Velvet III

-“Sorry, I can’t get a signal on my cell phone.

Please calm down; it will only be a little while before the doors are opened. My name is George by the way, what is yours?” He says in an attempt to distract her from her rising panic.

In response Beatriz then sliders to the floor with her back against the wall. Folding into a fetus position she bursts out crying inconsolably.

George gathers Beatriz’ discarded blouse and coat, and squatting close to her improvises a pillow and coverlet for her.

This close proximity creates a sense of instant intimacy. His kindness, emanating strength, and scent, send her senses reeling. Without analyzing her actions, inhibitions or repercussions Beatriz pulls on George’s tie, and kisses him.

Losing his balance to topple over Beatriz, George responds to the kiss, if only to placate her fear.

The initially sweet, panic-laced kiss morphed into a passion fest. This passion is fueled by her acute need for comfort, and also because as she keeps her eyes closed, she imagines in the dark of her mind that the lips and hands roaming freely inside of her bra belong to another.

These warm and inquisitive hands emit a similar electrical current, creating goose bumps down her arms.
Her body and mind respond in kind, creating urgency for release and obliterating the panic of her enclosed space for the time being as she focuses solely on the sensual tide.

Eventually breaking their kiss, to travel lower to kiss down her neck and yet lower still to bathe her erect nipples with his gyrating tongue, George speaks: -“We should get up off the floor. I don’t want to crush you.”

-“Don’t say anything! I don’t want to move, just please don’t say another word, I have a big headache, and you brake up my concentration.” Beatriz reacted.

Instead of waiting for a reply, Beatriz kisses him once more and losses herself in the sensual fantasy she weaves as she goes along.

Taking hold of George’s right hand, she guides it to rest between her legs.

Releasing his hand, she uses her fingernails to rip her pantyhose at the juncture of her open thighs.

In reciprocal gesture of courtesy, Beatriz rubs him through his trousers, but does not dare to release him, as she focuses selfishly on her own pleasure.

His dexterous fingers find her sticky wet, warm, and velvety, as those quickly bring her over the edge.

Inserting his index finger into his mouth, George tastes her essence. Without saying a word he stands up, and then pulls her up by the arms and slams her against the wall on the corner of the elevator.

They initiate their passionate kissing once more, this time there is a subtle musky flavor savored in the saliva mix. George’s hand squeezes her right breast, as his right hand drapes her left leg to rest on the hand bar of the elevator.

Collecting her discarded coat and blouse off the floor, he drops those in front of Beatriz. He kisses her once more passionately and with uncommon force rips her minute panties at the crotch.

Paying passing homage to her breasts he suckles those as he kneels down to the floor where there is not a shred of modesty nor barrier.

The titillating shock of his pliant tongue on her core sends Beatriz over the edge almost immediately. George’s head covered by the umbrella of her skirt emits guttural, primate sounds as he laps with rabid hunger, as avidly as a canine.

Beatriz’ third climax was on the cusp, when the elevator doors are suddenly opened.

Beatriz bit her hand to avoid emitting any sounds. Although the flush that crept on her face and tremors that shook her frame, was evidence enough to the maintenance crew that she had arrived at her destination.



-“By the way, my name is Beatriz.” She said as she kissed George on the cheek and slipped him her number and walked away.




To be continued…