melissa...
She was strikingly beautiful, even now. Her lips were red with lipstick, and slightly parted as her body drew breath. There were several smudges on her cheeks, but they only added to the sweetness of her face.
When she was in the elevator with him, Tom had wanted to spend all his time looking at her. Of course he couldn't; it wouldn't have been appropriate. She would have noticed him absorbing her charms, and might not have reacted well.
But now her eyes were closed and her mind unconscious, as if pleasantly sleeping at home in bed. He looked at her chest. She was wearing a dark jacket, the color hard to tell in the dim light. A silver, satiny blouse was partly visible underneath, with a few buttons undone to hint at exciting cleavage. He looked at her waist area, where the dark fabric of her skirt merged into the cloth of his own shirt.
He suddenly smiled at his situation. He was poised above Melissa, supported by his arms, which were propped on either side of her body. His legs were pressed against hers, but between them, and spreading them apart, so that his full weight didn't press on her.
Now that his thoughts were clear, he realized the opportunities inherent in the situation. His heart began to pound with excitement as he looked at the limp body. He could stare now as long as he liked; she wouldn't know. He could kiss her; she wouldn't know.
He trembled at the thought. He could touch her breasts, and she wouldn't know. Did he dare? Did he dare work open the buttons of that satiny blouse? Did he dare unclasp her sure-to-be-enticing bra and expose those incredible round breasts?
What if she woke up? He stared at Melissa's chest, his body aching to see her as he had longed to do ever since he had first laid eyes on her. Yet he still hesitated.
He yearned to see her unclothed, but he would have liked her to be a willing party. Yes, she was beautiful. Yes, she was sexy. But those brief moments of meeting they'd shared in the past had suggested to him that she was someone he could really care for.
How could he abuse her trust, especially when she might come to and catch him in the act?!
Tom's eyes darted quickly up and down her body. This might be the only chance he ever had to enjoy her. He wasn't going to rape her; he could never do that. But if he could just see her, experience her, so that he'd have something to remember her by...
He lifted the flap of Melissa's jacket, feeling his penis stir at the sight of her chest. The satin was pulled tight against her curves, allowing the lacy pattern of her bra to show clearly.
Moreover, if he wasn't mistaken, the contours of protuberant nipples were also visible. But he wouldn't unbutton her blouse; at least, not yet. He had to test her awareness first.
He slid off her body into the tiny amount of space beside her. He eyed her skirt, the whole of which he couldn't see because the confined space gave him only enough room to take his head back a couple of inches. He looked along her body and cautiously put his hand on her thigh.
If she stirred now he could let go and feign innocence. However, she didn't move. He cautiously lifted the hem of Melissa's skirt, revealing smooth, creamy skin and shiny pink panties which barely covered the essentials. His hand trembled, and he gulped at the sight.
He returned his eyes to Melissa's still face, staring at her full red lips while cautiously moving his hand on to her leg. Her skin was so smooth, so perfect and firm.
He slipped his hand in between her thighs, watching intently for any reaction. He had to touch her. He had no choice.
When he was certain that she was unconscious it took all his willpower to keep from ripping off her clothes and rutting like an animal. However, it couldn't stop him touching her. He pressed his fingers against the pink satin gusset, right between her legs and directly against her pussy. His fingertip seemed to have a mind of its own, moving up and down, and from side to side, in her crotch.
Tom was deafened by the sound of his own breathing as he nervously glanced down at the joyful liberties his hand was taking.
He cupped it between her legs, letting each finger experience the silky, intoxicating touch.
Meanwhile his left hand fidgeted from lack of use, demanding that it, too, be placed somewhere on Melissa's voluptuous body. Her breast, for instance...
Tom knew he'd never forgive himself if he failed to take such a golden opportunity to touch her breasts, even if only through her shirt. Still closely watching her face, he rested gingerly on his side and pressed his left palm gently against her right breast. It jiggled slightly, and the excitement of it momentarily blurred his vision.
After a slight pause, he took the breast more firmly into his hand, lifting it and moving it here and there with slow rubs and soft squeezes. What an incredible woman! he thought. Incredible!
His belief in her unconsciousness had strengthened, and he instinctively pressed harder against the soft flesh. He felt the rigid bra beneath her shirt, and, more exciting, the shape and texture of her pussy and its satin covering. God, he wanted her! He wanted more than anything to pull off her clothes and thrust his penis deep inside her.
Tom momentarily closed his eyes as his hands probed more roughly, realizing that he was losing control of himself. He needed to touch her naked flesh, to unbutton her blouse, unclasp her bra, and take her nipples into his mouth. He needed to smell her flesh scent, and feel her breasts against his cheeks. He needed to slip his hand inside her panties, and probe her soft, delicate cunt with hungry fingers...
Melissa stirred, and Tom froze, his hands still clasping her body, as her lips twitched and her eyelids fluttered. He swiftly smoothed her skirt as best he could, and took his hands away.
He considered pretending to be asleep. Surely she would suspect nothing if she found him unconscious, when she realized where they were.
Melissa slowly opened her eyes, and saw... nothing. Her first thought was that she must have been asleep in her dark bedroom. However, it didn't take her long to realize that she was lying extremely uncomfortably on the floor.
Then she thought: why is it so dark and silent? Everything was so still. No busy hum of a workday office building, no sounds at all. Her memory suddenly jumped into focus, and she knew where she was.
The last thing she remembered was the elevator doors closing - then everything went black.
Enough of this, she thought. I'd better get out of here. She was starting to rise, when a hand touched her shoulder.
A momentary shock went through her body, fright giving her an instant adrenaline rush. Then a voice spoke in the dim light.
"Melissa, are you all right?" She instantly recognized the voice as belonging to Tom. Yes, she remembered entering the elevator with Tom. Fear turned to relief. Someone was with her; she wasn't alone.
Tom explained that there had been some kind of disaster, and that they were trapped.
They both began to explore their situation, moving around gingerly on hands and knees. Melissa was acutely aware of her companion.
She'd long admired him from afar, for his muscular body and graceful walk. She thought: I'm attracted to too many men; that's my problem.'
While they continued to explore the twisted wreckage of their temporary prison, thoughts of her past ran through Melissa's mind.
She'd been an inquisitive child, and had always liked boys. She liked their wildness, and thought they had more fun than she and her female friends did. Her mother used to nag her about her free-and-easy attitude to boys and her friendships with them, and this had made her self-conscious about showing her feelings.
Sometimes she wondered how her mother had managed to conceive her, because she couldn't visualize her mother fucking her father; her mother would never have unbent sufficiently to let her dad touch her.
Her mother's constant assaults on her had made Melissa turn toward quiet denial, in the form of always keeping her own counsel, never allowing friends or acquaintances to know what she was really thinking, or how she really felt.
Eventually Tom and Melissa stopped exploring their little cage and came together. Both realized that they were stuck unless (or, more hopefully, until) someone rescued them.
Melissa looked at her fellow captive (by now their eyes were well-adapted to the weak light) and smiled, wondering if they'd ever get out of this alive. It crossed her mind that Tom was nicer looking than she had really noticed before. It may have been a fear of dying, or the danger they were in, but she seemed to sense his need for her.
She thought guiltily of John, who had been her lover and best friend for over a year now. She wasn't actually dissatisfied with him; he wasn't very exciting to be with. Now she was really feeling guilty.
Tom must have sensed the warmth on her cheek, because he moved closer and touched it, saying: "Are you feeling OK? You seem flushed."
Melissa's mouth opened to say something, but she suddenly held back. She pulled her head away. "I'm fine," she said.
Tom took his hand back. He feared he'd offended her, and at the moment Melissa didn't want to contradict that impression. She laughed to herself, acutely aware of Tom's body beside her and thinking that they were as close as any lovers.
She might be at home, in her bed, with John beside her. She could be nude, fresh from an intense bout of love-making, or perhaps on the verge of sleep. Now that really was funny!
When was the last time she had intense love-making with John? Probably the last time she'd been stuck in an elevator! Strange, that in a situation so life-threatening, she was thinking about sex! Was she insane?
If she told her thoughts to Tom, a man she barely knew, he'd probably laugh at her and secretly wish he was with someone genuinely trying to escape. But what else could she do? She had a man next to her, and the life she'd been living seemed to have been on a crash course equal to this elevator trip.
*
Tom stared up into the elevator's torn ceiling and the apparent infinity of beams and darkness above. Strange, how fate had apparently granted him his wish.
Before the accident, what wouldn't he have given to be lying beside this woman? How often he had dreamt of having her legs brush against his, of hearing her clothes rustle as she adjusted her body by his side. And here she was!
But it was only half the wish. He couldn't kiss her. He couldn't stroke her hair. He couldn't undress her, touch her, make love to her. He couldn't even touch her cheek without her shying away. All he'd been able to do was fumble with her clothes when she was unconscious.
But who could blame her? She was already spoken for. From tidbits of information he'd acquired when she'd been talking to a friend in the elevator he knew she had a boyfriend. He figured she was happy with her life, and couldn't possibly dream of him the way he dreamt of her.
Well, one thing was for sure. He wouldn't let her die. He had to save her, even if he couldn't have her.
"Do you think we're going to make it? she asked.
Make what..Love? was the questioning response that entered his mind, and he answered himself: 'No.' Aloud he said: "Yes. We've got a lot going for us. We're in good shape. We still have our senses and our brains. We'll be OK..."
"I have to admit I'm scared."
Tom looked at Melissa, who was facing him. God, she was beautiful! He longed to pull her towards him, to wrap his arms around her...
Suddenly, and to his own surprise, he took her hand. He expected her to pull it back, as though his touch would be more terrible than the situation they were in. But she let him hold on to it, and smiled at him, evidently grateful for the comfort he was offering. He wondered just how much comfort she would be grateful for.
"It's funny," she said. "I see you so often, but hardly know you. Somehow, I think we'll know each other a lot better by the time we get out of this."
'Intimately' was Tom's unexpressed interjection.
They continued to talk a while, describing their lives, their work, their plans. It was all at a superficial level, yet somehow it helped them both to feel sane. Melissa let Tom hold her hand the whole time. She even drew a little closer to him, close enough for Tom to smell the remnants of her perfume.
After a while, though, her voice started to grow weaker. She let her hand slip out of his, and her eyelids began to flutter.
"You need some rest," Tom said.
"I think you're right," she answered, "but this isn't the most comfortable of beds."
Tom saw his opportunity to make an offer which would appear kind, while actually expressing his own desire. "You can rest on me, if you like..."
She looked as if she would like to accept, but didn't want to seem too forward. "That's OK. I'm sure I can manage."
"Come on, it'll be good for you. You may have hurt your head. Lying on an elevator floor won't do it any good. I'm a lot softer, and I won't mind at all." Tom followed up his speech by rolling on to his back.
Melissa eyed his chest. It did look kind of nice and snug. "Well, OK," she said. "But promise not to tell my boyfriend."
He promised. He wouldn't tell about this, or about what he'd done earlier. And certainly not about what he planned to do if he got the chance. With any luck, she'd offer her chest to him when he needed a nap. Please, he thought. Please let Melissa offer me her breasts for a pillow.
"Your heart's really thumping," she said.
"Well, I'm scared, too." He didn't know if she would buy that, but what else could he say? He was grateful that she couldn't see how excited he was.
Her head was lying under his chin, her left breast was mushed against his stomach, and her right leg rested on his own right leg. She shifted a couple of times, which increased her contact with him.
Meanwhile Tom lay quite still, seething with lust. There was no chance of him sleeping now. He was a little worried that Melissa would move further forward on him, and feel the erection that he was sporting in his pants. However, she seemed deliberately to avoid that area, almost as if she was teasing him.
God, the smell of her hair! He was all too well aware of his breathing, and the rapidity with which his chest rose and fell. She felt so soft, delicate, and deliciously vulnerable against his body.
He was holding her close with his right arm, and soon found himself stroking her with it. She didn't respond. She was asleep! Like a purring kitten, she lay pressed against him. The softness of her breasts buried into him like a half-embrace. The hem of her skirt lifted above her thighs as she stretched her leg over him.
Tom moved his hand downwards, tracing the smooth contours of her body from hip to mid-thigh. He slid it underneath her jacket, and felt the smooth press of her blouse against his palm.
Did he dare? He tugged gingerly at the satiny material, eventually managing to lift it out of her skirt. She would surely assume it to be the result of moving in her sleep, he reasoned.
He pulled the shirt out and slid his hand up her bare back, breathing heavily as he did so. He lightly probed her shoulder blades, her shirt against the back of his hand, then he trailed his fingertips across the smooth texture of her bra.
Too bad she was pressed against him! Tom had loved the feel, the soft, cushiony feel, of her breasts pressed against him, but now regretted that they weren't directly accessible.
His hand was already in her shirt, and all he needed was to move it to the front of her body, but her position prevented this. Still, he carefully pushed his hand in as far as he could, and felt about a square inch of room under Melissa's arm, enough for one finger.
He carefully extended his probing to the tiny area of breast he could reach with his finger, and delicately stroked the smooth bra cup. Even such a small touch sent a stream of electricity through his skin.
His body felt so alive, so much in need of her. His penis was aching, longing to be inside her. He took her left hand with his, and carefully lifted, then lowered it towards his waist. He paused for an eternity, listening and feeling for any sign of wakefulness on her part.
When he was reasonably satisfied none would be forthcoming, he lowered her hand on to his stiff cock, and slowly, ever so slowly, moved it up and down his clothed member.
This gave him an idea. He might be unable to bare her body for him to touch, but perhaps he could bare HIS body and make HER do the touching!
Knowing he wasn't really safe, that he could be in big trouble for this, Tom unzipped his pants with his free hand. Then, oh so carefully, he pulled Melissa's hand into his pants, and through the opening in his underwear.
He groaned quietly as her bare palm and fingers covered his aching naked cock. The sensation was exquisite.
He slowly humped with his hips, causing her hand to move very slightly on his shaft. He longed for her to close her grasp; to awake, move her head down towards her hand, and press those sweet lips to his erect penis in an intimate kiss.
Of course that wasn't going to happen, so he continued to take whatever enjoyment was in reach. He was touching part of her breast, only a thin bra between his finger and her naked flesh. And she was touching his cock, his bare, hard cock, with her bare hand.
Tom almost hoped they wouldn't be found; that, somehow, a magic supply of food and water would appear and he could be like this with Melissa forever. But that was just a dream, and he knew he'd better not take too much advantage of the situation. If Melissa woke up, who knew how she might react? She couldn't get away, but she might land a few punches or catch him a painful blow with her knee.
Anyway, he pulled his hand out of her blouse, and her hand from his pants. Then he tried to sleep. At best, he achieved a cold sense of grogginess.
Indeed, the floor was quite difficult to sleep on. He spent his waking time listening for signs of rescue, but none came. He felt they surely would; it was surely just a matter of time. Thank God, he could enjoy himself until then...
Melissa herself eventually stirred, and strained to look at Tom's face. Their eyes met, and her question, whether he was still sleeping, answered itself."Hi," she said stiffly.
"Haven't you been able to sleep?"
God, no! Tom thought. "A little," he offered.
She sat up straight, almost hitting her head on a beam. Tom was keenly aware that her breasts were still touching him.
"You can't be very comfortable like this," she said. "Here...," and she slid off him, down by his side. Maybe he'd be more comfortable like that, but he'd been enjoying the discomfort of her proximity. She closed her eyes again, but couldn't seem to get comfortable.
Tom was aching to feel her again, to explore her body. "Why not use your jacket as a pillow?" he suggested.
"Good idea!" Melissa tried to wriggle out of her coat, but the restricted space made it difficult. Tom helped her as best he could. The more clothes she took off the better!
At last they succeeded, and Melissa bunched up the coat under her head and settled back. She looked at Tom. "This isn't fair," she said. "You don't have a pillow."
He shrugged.
Melissa looked down at her chest. She knew, as well as Tom did, that the softest pillows in this elevator hung from her chest as a pair. She patted herself. "Come on," she said, "but remember, not a word to my boyfriend."
He didn't need to be asked twice, immediately sliding across to her and laying his head plumb on her chest. The area of his face experiencing Melissa's softness ran from his ear to his chin. Her heart seemed to be pounding unnaturally fast; he could hear it booming inside her chest cavity. Probably nervousness, he figured. She'd offered him the comfort of her breast out of politeness, not from sexual interest.
Melissa was, indeed, nervous and a little embarrassed by such close contact. She didn't know quite how to behave. Tom was, after all, a virtual stranger, but she couldn't stop herself wondering what it would be like to have him as a lover.
Soon, however, she was overcome by the tensions of the day, and allowed her eyes to close again. Her last thought before slipping into a deep sleep was... 'I wonder what he would be like?...
Tom's heart rate speeded up as Melissa's slowed. It wasn't any reduction in nervousness that was slowing her body down; it was, rather, the onset of sleep. He felt the hardness of her blouse buttons against his cheek and lips. He intended going to work to get them open just as soon as he was certain she was unconscious again.
He knew that he should have been satisfied with what he'd already received. After all, he'd had his hands between her legs and on her chest. He'd felt and groped her in a way, and to an extent, that most men only dreamed of, including himself. But he didn't feel it was enough. He knew that if this moment passed, and a rescuer appeared and freed them from their trap, and he hadn't experienced her in every way he possibly could, he'd never forgive himself.
If that meant risking being caught with his hand in the cookie jar or, in this case, Melissa's bra or panties, then so be it.
"Melissa?" Tom spoke quietly.
There was only the sound of slow breathing; she was fast asleep.
With a huge sense of excitement he reached for the top button of her blouse. Melissa wasn't blessed with the largest breasts he'd ever seen, but they were full and round, and extraordinarily enticing. On her body, in combination with her face, and with her smile and attitude, they seemed to him to represent her femininity even more than the honeypot between her legs.
Melissa was oblivious to the growing nakedness of her chest, Tom steadily working the buttons undone with one hand. It was a slow, though by no means a tedious, process. Successive inches of her cleavage became bare, and Tom soon had the biggest and hardest erection ever.
He worked his way down to her stomach, and the blouse now no longer covered Melissa's breasts. Apart from her bra, her chest was completely open to his gaze.
He went for the clasp, and bit his lip to hear the 'snap' as it came undone. He was so close now. He could see the texture of her skin, her few freckles, and the slopes and shadows of her body. Her white lace bra was in perfect keeping with the beauty of the woman who wore it, but its job was done.
Tom brushed aside the cup over her right breast, and held his open palm over the exposed globe as if in worship. Even her nipple seemed asleep. It was brownish, matching her skin tone, and seemingly dormant.
No, wait. The movement of air around her breast seemed to arouse it, and it became more rigid and vertical. He touched it, ever so lightly. Too much pressure, and she would wake. But he had to feel it with one sensitive fingertip.
He lifted his head to begin the next step. A few tugs at her shirt and her left breast was uncovered as well. He took a moment to gaze at Melissa, bare- breasted and sleeping. She was exquisitely beautiful, even with her lovely green eyes closed.
He looked at her legs, and noted that her skirt had rucked up to her thighs. He raised it even further to expose the apex of her 'V', and the panties which clothed it. So hot... so fucking hot...
He swooped on her nipple, his mouth open, closing his lips on it in a light, sucking embrace of a kiss. His eyes looked directly at hers, hoping that his attentions to her breast wouldn't wake her.
Still she slept.
Now Tom let himself go. He nursed on her nipple more boldly, and allowed his left hand to explore and fondle Melissa's naked right breast. He adjusted his position, bringing her near thigh between his legs, and slowly humped his aching erection against it while simultaneously exploiting his unfettered access to her chest.
Although he wasn't naked, and Melissa was unconscious, and despite the fact that he wasn't actually having intercourse with her, Tom felt this was the most sexually satisfying moment of his life. No one could top her, and no situation could top this, unless... unless he pulled down those panties and pushed his cock inside her! God, how he wanted to do that!
How he wanted to love and satisfy her! He wanted to inject his sperm in her, realizing that any such behaviour would wake her. She couldn't be penetrated and not be brought awake by it.
He nursed and suckled at her breast for a long time, never reaching sexual release but feeling quite comfortable and warm at her tit.
Gradually he was overcome by the weariness and pain that had gone before. Increasingly his body demanded sleep. He was so comfortable, so relaxed now. He closed his eyes after one more close inspection of Melissa's saliva-covered nipple. Then he slept.
*
Melissa stirred. Her eyes were still closed, but she gradually gained full consciousness. She remembered where she was, but was surprised at how strange she felt. She'd been having the most wonderful dream, in which she made love to John... had really good hot sex with him.
She could feel Tom's head on her upper body, and looked hard in that direction, trying to pierce the dim light.
"What!"
She had moved slightly and felt skin against her skin!
"What!!"
Shifting again, she looked along her body and saw Tom's cheek against her bare breast.
"What!"
What had he been up to? Her heart started to race, as adrenaline pumped through her veins. How should she react? What should, or even could she do? It was obvious that he'd been sucking her left nipple; it still had traces of his saliva. He must have drifted off in the middle. (It was funny.. He looked like a little boy as he slept, his cheek pressed against the mound of her breast.)
She was surprised that she wasn't as indignant as she thought she ought to be. The truth was that she had been turned on by the thought of Tom's behaviour.
She brushed a lock of hair from his face and looked at his lips, still resting against her left nipple. She reached down and, for some reason she couldn't have explained, put her hand inside Tom's shirt and stroked his chest and his left nipple, twirling a saliva-moistened index finger around the hardening organ.
Her earlier thought suddenly came into her mind: 'What would he be like?' She felt hot all of a sudden. She knew that her face was flushed. She realized that the situation was making her horny, but that it was neither the right time, nor the right person to be horny with.
Melissa started; her finger action had disturbed Tom's sleep, and he was beginning to fight his way back to consciousness. Her daydreams vanished as she realized that she was fondling a man whom she barely knew. She swiftly took her hand out from under his shirt, and lay back as if still sleeping, just as Tom began to move.
*
Tom realized that he'd been extraordinarily lucky. He had no idea how long he'd slept, but remembered that he had forgotten to readjust Melissa's clothing. Her beautiful naked breasts lay against against his cheek and within reach of his hand. Her bra had been pushed away to the side, and her skirt had ridden up to her waist.
If Melissa had woken up it would have been obvious to her that Tom had been making free with her, groping and fondling her, while she slept. She must have been asleep the whole time.
And here she was, still half naked, awaiting his touch. Earlier on Tom had felt that he would never get away with actual intercourse, but now that he'd got away with so much he wondered... could he? Could he take her panties down and penetrate her? Maybe, maybe, maybe... if he put his penis just inside, and didn't try to thrust right into her... Or if he could just have her cunt around his cock, and slowly move in and out of her, then maybe, just maybe, he could bring himself off without waking her.
His brain told him it was a crazy idea, but his lust for this previously unattainable beauty overpowered his common sense. Without another thought for possible consequences, he put his lips back on Melissa's engorged nipple. He returned his hand to the hallowed region under her skirt and slowly rubbed her pussy through her panties, watching keenly for any reaction.
Gaining confidence after a while, he sat up and undid his pants, then pulled them down. At once his cock sprang out, eager for pussy. He pulled up her skirt, using both hands; her panties came down quickly after that.
Tom took a moment to luxuriate at the sight of Melissa's naked cunt before mounting her. His intention was clear, his goal assured. He looked at Melissa. Her eyes were still closed.
*
Though Melissa knew Tom had grossly violated her privacy earlier, she was still surprised by this new onslaught. She kept her eyes closed, hoping he'd stop before going too far. Her emotions were in turmoil; she didn't know how, or even if, she wanted to stop his highly intimate groping.
As long as she pretended to be asleep, she wasn't forced to confront his - or her own - feelings. She could just lie there and let it happen. Moreover, she was enjoying his caresses, and his tonguing was a revelation.
A moment arrived when she sensed that Tom had stopped his heavy petting. His hand ceased to caress her streaming and swollen pussy lips, and his tongue no longer lapped at her nipples. She was wondering if she should start the process of 'waking up', when she felt his body come down on top of her.
Hysteria started to build up inside her. What could he mean to do? Then she felt it, Tom's hot slick cock positioning itself against her opening, and realized with a shock that he actually intended to fuck her.
'I can't let this happen,' she thought desperately. 'I never thought he'd go this far. I can't pretend any longer.'
*
Tom thrust surprisingly smoothly into her. She was tight, smooth, wet and warm, and he felt like a king. He moaned, smiling, looking down at the point of penetration. Then he looked back at Melissa's face. Her eyes were open, and they were wide with shock and surprise.
"What are you doing?! What are you doing to me?!" she shrieked.
He momentarily froze, his penis still deep inside her cunt. He'd been caught. But it wasn't a surprise.
"Stop it! Get off me!" she wailed.
Tom was fully awake, but no longer subject to normal social inhibitions. His appetite had taken complete control of his actions. His lust dictated his moves. He tightened his grip on her arms. Using his weight as a battering force, he drove into her. He just couldn't help himself; he was going to fuck her.
"Unnghh! Tom! Stop! Please stop!"
But Tom wasn't listening. He continued thrusting into her hot velvety wetness while she wriggled fiercely under him, panting in her efforts to dislodge him.
He was quite single-minded now; he had to come, to release his seed deep inside his sexy wonder woman. Of course he realized he was raping her, and that she'd probably bring charges against him. All that mattered, however, was that he was having her. He was thrusting into her wonderfully warm cunt, and loving it. All those memories, those precious, maddening, memories of tight tops, short skirts, captivating smiles, and heaving bosom were finally being satisfied.
He had wanted to fuck Melissa more than he had any other woman in the world. Now he was actually doing it.
Melissa was struggling desperately now. This couldn't be allowed to happen. She'd gone off the pill not two months ago; she and John were using alternative methods of birth control. She was terrified that Tom would make her pregnant. At the same time, though, she was enjoying this rough sex more any she'd had for a long time.
Tom had somehow lit a fire deep inside her. Her heart was in her throat, pounding through her brain, and she felt a little frightened that she might lose control of herself altogether. Part of her mind argued Tom's cause. She had feigned sleep while his hands roamed and groped over her body. She'd remained still as he explored her, touched her.
The present situation might even be regarded as her own fault. She need never have allowed it to get so far out of hand. "Tom, no... " Her voice needed strength to get through to him, but she found none. His body was still rocking above her. She was getting well and truly fucked, and she knew it. It was impossible to fend him off.
Tom's own conscience was telling him that his and Melissa's nakedness and what his hips were doing to her were not right. But his loins answered that she really wanted him to continue. He was fucking her, raping her, getting what he wanted; but his eyes were a little sad, and looked as though they might weep.
He suddenly saw the horror and shock on her face. "Melissa... Oh, Melissa..." he cried. His thrusting slowed, though it didn't stop. "I need to fuck you. I need to love you. Please forgive me, please!"
Almost out of breath, she whispered back: "Tom! You're raping me!"
"I know! Oh God, I know! I can't help it! Feeling you, seeing you, so close!"
"What?"
He collapsed on her breast, kissing her nipple. His hips stopped moving, though he hadn't ejaculated. Somehow he'd found the strength to control himself - but for how long? "I just... Oh, Melissa! I've wanted you for so long, so fucking long!"
He rested his head between her bare breasts, almost like a child with its mother, and lightly stroked her right breast and nipple.
Melissa didn't try to stop him.
"You're so beautiful. I worshipped you from the moment I saw you. Every day I hoped something would happen that would let me get to know you, so that we could be together. I never expected an earthquake! I just thought maybe you'd join me for coffee!" He gave a wry smile when he realized what he'd said.
Melissa laughed. It was just a squeak at first, but then burst from her lips.
He went on: "Now I'm here with you, where I can't even move without touching you. I know I shouldn't have done what I did, but I had to! You don't know it, but I was touching you earlier while you were unconscious, and also later, while you were sleeping. I thought touching would be enough for me, but it wasn't. I had to make love to you. I had to have sex with you."
"Tom..." she murmured, and their eyes met. "I wasn't asleep..."
His eyes widened as he gradually understood that she'd been awake all the time he was exploring her! She'd only pretended to be asleep while he had been intimately caressing her! Her hand slipped down between them to his waist and took hold of his penis.
Tom shifted to one side to give her more space and watched incredulously before closing his eyes as her smooth hand began moving up and down his cock.
*
The smell of him... Melissa loved the smell of a sexually aroused man. It was a special spermy smell she'd learned to love when younger, the smell of pre-cum, coating a man's beautiful sex organ. She felt Tom's velvety erection against her hand, which she closed over the pulsating shaft. The feeling... the slick cock head open to her touch. And mmmm, that wonderful smell...
He shivered as she massaged his prick. It was incredible that this fantastically beautiful woman was doing this for him. Contentment and wonder mingled when Melissa silently shifted her body upwards to kiss his mouth while continuing to jack his prick.
They kissed more passionately, and he almost jumped when she moved her hand onto his balls and began fondling them. He gave a low moan when she pulled out of their kiss, but groaned in relief when, a minute later, he felt her lips close over his organ.
*
Melissa's mind had been racing as fast as her pulse rate. If she followed her instincts, things would never be the same again. She could pull back now, and maybe stop all this. But as she pulled out of their kiss her hand was still moving on Tom's beautiful fat cock, and all she could think of was what it would taste like.
As if in a trance, she repositioned her body so that her lips could reach his love organ. (Yes, that's what she called it, always had, since her first experience in Junior High School, when she'd lost her virginity to an older boy. He'd called it that, and so had she, ever since.) Without any thought for John, or for anything but for the present moment, she touched Tom's purplish head with her tongue.
Melissa loved the cock smell; it was so manly. She loved the taste of him, the texture of his skin, the smooth feel of his cockhead-flange on her tongue.
She had to grip the base of Tom's shaft to control his thrusting hips. Bopping her tight lips up and down his swollen pole, thoughts raged through her. WHAT WAS SHE DOING?! And what would Tom think of her if they came out of this alive?
John... John... But, God, this man tasted good! She wanted to make love to him in the worst possible way.
Tom was whimpering softly. He was rapidly approaching orgasm, and it stripped from him the ability to form words or even to think them. Melissa was sucking his dick! Her soft wet lips were sucking his cock! He couldn't believe it! The earthquake, which had trapped them in this elevator, was indeed a terrible thing - for everyone else. For him, however, it had been an erotic dream come true. God, she was good!
The unpredictable motions of her hands and lips. The scent of her hair as it bobbed around his hips. Lack of space had forced them into an almost sixty-nine position.
Melissa's skirt had ridden up her thighs again, and the jostling fabric failed to conceal the rhythmical clenching of her buttocks as she worked on his penis. Her naked breasts were pressed against his stomach... Everything... everything was so hot... so incredible. Every sight, every suck of her lips, every swirl of her tongue...
Tom was close to the edge; the pleasure he was receiving from Melissa would soon take him over. It was only a matter of seconds before he whould shoot his seed through those wondrous lips, down that moist grasping throat.
"Melissa..." he gasped, "I want to come inside you; come in your pussy... please!" She didn't answer; just kept on sucking his cock.
There was no birth control, no protection. She decided to bring him to orgasm, but in the safest way possible.
Tom clenched his hands, luxuriating in the tight wet sucking, in the sight of lips moving, stretching, around his cock's girth.
Her eyes rolled to the side, straining to see him and the pleasure she hoped she was bringing him. He started breathing Melissa's name, his breath shortening as the jolts of pleasure her lips gave his penis somehow made the shaft fall out of his consciousness.
There was just a ticklish, explosive sensation at the tip of his cock, and the stream of pleasure emanating from his loins spread to the rest of his body. It was as if his flesh wasn't there. There was just Melissa, her lips and mouth, and ecstasy.
He flexed his penis in her mouth, like a runner before a long jump, and felt his pent-up load of sperm explode from his cock. He felt his organ was being torn apart, and yet he wouldn't have stopped it for the world.
"Ohh! Ohh, Melissa!" He shouted her name as if his orgasm depended on it. Every sense and thought was focused on the lovely nude woman whose face was between his legs, sucking and delighting his cock, and gulping down the sperm that overflowed her mouth. He could hear her soft gulps, and opened his eyes to see a trickle of sperm oozing from the corner of her beautiful mouth.
A tremendous load had been generated in her honor and had backed up in his testicles. The resulting tidal wave of spunk streaked her face and reached as far as her breasts. Tom met her hand and spread the white semen over her breast flesh and nipples.
Melissa swallowed what remained in her mouth, and smiled at him. "Did you like that?" she asked.
"Oh yes! Oh god, yes!"
"Good" she giggled, "but don't tell my boyfriend." She squidged herself round, bringing her face up to Tom's.
They kissed, and he didn't mind at all that his sperm still coated her lips. She smoothed her hand over his chest, and he did the same for her. His penis hadn't totally deflated and he moved his hips on to hers, pressing lightly between her legs with the spermy tip as if asking permission to enter.
Melissa looked down at the bulbous cock which was poking, prodding and nudging her to accept it. Should she let him in? He'd already penetrated her without actually coming. But now he wanted to fuck her. And she wanted him to do it.
She looked into Tom's eyes and kissed him lovingly. "Fuck me," she breathed, "but don't tell my boyfriend."
He pulled her onto him, enjoying the slow penetration as if he were entering her for the first time. Melissa caught her breath, letting it out slowly as Tom's fully re-hardened cock tested the limits of her interior space. He was big, and it felt great. After a few minutes Tom adjusted their bodies so that he was now on top of Melissa.
He raised his ass to see how high it could go without hitting an obstacle. She helped him to position his prick against her hole, then he drove in with maximum force.
Melissa screamed out his name. He pulled out, then drove in hard once more. "Ohh! Ohh!" Now he felt no doubts, and, pulling out, waited for Melissa to impale herself on him. Her sparkling eyes burned as she yanked her lover back inside her by his hips.
"Fuck me! Fuck me!"
He began humping wildly, his rampant penis plunging again and again into her pussy at terrific speed. Melissa released Tom's hips, pulling, instead, at her hair as she tried to release her own ecstasy. His plunging movements were jerking her like a rag doll, making her breasts swing in a ninety-degree arc, and creating deeply satisfactory, full penetrations.
Each thrust felt as if it was made by a hot velvet dagger. Never before had she been so aware of a man's penis inside her, filling her out and stretching her. She screamed uncontrollably, crying out in tones she couldn't control. At that moment his cock was everything; it was life itself.
Instead of struggling, as she had done earlier, she was helping him to penetrate even deeper. As he thrust she raised her hips to meet him, and ohhhh - the feeling was exquisite, like nothing she'd felt before.
She became lost in her bodily sensations, in the feel of Tom's body, in lustful frenzy, as they seemed to become a single sexual organism. The fire rose first in her inner thighs; then the draining, numbing, tingling feeling rose up her legs to the center of her pelvis and into every nook and crevice of her sex organs.
Melissa screamed again as her orgasm rushed in waves through her swollen and sensitive cunt as Tom continued thrusting into her, and from deep in her belly a current flowed to every brain cell, through her every nerve ending. Her body tensed in spasm after spasm as if she was being electrocuted, and she clasped the pulsing erection tightly between her thighs...
She groaned when she felt Tom's hot seed gushing deep inside her. Yes... Yes... she admitted to herself. She'd wanted this as much as he had done. She'd longed for his cock to enter her just as much as he had longed for the same. Not just today, but even before today, in the elevator, in the hallway, in the bedroom. She had wanted this man to become her lover, and now he was. Melissa rejoiced with each gush of sperm. The hot liquid coated the inside of her cunt walls and trickled across the inner regions of her sex.
Tom was groaning, in a voice both low and powerful. Its waves seemed to reinforce his penis thrusts, tickling her deep inside and stimulating her sensitive sex organs. He continued to pound away, and she thought she could feel his penis flare each time it reached the apex of its penetration.
As he held his erection inside her, she could feel more gouts of sperm gushing into her cunt. His hands squeezed her shoulders, then her breasts, as if they might yield a new supply of sperm.
At last he fell forward onto her, and only the sounds of their breathing and the scents arising out of their sexual activity continued to disturb the air. Now, at last, they could fall asleep together.
Neither was concerned about rescue. Before they fell into sated slumber, Melissa kissed and nibbled at Tom's ear, whispering: "I think we'd better tell my boyfriend..."
I´m afraid that I feel strongly against this kind of story,as it normalises sexual abuse. So i can not upvote this one,although I otherwise upvote your stuff. I do not believe that the fact that it´s fiction and not reality is enough to justify it.
This is exactly what made me uneasy, too. (Don't worry about the voting; it's the discussion I am interested in in this case ;) ).
So the question is: What moral standards does literature (or, more generally, art) need to uphold? Is it acceptable for the "villain" to win in a novel? Is it acceptable for a painting to show rape without the painter making his opposition to it clear? And if not, how does s/he need to make it clear?
I feel two gut instincts running against each other: an instinct for completely free expression, and an instinct for suppressing writing that describes the unacceptable in a neutral-ish way.
How do you feel about that?
My opinion is that completely free expression in fictionshould be legal,even if I find it morally objectionable. Freedom of speech does not remove your moral responsibility.I support freedom of speech of course,but I also support it not being absolute,as is the case now. A call for genocide should not be legal,for instance.
To mee it seems clear,that in fiction,the author has to show at least some kind of reflection around an objectionable act,or a clear stance. Otherwise you will easily endorse for example abuse,discrimination,etc.
Another issue altogether is when the author does not see the problem.For instance a lot of sexists and racists are unaware that this is what they are.And their writings will reflect this fact.
Yes, the distinction between morality and legality is important and useful, despite the fact that it is still blurred because laws are ultimately also rooted in moral stances.
In this particular story, the non-consensual parts are highlighted as wrong - but, and this is where my uncomfortableness lies - the story says that the outcome is still a happy one for both parties. That is indeed a murky area. Using a non-sexual analogy, it is like justifying a bloody military coup by saying that the new regime did a much better job in running the country and so everyone was happy.
Interesting how an erotic story can raise some pretty subtle as well as fundamental issues way beyond sexuality.
(Hmmm, in my introductory post I promised to "lighten up" Steemit. I am not sure I am quite succeeding here ... :D )
No problem! Maybe the next story could be a happy consensual polyamorous group sex story? :)
Polyamorous group sex story? Now there is a suggestion I quite like ... I'll look out for one ;)
I started following you and see if I am interested . Saw a comment on some post . Will read a few of your posts later .