ELEVATOR ENCOUNTER
CHAPTER TWO
…the initial view of the sole figure in the 27th floor lobby is instantly beyond Brian’s ability to process. It is female, of that there is absolutely no doubt, but her height rivals, or exceeds, that of any other in his memory. A shimmering silver and gold cape flows down her towering form like a fountain of shimmering liquid metals, starting at a clasp at her neck, continuing over what appears to be broad shoulders and outward to the precipice of an unseen, but quite obviously enormous, bosom; downward, downward to end in a rippling hem at her ankles.
She slowly moves forward, as if levitating like an angel, yet the sharp crack of spiked heels on the marble flooring indicates she is not ethereal but assuredly grounded and real. Her head elevates and he gazes upon a killer gorgeous beauty. Stunned by the magnificence, Brian mindlessly stares at a classical pear-shaped face, with smooth, flawless complexion which is tanned to a deep, rich bronzed tone. Framing this pristine loveliness are luxurious waves of platinum tresses that stream out stylishly as if perfectly kept yet wild and windblown at the same time. Her full, lush lips are frosted in subtle, sparkling pink and delicately outlined in ebony. Now, just a short distance away, her eyes entirely captivate Brian. He feels as if he is melting into a pair of bottomless azure pools surrounded by pure white beaches edged with the overhanging frowns of long, swooping lashes. Her orbs; their size, their depth, their intensity are simply beyond bewitching.
She enters the elevator; her presence completely overwhelming the space and the dumbstruck male within it. The resounding staccato blasts of platforms and heels on the elevator’s stainless steel floor reverberate off the hard surfaces and mix with the distinct, jangling sound of spurs. Her elegant aroma enters as well, wafting through the air and into his nostrils. Brian is seared with nearly-crippling lust, a sensation he’s enjoyed numerous times before, but right now all other occasions pale in comparison. Pivoting in the confines of the cab, her cape swirls around casting light beams everywhere and gently brushing against Brian’s slacks. She now stands in the very center of the cab, not a foot away from him, as if he didn’t exist. She is at least eight or ten inches taller than his six-foot height and his minds-eye flashes on what must be towering heels upon which she is perched. Looking at her in profile is scintillating; in the back a billowing blonde mane cascades to where he envisions the top shelf of her ass to be, and in the front the enormity of her breasts is even more dramatic at this close distance. Brian senses his entire being igniting with desire, deep and primal. He also recognizes the immediate, eerie silence as immediate, paralyzing panic swells up in him. What is he to do? How is he to respond to this glorious vision?
‘Sszz’—the doors suddenly begin to slide closed, startling him from his stupor. With the slightest of lurching motions the elevator again starts its descent, and only to Brian’s level. She could reach ahead if she wished and push a button like most of the other decisive personalities who ride this elevator would do. However, she makes no move to do so, apparently expecting Brian to respond. He does instinctively. He finds himself blurting out, “Floor, Ms?” As the words escape his mouth he realizes that what seems like politeness is actually desperation, and sounds so to his ears. “YOURS, DARLING,” is the reply, her voice low and deliciously sultry. Brian swallows, processing the totally unexpected endearment. Is it how she views elderly men? Or is it a taunt? Or a come-on? His gaze darts to the floor indicator as it counts down, and again he’s compelled to blurt, “Working late?” “NO, DARLING,” She chuckles softly, turning her head to give him a downward and sideward glance, before adding in a decidedly more provocative tone, “PLAYING.” Her hypnotic eyes sparkle with mischief causing him to gasp slightly from their brilliance and take-in more of her fabulous fragrance. Brian has experienced many perfumes in his years, but nothing quite as intoxicating as this. His brain is swirling, unable to focus. He is speechless as the chime dings softly, the cab giving a nearly imperceptible bounce as it stops. A scant moment later the doors slide apart to reveal the parking garage, the subterranean concrete stratum that houses the autos of execs. In the harsh light it’s quite evident that the space is virtually empty. Brian ever so briefly notices the outline of his Rolls, his gaze darting around to catch a glimpse of another vehicle, her vehicle. He spots none before the bewitching amazon moves forward, filling the entry with the glistening wonder of her flowing cape and the luxurious volume of her white-gold tresses. Her stride is precise, yet elegantly exaggerated as the sound of steel surfaces on the hard slab floor echoes loudly. Brian is frozen, motionless watching the rhythmic swaying of her gait. Even in the confines of the metallic drape he can see her hips alternately thrusting first one way and then the other. With each measured step the back of her boots flash like a lighthouse beacon, the sight of the towering slender shaft of the stiletto and the upturned extension of the spur sending shivers of desire through Brian. He must follow, he must engage, he must not, cannot, will not lose this unbelievable opportunity.
He staggers forward, seeing that she is heading directly towards his parked vehicle. What is happening, what is he to do? Again his emotions speak for him, “Ride?” he calls out, his word reverberating in the cavernous space. He instantly continues, trying to clarify, “Do, you, ah, need ah, a ride?” She slows, taking a smaller step, then stops abruptly. Brian stumbles up, just as she pivots, cape splaying open enough for him to catch a fleeting view of within. Her boots are crotch-high and entirely silver, with laces and jewels and oh, Gawd he lets out a moan that is most certainly audible. Seemingly she ignores his pitiful noise and purrs, “CUTE CAR,” tipping her head ever so delicately and nodding in the direction of his stately Silver Shadow. Before he can collect himself, he sees her right arm emerge and move outward. He follows its motion, a full-length sleeve of shiny black latex is what he first sees, realizing in a flash that instead it is a full-length glove which sheathes the long and shapely limb. At her wrist is a stunning piece of jewelry, a shimmering silver bracelet which is, at once, elegantly fashionable yet nasty. The broad contemporary band sports rows of diamond sets alternating with rows of projecting spikes. He stares in wonder hearing her velvety voice, “THIS ONE IS MINE.” A muffled mechanical sound comes from beyond his car and the shape of a blood red door pivots up into view. Brian tears his eyes away from the glamorous female to focus on the low-slung contours of a super car. Immediately he recognizes the lines of a Lamborghini, but it doesn’t register for a second which model this might be until he sees the slope of the aerodynamic hood and the aggressive side air scoops. Brian is keen on cars and is positive that this is one of the limited-production, racing-edition Aventadors, crafted on a custom basis for a select clientele. “Whoa,” he exhales in awe, both at the million dollar vehicle and the improbability of this lady actually owning such an exotic machine.
Turning She continues to walk, Her waist-length mane swinging enticingly from side to side. He sees her left arm move out as is her right, both flung wide causing the cape to gather in layers down Her back. He again feels a debilitating surge of lust shoot through his body ending in the very depths of his groin. For a fleeting second he tells himself that this is HER, this is the one. How this fantasy scenario is unfolding is way beyond his ability to comprehend. He has no time to think, to consider the odds of this being a chance meeting. He simply knows that She is a knockout. “COME, DARLING,” he hears Her toss back over Her shoulder as She rounds the front of the Lambo. A snap of Her fingers accompanies Her request, well in fact Her command. Brian is lost in his sexual craving, and follows. Awkwardly he halts behind this soaring, young siren, observing that Her arms are raised up to the level of Her neck. On either side of the gathered silver and gold train project shapely curving hips and the hint of a finely tapered torso that instantly recalls the form of a bodybuilder. No thoughts are generated in his mind, nothing rational, other than the all-consuming desire to be in the presence of this goddess forever.
“TAKE MY WRAP,” She instructs, and the liquid metal suddenly flows downward gaining velocity as it descends. Brian reacts with lightning speed to the softly swishing sound, lunging forward to catch the garment at thigh-level. He makes a scooping movement attempting to keep it from falling to the pavement and in the process collapsing to his knees with a thud. “Uhh,” he grunts from the effort, his gaze suddenly, deliciously taking in the upper reaches of a pair of quite fantastic booted legs. The skin is smooth, dark and sun-drenched in contrast to the sparkling surfaces of silver leather just below. Yet hovering just above and a scant few inches away from his face are the twin matching undersides of absolutely perfect ass globes; their tight, curvaceous hemispheres coated in thin elastic rubber. His life’s longing to be in this position with a goddess like this one boils in the flesh of his loins. He grits his teeth; then closes his eyes trying with all his might to resist the extraordinary temptation presented. Kissing Her magnificent rear would most assuredly be heaven. “UMM, GOOD BOY,” he hears from above, the condescending tone of Her voice sending a warm, submissive charge into his genitals. ‘i am HER slave’ his mind screams, ‘i will do anything, ANYTHING for Her.’ SHE moves and he flicks open his eyes to see the skin-fit black bodysuit slithering downward and gracefully into the driver’s bucket seat. Now he is eye- level with HER breasts and he cannot stifle another pathetic groaning sound. Each is an enormous mass, obviously enhanced yet pristinely proportioned to HER expansive upper torso. Curving skyward to an unbelievably majestic pinnacle, the stretched taut latex proudly displays huge mouthwatering nipples etched into the high-glossed material. As his gaze wanders to the depths of the succulent cleavage between these awesome mountains, surprisingly one of HER fetish boots suddenly appears. She raises it with athletic ease far above his head; then slowly lowers it across the knee of the other. This motion is accompanied by the tinkling of metal against metal as the wheel of HER spur stops dangerously close to the bridge of his nose. Brian inhales abruptly, breathing in the lush, heavy aroma of HER intoxicating fragrance. He looks up and toward the drop-dead gorgeous face of this wicked angel. One eye is blocked by polished leather, but the other observes the sweetest, yet most sinister of smiles. His sight is partially blurred by the moisture of oncoming tears, but his mind runs rampant with hope. Is this the Mistress of my dreams, please make it so, please…