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Sitting at the table with an empty pad of paper and a pen I had wanted to begin writing something, a poem, a story, maybe even a novel. All it would take is for me to pick up the pen and start and yet, I kept feeling things spin in my head as I struggled with what I was going to write. Each time I’d be certain I was ready, I’d grab the pen, but my mind would twirl off, twisting and whirling around, whirling around… well whirling around the tall black man I could just see if I peeked to my right.
From what I could see during my intermittent peeks was this man wearing a pair of nicely pressed khaki trousers with a wide belt. His shirt was also khaki colored, it looked to be some type of uniform. A uniform was nice, but either way each time I’d steal a glance my fantasy would twist away from me. First it was the elevator…
…large black fingers wrapped firmly around my bicep as he led me toward the elevator. His grip was firm, but not painful, he wanted me to understand he was in control, but did not have a desire to cause me any further harm. The elevators were slow and while we waited a sizable crowd collected, all waiting for a ride up or down. bahis firmaları When I heard a loud ding and saw a red light in the shape of an upward pointing arrow light up I felt the grip on my arm tighten.
“Now listen,” the black man said to me, “You are to get on this elevator and stand right next to me. You are not to look at, talk to or touch any of the others on the elevator. Do you think you can do this?”
“Yes of course,” I replied looking up at his face. It was a deep black, seeming to glisten in the warmth and bright light. His hair was trimmed very short, but his large forehead told me he’d start going bald soon. Actually, I could picture him with a shaved head, the deep tone of his skin would make him look like some ebony warrior. This image was enhanced by his large nose and broad lips, but what made this man so formidable were the intense, dark eyes.
“Remember, right next to me,” I heard him say as he gently pulled me into the elevator.
As the other people filed in, the man and I squeezed closer and closer together until I was almost in front of him, my one hand actually pinched between us. The elevator jolted upward and kaçak iddaa I could feel it, yes I could feel his cock against my arm. My first reaction would have been to jerk away, since, while I liked the feel of him, this was a large man carrying a nightstick and a gun. On the other hand, any sudden movement might make him think I was trying to get away from him, so I stood motionless, acting as if I didn’t feel anything.
Of course I could feel something, something, happily substantial. Then I noticed a bit more… as the elevator paused at a floor and then began to move again it felt like… yes, I could feel it now. His cock was growing! As I stood there, my arm resting against his crotch, I could feel his magnificent cock getting hard.
My cock immediately hardened some more, I was already half-way there because of his handling of me, but now I felt it pressing against the fabric of my pants. I had to grit my teeth to fight off the trembling that threatened to overcome me in my state of excitement. I tried to act completely normal as I felt his cock throb and grow, slowly snaking up my arm.
By the time we made it to the next stop I could feel kaçak bahis he was completely erect and I now had to fight the urge to gently clasp his balls and move my arm back and forth over the entire length of him. All I could do was remain motionless as one by one everyone stepped out into the hall, leaving him and I alone as the doors quickly closed. Not sure what to do, I stepped out toward the center of the elevator.
Terror suddenly shot though me as I saw his hand go to the side of his belt, toward his gun, but it quickly rose up holding some keys. He guided a key into a key control on the elevator and turned it, quickly stopping the elevator. Turning to me, he rested his hands on my shoulders and firmly pressed downward, not exactly forcing me, but strongly encouraging me to get on my knees.
Once down I looked up at the outline of his erection in his pants and I waited while he took his zipper and pulled it down. He then reached into his pants and pulled…
The pen was in my hand and I was about to write “The Elevator” down on it as the title of my story when no… no… no… it all changed. As busy as the elevators were he couldn’t have stopped them, or he wouldn’t have. I leaned forward and took another glance, yes, he was still there. I looked him over, savoring the image and then an idea: maybe a room, somewhere where we’d have to wait, just the two of us…
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