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..."
*
Acknowledgments: All my thanks to Ian for doing such a
good job editing our story.
© 1997 Storysman & Kristen Kathleen Becker
This work is copyrighted to the author.
Please do not remove the author information or make
any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of
commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
