Public Sex Erotica
"Trapped" a sex story by Kris Williams
The elevator was hot and crowded: typical for downtown Edmonton on a Wednesday afternoon. Marc had come to my office to meet me for lunch, and we had had to push our way through the crowd of people to get to the back. Marc stood behind me and pulled me against him, and I could feel his erection through the thin summer skirt I was wearing. I leaned against his muscled chest and tried not to think about it. We were playing a new kind of game: to see how long we could go without having sex of any kind. So far we had made it through four days, no mean feat considering how strong both our drives were.
It had started out as a joke, with me teasing him about being unable to go without it for more than twelve hours, and after a while Marc's male pride had reared its head and he had challenged me: How long could I last without sex? It was a challenge I had accepted gleefully, certain of victory. Marc was an animal when it came to his needs in the bedroom; I had never met a man who loved and wanted sex more. He was a superb lover, always thinking of my needs and desires as well as his own, and the orgasms he gave me were the most powerful I had ever experienced. Going without his constant attentions was turning out to be a lot harder than I had expected, especially in the morning. Just one look at his magnificent physique, naked as he got ready for the shower, and I was on fire with lust. I wanted to fall to my knees and take his cock in my mouth, I wanted to feel him shoot down my throat, I wanted to bend over and have him fuck me like a whore ...
Now, I shook those treacherous thoughts away. That familiar ache was growing inside me, and despite the heat in the elevator, my nipples had hardened into bullets. Marc looked down at my chest, and when he dipped his head toward me and laughed softly in my ear, I flushed. He knew what I was thinking, damn it, and the momentary annoyance that filled me made me try to move away from him.
"No, you don't," he murmured, and tightened his arms around me, pushing his hips gently into my backside. At the touch of his hardness against my buttocks I sucked in my breath with a faint hissing noise, and he laughed again. A woman standing beside us looked at me curiously, and I gave her a weak smile, my face burning. I turned my head toward Marc and whispered, "Stop it!" through gritted teeth, and he grinned at me, all innocence, and replied, "Stop what, babe?"
I didn't reply, and he continued to push himself against me, tiny movements of his hips that no one but me noticed. Every time I felt that rigid cock press against me it sent a shock of desire through my pelvis, and I looked despairing up at the orange numbers at the top of the elevator car: they seemed to be moving with agonizing slowness. Suddenly, there was an abrupt jerking movement that brought several startled cries from the people standing around us, and the car came to a stop. The lights flicked for a moment, dimmed, and then decided to stay on, but we were definitely not moving.
"Shit!" The exclamation brought a scatter of laughter, and another voice answered: "At least."
A man standing near the door pried open the small metal door of the emergency telephone and picked it up. He held it to his ear, listened for a moment, and then replied impatiently, "When? There must be twenty people in here, and it's hot as hell." He sighed as he listened to the answer, replaced the receiver, and shrugged.
"Guy says it could be ten minutes." There was a collective groan at this, and someone asked: "Wanna play twenty questions?" Everyone laughed; it broke the ice, and all at once the atmosphere was more relaxed. People began to talk quietly, and I leaned my head back on Marc's shoulder, smiling when he kissed my temple. I started when I felt his hand slide against my ass and reach under my skirt, and when I opened my mouth to protest his voice was soft in my ear.
"You don't want everyone to know what's going on, do you, Annie?" His fingers were touching the backs of my thighs now, and I managed to stay still, but it was hard. I felt him probing between my legs, and then a light touch on my already wet pussy made me bite my lip so hard I almost drew blood.
"Easy, angel," Marc breathed, and now his fingers were brushing against that exquisitely sensitive skin: back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. It was agony not to move my hips, but I stayed as still as I could, conscious of the people pressed around us. When Marc reached inside my panties and placed the tip of his index finger on my swollen clit I almost lost it, and I could hear him chuckle.
"Like that, babe?" he murmured, and my chest began to heave as I struggled to control my breathing. The woman next to me frowned in a concerned way.
"Are you okay?" she asked. "You look like you're about to faint."
I managed to smile at her. Marc's finger was rubbing gently back and forth and I didn't know how much longer I could take it, but I'd be damned if I'd let him know that. "I'm fine," I said in a trembling voice. "It's just - ah, hot."
The woman nodded, and Marc kissed my temple again. "You could say that," he told me, and now the sensations were building and my knees were getting weak. His finger reached back, dipping into my slippery wetness, and when it returned to my clit I knew I was lost. The feel of his finger sliding so easily across that engorged bud, caressing expertly, drawing out every touch, pushed me up and over the peak, and as I came my breath caught in my throat and my eyes closed. My body went rigid as the waves swept me from head to toe, and I didn't care who was watching; all I cared about was the flower that had unfolded inside me, the flower that was drenched with the moist dew he loved more than anything.
Marc withdrew his hand, waited a moment, and then brought the finger to his lips and tasted it, and the sight of that made the ghost of one of those sweet contractions surge through me again. His arm tightened around me, and he bent his head again and kissed my neck.
"You're so goddamn beautiful when you come," he whispered, and as the elevator jerked again and began to move, I was actually sorry; I could have stayed there all day.
If you enjoyed this story you may also enjoy
Addicted to Love: The Enslavement of Krissy by Kris Williams
Copyright May 2007, Kris Williams.
Published with permission from author on OystersandChocolate.com. Copying or reprinting this work in part or in whole without permission is illegal.
Originally published May 2007 - "Mmm"