Emily
Johnson liked to play her part.
Running over the day in her mind, stroking her ego with the
high points, Emily arrived at the elevator, called it and waited.
It took several minutes before it came to the top floor, which was
longer than normal. Given the lateness of the hour and the empty
office, that should have come as a surprise to her, but Emily was
too distracted with her self-congratulation to register the fact.
Nor was she overly concerned when the elevator finally arrived and
the doors opened to reveal a well built young man with dark sultry
features. As was her want, Emily threw him a look that was verging
on the scathing, making quick assessments that would prove to be
hideously wrong.
She didn’t recognise him as a person. But that was no surprise
as Emily rarely ventured out of the top floor to cross paths with
the rank and file below. First impressions suggested that there was
nothing unusual about this stranger to raise any alarm. He was
dressed in a functional dark grey suit, white shirt with cufflinks
that could have been real gold, and a white-on-blue polka dot tie
that wasn’t passing as silk. All in all, it was the uniform of
business, similar to all the other men around the office, so he was
indistinguishable from the hoards who worked for the
firm.
Yet one thing was unusual – he was there in the elevator. He
had purposely taken it up when common sense dictated that he should
have waited for it to go down. But this anomaly didn’t register in
the brain of Emily Johnson, at least not until she had got in and
the doors closed behind her.
Was that her first mistake? Or was that her first knowing step
on the path she would take – a path to debasement and the filthiest
sex imaginable? Flick the coin – for who can possibly say. But
Emily got in alone with this man.
Whoosh!
That was the sound of the doors, quickly followed by the sound
of Emily’s blood as she experienced an immediate adrenalin rush -
the flavour of danger that heightens the senses and makes the heart
beat faster. She could smell the musk that was natural, not bought
- and taste the energy that frazzled in the air. And there was
something else that Emily was aware of – some intuitive sixth sense
coming into play, detecting a stare that burned her body. She had
elected to stand at the front of the elevator with her back to the
man, and Emily could feel his eyes looking through her fashionable
designer clothes: she felt them on her back where her ash-blonde
hair fell; she felt them on her legs – bare calves and covered
thighs; and most of all she felt them on her ass – that fabulous
booty that took the body prize, and was presented so beautifully by
its owner.
Suddenly Emily was very self-conscious about the tightness of
her skirt, and the fact that the jacket only fell to her waist so
that her incredible shapely rump was being shown to best effect. It
was the look that she’d wanted – Emily was mightily proud of her
derriere, and dressed for it to be admired - but being alone in the
elevator with an unknown man gave her cause to wonder if perhaps
the skirt was a little too provocative.
A little too provocative! It was like a red flag to a bull. But then
Emily Johnson wasn’t the type of woman that many men dare charge
with a threatening horn – at least not in the safe environment of
her workplace. There are always exceptions, however, as Emily was
about to find out...
The top floor of the office block was twenty stories up, so it
was a long ride down to the lobby. As the numbers started falling
from twenty through the teens, Emily felt increasingly awkward at
being alone in the elevator with this musky scented stranger and
his burning eyes - who now, that she thought about it, had no
business coming up to the top floor, other than to accompany the
person who had called for the elevator all the way back down.
Accompany Emily to be precise!
To ease her tension and pass the time, Emily busied herself
with her
Johnson liked to play her part.
Running over the day in her mind, stroking her ego with the
high points, Emily arrived at the elevator, called it and waited.
It took several minutes before it came to the top floor, which was
longer than normal. Given the lateness of the hour and the empty
office, that should have come as a surprise to her, but Emily was
too distracted with her self-congratulation to register the fact.
Nor was she overly concerned when the elevator finally arrived and
the doors opened to reveal a well built young man with dark sultry
features. As was her want, Emily threw him a look that was verging
on the scathing, making quick assessments that would prove to be
hideously wrong.
She didn’t recognise him as a person. But that was no surprise
as Emily rarely ventured out of the top floor to cross paths with
the rank and file below. First impressions suggested that there was
nothing unusual about this stranger to raise any alarm. He was
dressed in a functional dark grey suit, white shirt with cufflinks
that could have been real gold, and a white-on-blue polka dot tie
that wasn’t passing as silk. All in all, it was the uniform of
business, similar to all the other men around the office, so he was
indistinguishable from the hoards who worked for the
firm.
Yet one thing was unusual – he was there in the elevator. He
had purposely taken it up when common sense dictated that he should
have waited for it to go down. But this anomaly didn’t register in
the brain of Emily Johnson, at least not until she had got in and
the doors closed behind her.
Was that her first mistake? Or was that her first knowing step
on the path she would take – a path to debasement and the filthiest
sex imaginable? Flick the coin – for who can possibly say. But
Emily got in alone with this man.
Whoosh!
That was the sound of the doors, quickly followed by the sound
of Emily’s blood as she experienced an immediate adrenalin rush -
the flavour of danger that heightens the senses and makes the heart
beat faster. She could smell the musk that was natural, not bought
- and taste the energy that frazzled in the air. And there was
something else that Emily was aware of – some intuitive sixth sense
coming into play, detecting a stare that burned her body. She had
elected to stand at the front of the elevator with her back to the
man, and Emily could feel his eyes looking through her fashionable
designer clothes: she felt them on her back where her ash-blonde
hair fell; she felt them on her legs – bare calves and covered
thighs; and most of all she felt them on her ass – that fabulous
booty that took the body prize, and was presented so beautifully by
its owner.
Suddenly Emily was very self-conscious about the tightness of
her skirt, and the fact that the jacket only fell to her waist so
that her incredible shapely rump was being shown to best effect. It
was the look that she’d wanted – Emily was mightily proud of her
derriere, and dressed for it to be admired - but being alone in the
elevator with an unknown man gave her cause to wonder if perhaps
the skirt was a little too provocative.
A little too provocative! It was like a red flag to a bull. But then
Emily Johnson wasn’t the type of woman that many men dare charge
with a threatening horn – at least not in the safe environment of
her workplace. There are always exceptions, however, as Emily was
about to find out...
The top floor of the office block was twenty stories up, so it
was a long ride down to the lobby. As the numbers started falling
from twenty through the teens, Emily felt increasingly awkward at
being alone in the elevator with this musky scented stranger and
his burning eyes - who now, that she thought about it, had no
business coming up to the top floor, other than to accompany the
person who had called for the elevator all the way back down.
Accompany Emily to be precise!
To ease her tension and pass the time, Emily busied herself
with her
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