Stuck!




STUCK !
by
Rachel Cray

Copyright Rachel Cray 2011, 2013


Margaret and I worked at a city law office; I had known her for nearly five years, and had secretly wanted to screw her for at least four.
My opportunity finally arrived one Saturday afternoon, when we were at work, binding some newly-printed books.  Some of the pages bore tabs, indicating where they had to be signed by our clients and representatives of their bank, who were coming into the office the next day.  Then, on Monday, there would be a major press release concerning the multi-billion dollar deal to which these documents related.  The deal had only been thrashed out at the eleventh hour, and there had been a rush of activity to meet the Monday morning deadline.
By 5 p.m. that Saturday, we were nearly finished.  It had been decided, for the sake of security, to store these bound books in our basement overnight. 
Accordingly, Margaret and I took the first ten heavy volumes in a cardboard box down in the lift.  Normally one person could have done the job, but Margaret knew the combination to get through the security door and I didn't; being the only guy on the shift, I was there to provide the muscle for the task. Everyone else had just left the building to go home; once Margaret and I had finished, we would be straight out of the door too.
We moved the box out of the lift and found two suitable spaces in the basement area - one space for this box and one for the other one, which I would bring down next.  Then we got back to the lift; Margaret pressed the appropriate button, the door closed and we started our ascent.
Then it stopped.  We could only have been one or two feet up from the basement floor level.
There was an emergency telephone in the control panel.  I picked up the receiver, pressed the "Call" button and waited.  There was no reply.  I looked at Margaret.  "He could be on a meal break, maybe," I suggested.
She said nothing.
I continued waiting, the receiver still in my hand.  The telephone was a direct link with the maintenance company; we were unable to call other numbers on the device.  I put the phone back on its cradle.  I'd have to try Plan "B".  I squeezed my fingers in the crack of the doors and tried pulling them apart.  I had my foot ready to hold the doors open if I were successful.
"Ben, be careful.  You could break your hands doing that."
I kept trying to open the doors, but without success.  I turned round to Margaret.  "My mobile phone is upstairs.  And I imagine yours is in your handbag."
She nodded.
"Is anyone expecting you home soon?"
"No," she answered.  "I didn't make plans, because I didn't know when we would be finished.  And the girl that I share my house with is away this weekend."
"And I live alone, and nobody's expecting to see me until I start work on Monday morning."
"What are we going to do?"
I knew what I wanted to do with her.  But I would have to be patient.  And, in view of our predicament, I didn’t want her to start getting hysterical.  “I’ll try ringing again”.  I picked up the telephone again, and waited.  There was still no response.
Margaret looked serious but seemed relaxed.
“There’s no reason to panic,” I said.  “If we keep trying on the phone, someone is bound to answer pretty soon.”
“We might be stuck here until tomorrow, when the others come back to sign the documents.  We’ll be cold and starving.  I’ll have gone mad by then.”
“No.  Come on, Margaret.  We’re in this together... literally.  I’ll make sure you won’t go mad.”
“Is that some kind of joke?”
“Of course not.  Look, how well do we know each other?  You’ve known me a hell of a long time.”  It was true.  But whenever we had been out at social functions, it had always been as members of a group with other people from the firm.  We had never gone out together.  I guess I had been just a little too timid to ask – thinking of the humiliation if she had turned me down.  I wasn’t like that with all women.  Margaret was different; she was my boss.
“So what you’re telling me is that I can trust you.”
“I hope you’ve always trusted me.”
“In situations like this, I mean.  You’re not going to take advantage of me.”
“Because I’m a guy, and you’re a girl?  I’ve heard of some women who would be downright disappointed if they were stuck in a lift with a guy, and he didn’t take advantage of the situation.  And not just disappointed.  Downright insulted, maybe.”
“You’re flattering yourself, aren’t you?”
“No.  I’m not saying that about me.  I’m just generalizing.”  I felt this conversation was going nowhere.  I picked up the phone and tried again.  But there was still no answer.
“I suppose there are a few positives about our environment.  We have electric light.  The elevator is only a few inches above the ground, so we couldn’t fall any lower and get ourselves killed.”
“And there’s room enough for us to move around in,” I added.  “There’s room for up to eight people in here.  So we can spread ourselves out.  If I’d known this was going to happen, I’d have brought a couple of armchairs in.”
She smiled.
“It’s not that bad, Margaret.  We’ll be OK.”  I clasped her hand, and she didn’t snatch it away.  “Any other time, I’d have been really pleased at the prospect of being alone with you for an hour or more.”
“What do you mean?”  She pulled her hand away from mine.
“Do I have to spell it out for you?”
She looked at me quizzically.
“Margaret, I fancy you.  I’ve fancied you for a hell of a long time.”
“Really?  You never said.”
“Well, I always got the impression that you’d never give me a second look, and I’d be wasting my time.  You’re my boss, after all.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Ben.  You’re a really attractive guy.  If I had known that you felt that way... well, I wouldn’t have rejected you out of hand if you’d approached me.”
“And when we first met, you were engaged.”
“Yeah, but that didn’t last long.”
“Am I allowed to ask why you split with him?”
“He had a very low sex drive.  But don’t you dare go shouting that round the firm.  That’s privileged information.  Confidential.  You understand?”
“I promise.  And I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you.”
“It was for the best.”
And I realised it was time for me to be crazy and ask for it.  If I didn’t do it now, I’d never get anywhere.  “Margaret, can I ask you another very personal question?  And when we get out of here, will you promise never to tell anyone that I asked?”
She looked at me closely.  “Go ahead.”
“Margaret, can I go down on you?  Here?  Now?”
She froze.
Oh, shit, I’ve really done it now, I thought.
“All right, then.”  She pulled down her jeans and underwear and took one step out of them.  As I knelt down in front of her, she leaned against the wall with her legs apart.
She didn’t have too many hairs round her pussy; the lips were slightly open, and my tongue quickly invaded her to caress her warm clit.  I felt one of her hands holding my head, her long fingernails rustling slowly through my hair.  My hands moved unconsciously to caress the soft cheeks of her butt.  I looked up quickly and saw her other hand underneath her top, massaging her nipple.
“Mmm, that feels good,” she said.  “Keep going.  Don’t stop.”
Gradually, I felt her clit harden and her pussy moisten.  At the same time, I felt my dick get excited; it was pressing against my pants as it became more erect, seeking a passage to grow further upwards.  Whatever happened, I didn’t want the friction against my pants to force it into an orgasm.  I hadn’t had a premature ejaculation in years, and I didn’t want to have one now.
Margaret began breathing more loudly.  I moved one of my fingers into the threshold of her asshole.  “That’s good.  God, this is good,” she whispered.
I didn’t want to take my hands away from her ass.  But I had to adjust my pants to accommodate my growing cock.
She must have looked down and seen what I was doing.  “Hey, you’re not jerking off down there, are you?”
“No.  Just getting my cock comfortable.”  And I returned my attention to her clit.
“OK.  When I’m done here, we’ll try one more time with the phone, and then I’ll give you a hand job.”
My cock shuddered at that promise, and I suddenly became more animated in sucking her genital area.  By now my finger was deep in her asshole, and two fingers from my other hand had moved forward to the entrance of her vagina.
She was thrusting her hips wildly at my face now.  Her time must be near.  Thank you, Lift, for getting stuck.  Thank you, thank you...
My chin was now soaked with her love juice and my saliva.  I was compelled to continue until her final--
She grunted suddenly, and then yelled like a wild animal.  She pushed her hips firmly against my face as her orgasm continued, her juices continuing to drip down my chin.
It was all over.  Margaret pulled herself away.  I stood up, wiping my face.
She picked up the phone, pressed the alarm button, and waited for a full minute.  There was no reply.  “Right, Ben,” she said.  “Now for your hand job.”
I pulled my pants down; my proud cock stuck out at right angles towards her.
“While I do this for you, you’ve got to massage my clit again.  OK?”
I faced her and she took my dick in her hand while I began to stroke her wet pussy.  Moving slightly to one side, I started rubbing my balls against her soft thigh; I shouldn’t have done this, as it made me even more excited, and I wanted this to last for ever.  Our faces were close and our cheeks touched and rubbed against each other.
She turned to me and our lips met in a long, lingering kiss.  Her mouth tasted so sweet, and our tongues caressed.  My free hand held her neck, and we pressed our hips forward and back in time together.  There seemed to be more urgency now; she had already had one climax, and her second one might come sooner.  I hoped that my come would happen after hers.  I wanted the full experience, as I could not be certain that I could ever have sex with Margaret again.
My finger moved down briefly to explore her wet hole, rubbing her G-spot before returning to her clit.
“We’ll have to do this more often,” she whispered.  “You have hidden talents.”
“Anything you say, boss.”
“Don’t spoil it.  Can you go faster down there?”
I massaged her clit harder and faster.  I felt fingers from her other hand reach down and trace lightly over my balls. “I’m going to come...” I whispered.
“Not yet.  Give me a minute.  Just a minute...”  And then she groaned again, pressing her cheek hard against mine, as she reached her climax.
Instinctively, I had to move my hand down to hold my dick tight and jerk it as I ejaculated.  I groaned.  She moved her hand to catch my semen, and it squirted into her palm.   
“Ooh, that’s good.  That’s very good,” she said as she looked down to watch me come.
Exhausted, I leaned against wall and looked at her.  “Thank you, Margaret.  That really was terrific.”
“You were great.  You know that?”  She wiped her hand on a tissue from her pocket.  Then she pulled up her pants.
I got myself dressed too, and then picked up the phone and pressed the connection button.
“Hello.  Emergency contact.  Can I help you?”
Shit, I thought.  I gave our location and explained that the lift had broken down. 
“OK.  I’ll have someone round in the next 40 minutes.  Hang in there!”
He cut off the connection before I had time to ask why he hadn’t responded earlier.  But, on reflection, I was grateful that he hadn’t answered.
“He says he’ll have an engineer round in 40 minutes.”
 “Right,” she said.  “Do you think that gives us enough time to do it again?”

THE END


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