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Trapped in the lift!

I find myself in a compromising situation on the way to a job interview
I was so worried about being late for my interview. I got everything prepared the night before. I left my bra and panties and my hold-ups in a neat little pile on the linen chest. I showered first thing and then slipped into my clothes, putting on my make up in plenty of time. I wanted impress my prospective boss so much. I’d planned everything down to the last detail so that I would be on time. Why did the taxi have to break down? Why?

‘OK, don’t panic,’ I thought. Ring for another taxi. Deep breaths.

Road works. There was the mother of all traffic congestion on the road to town. Cones everywhere. I could still do it, but I was pushing it now. All my planning was going to waste. I didn’t want to to turn up looking all flustered. My hair was nice and straight, with little ringlets at the side of my ears. If I started to get sweaty, they would fall out. At least I looked nice in my self. That red dress hugged my bum a treat and with the flesh-coloured hold ups only an inch above the hem - I only needed to cross my legs! Decent but stunning. I’ve not missed a Monday at the gym since April, and I’m looking good, even if I say so myself!

I entered the apartment block with less than six minutes to my interview. I could still be on time, if not a minute or so early. I looked at my letter. It just said room 601, Mr Palmer. I asked the guy on the desk in the foyer and he told me it was on the sixth floor, first on the right. I called the lift and the doors opened with a little ‘ping.’ I stepped inside and pressed the button next to No.6.

I looked at my watch. Three minutes. I couldn’t be late. Punctuality could be the one thing between me and the next candidate. Then the lift stopped at the third and a guy got on. He was quite tall and sharply dressed in his dark grey suit. I guessed he was probably 35. I like a sharp-dressed man, and he was immaculately groomed. I stepped to one side politely and he pushed the door-close button as I had a nice long look at his toned figure.

I guess it might have been a sixth sense, but I knew something was wrong. I must have been standing that bit too close to the elevator doors and when his eyes followed my legs upwards, I just thought, ‘OK, have a good look, why don’t you?’ I looked down and then I realised my dress was moving. By the time I knew what was happening, it was ripped from my body with a sickening tearing sound. I was left standing there, in just my bra and and panties. The guy looked at me, with his mouth open.

“My dress! My new dress!” I exclaimed.

“Oh shit!” Said the guy, in consternation.

“Fuck! What am I going to do! I’ve got an interview in one minute!” I said, in desparation.

The guy looked at me and his eyes feasted on my body. He was clearly in awe of my boobies. I was in such a state, I hadn’t even thought about shielding myself. I was in my skimpiest white panties with the pink lace fringe and a matching push up bra.


The man’s question was abruptly interrupted by a weird scraping sound and then the lift juddered to a halt.

“Now what?” I said.

“Your dress, it must have caught up in the lift mechanism. I’ll just…”

He leant across to press the alarm button, but then paused as his face came close to mine. He looked down at my boobs and then into my eyes. I think I was doing my Little Miss Helpless look.

“Who is your interview with?” he asked.

“It was with Mr. Palmer in six zero three,” I said.

“I’m Grant Palmer,” he said.


“That’s my office. I run Time Underwear. Is this your work?” he said, pointing at my lingerie.

“Yes,” I said. “It’s all my design. I brought some samples, but you‘re seeing them as they were intended.”

“Very nice,” he said.

“What, you like my designs?” I said.

“Yes, but I like what you’re hiding with them even more,” he said.

I gulped. He looked at me and traced his finger up my tummy and continued upwards between my breasts.

“Cute little thing aren’t you,” he said.

“Am I?”

“You know you are, you little minx.”

I fluttered my eyelids and adjusted my bra, making my boobs quiver.

“Didn’t you ought to buzz the buzzer now?” I suggested.

“Oh I will, in a minute. Turn round…erm?”


“Hmmm… turn round Danielle.”

I turned and looked at him over my shoulder. He was admiring my bum and licking his lips.

“Wow! What an ass!” he said.

“Is it?”

“You know it is, you little tease. I bet you planned your dress getting caught in the lift!”

“I DIDN’T!!!” I protested, indignantly.

“OK…OK keep your knickers on!” he said.

There was a long pause as the irony of his comments hit home.

“Really? I thought you might want them off,” I said, cheekily.

“Hmmm… you really are smoking hot,” he said, as he traced his fingers around the outline of my breasts. He made a big letter double-u with his index finger and brushed the underside of my bra, which was straining from the weight of my boobs.

“At least we’re both late for the interview,” I said as I began to unclip my bra. Mr. Palmer fiddled with his trousers and then drew the zipper down. I’m sure his tongue lolled out of his mouth as I let my bra go. I had missed the interview, but was banking on getting the job by default And well, if I was going to get a nice length of hard cock in the process, no harm done. That’s what I say.

He slipped off his jacket and loosened his tie as I eased my panties down. I cupped my hand over his cotton trunks and got a good handful of balls and massaged his hardening penis through the fabric. He weighed my breasts in his hands and squeezed them gently.

"They're fantastic Danielle!"

"Thank you," I said, as I twanged the top of his boxers.

“May I?” I asked, dropping to my knees and looking up at him naughtily.

“Help yourself, my dear,” he said.

I slipped my hand into the opening of his trunks and tickled the shaft with my fingers. At the same time, I bit on to his cock gently through the cotton. He was so hard, but it was fun, teasing him through his undies, making him ache until the moment came when I could slip it into my mouth. I wanted to tease him. He was groaning by the time I pulled them down. I giggled as I flicked the tip, making his incredibly had cock bob comically. I eased his foreskin back slowly, revealing the swollen pink foreskin and then I closed my lips over the end. I didn’t put it all in, but just let my lips brush his tender head as my tongue rolled across the slit. He ran his hands through my hair and stroked my face gently as I took more and more of his manhood.

I gave up my mouth to all seven inches of his beautiful, throbbing gristle. It was pumping in my mouth and as I sucked I began to get more and more aroused myself. My pussy was not only tingling but also beginning to leak, with my girl juice oozing from my inner lips.

Mr. Palmer moaned in such a way I wondered if he would last. I thought it was about time I thought about myself for once and make him cum at the same time. I stood up and bent over, holding onto one of the polished brass bars that ran along the sides of the lift. There was a brief grunt and then a long, passionate groan as I felt my pussy being stretched by his throbbing tool. His cock was hot and I could feel how engorged it was as his bulbous end penetrated my tight entrance.

He didn’t take any prisoners. I moaned with my chin resting on my hand until I was reduced to a whimpering little fuck bunny. My body bucked backwards and forwards as his balls slapped against my pussy lips. Somehow he had got right in me in almost a single thrust. I guess I was just so wet. I had to bite on my knuckle, as I came on his cock. I could feel my love juices pouring out and I had no choice but to let go of my emotions with two or three long wails of pleasure. I wondered how far we were from the next floor. Had someone raised the alarm? I didn’t care, but took the fucking I know I deserved.

Mr. Palmer was calling me every name under the sun as his cock slammed into my pussy. I could feel his fingers digging into me as he held me by the waist. He was rodding me like he hadn’t fucked in months. I was a dirty whore one minute and little fucking slut the next. His words turned me on so much, and as the air turned bluer and bluer, I was getting fucked harder and harder. I knew he must be struggling to contain himself as his breathing was punctuated by all sorts of snorting and blowing. I held on as his body began to lurch towards me and then his cock became even harder.

“Aaaaarghhh, Danielle, I’m gonna cum!”

I braced myself, during that tense few seconds as his breathing laboured and his last few strained words barked out in ecstasy and he filled my cunt with sperm. He came and came as his cock pulsated inside me, spurting load after load into my vagina. I felt him ease out and smear my bum with the last few drops of man goo as it continued to spill from his cock. I stood up and smiled. His face was red and beads of perspiration were pouring down his cheeks. I was suddenly aware that the lift was rather stuffy and was heavy with the scent of sex. We dressed quietly and then he pressed the alarm. We eventually got out half an hour later.

I didn’t actually get the job in the end. He said he would never get any work done. I was too much of a distraction. He had a point. He did make me a coffee though and gave me £200 in H & M vouchers. That was kind of him, since my dress, when it was retrieved looked like something Betty Rubble might wear. I put it all down to experience and caught the next bus home.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright © 2011-2018 Danielle Marsh. All Rights Reserved. This story may not be copied or reproduced, without the express written permission of the author.

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