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Elevator Dare
by Charisse van der Lyn (address withheld)

***

I don't know how I ever agreed to the challenge. 
Arrogance, excitement, the reward? I don't know. And 
who the hell was Steven to even suggest it, an e-mail 
friend. I had never met him, and probably never would. 
I could have ignored his dare. I could have lied and 
said I had done it. But I didn't. (FF, exh)

***

All I had to do was to get on an elevator with a change 
of clothes; then on the way up to the top floor I had 
to change outfits. 

It was surprisingly simple to set it up so that I could 
prove to Steven than I had met his test. I merely had 
to hand my camera, which date and time stamps each 
picture, to someone in the lobby and ask that he take 
my picture in front of the elevator. And, I would do 
the same at the top floor. 

Each outfit had to be skimpy enough that there would be 
no way I could wear them both and simply slip one over 
the other. I chose a red mini with a zipper up the back 
and a translucent white blouse. The photograph would 
show my bare tits through the blouse, and he would have 
to take my word that I was wearing matching red 
panties. 

My second outfit was a short brown, woolen skirt and 
matching jacket with a cream colored blouse that could 
never hide my black bra. I picked the 101 building, 
with 60 floors, and which has a nice restaurant on the 
top, my reward. I decided to go during the early 
evening so that most of the offices would be empty, and 
although someone could get on, it wasn't likely. 

By the time I had gotten everything together, I really 
didn't want to go. I'm forty years old. I'm attractive, 
but I'm not a twenty year old girl who, if caught could 
say it was a sorority prank. What could I say? Nothing. 
But, somehow I couldn't bring myself to back out. 

By the time I had parked my car my heart was racing, my 
hands were sweating, and I was feeling excited. I found 
the express elevators, at least I could minimize the 
likelihood of someone getting on to the top 20 floors 
only. A young man in a suit was looking at a paper. 

I asked him if he would take my picture, for a friend. 
He did, but as I turned to get on the elevator a couple 
got on with me. I hit the button for the 48th floor, 
got off. My hands shook as I waited a few minutes 
before going back down, and I could feel myself oozing 
with excitement. God, how I wanted to take care of it. 
But now, more than ever I knew I had to give it another 
go. 

I kept thinking of my age, and how crazy this was as I 
waited for someone to take my picture again. Looking at 
myself in the mirrored wall opposite me, I could easily 
see my nipples pointing hard and red through the fabric 
of my blouse. "Slut." I jumped at my own loud, 
strangled voice. 

Two more times I got on the elevator, each time someone 
got on with me. The second time I actually started to 
unbutton my blouse anyway, but the other passenger was 
an older man, gray haired, distinguished, and something 
about him suggested that he'd call the police on me, 
rather than enjoy seeing me strip. 

I was hot, frustrated and wondering if this weren't a 
big mistake I had ever made when I heard someone 
talking to me. 

"Are you waiting for the elevator?" A woman's voice 
asked. 

I turned. "Yes," I said to the woman. 

She was younger, maybe late twenties, attractive, 
dressed like a successful lawyer or executive, and she 
was staring at my breasts, as she held the open 
elevator door for me. I started to get in, but 
remembered the photograph. 

"Here." I handed her my camera. "Take a quick picture 
of me, please." 

She grinned, held the camera to her eyes, and clicked 
off a shot. Her eyes asked questions she was too polite 
to voice as I took the camera back and walked into the 
elevator with her. 

The door closed and I knew the moment had come, in 
spite of her... or perhaps because of her? As the 
elevator began to move, I knelt and quickly opened my 
bag. I looked up at the other woman. "Don't ask why," I 
said in an excited whisper. "But I've got to change 
before we get to the top floor." I could tell that she 
was enjoying looking at me. 

"You'll never make it," she grinned. 

I took a deep breath, stood, and unbuttoned my blouse, 
letting it drop to the floor. I reached behind me, 
unzipped my skirt, and wiggled out of it while trying 
to keep my panties from slipping down too. I was 
suddenly conscious of how my breasts jiggled as I 
stepped out of the skirt. 

She reached past me and hit the button for 40th floor. 

The elevator stopped and the doors opened, I grabbed my 
blouse and held it in front of me, but no one got on. 

"No," she whispered and hit the 'Door Close' button. 
"I'll hold the elevator for you." 

I smiled as the doors closed and the elevator remained 
motionless. 

"My name's Debbie." She pulled out the red 'Out of 
Service' button. "I just hate to see you rush." 

I could feel the red creep up my neck and face. 

"It's a bet," I said. 

"I'm sure," Debbie said as she crouched to look though 
my bag. She pulled out my clothes, piece by piece. She 
held my second pair of panties against her cheek. 
"Black silk," she said. "I'm impressed." For a moment, 
before putting them down, she held them to her lips, 
closed her eyes, and kissed them. 

Her dress rode up her thighs. I looked down at the dark 
purple lacy tops of her designer stockings and the 
purple straps of her garter belt. I felt myself tingle 
and ache for her. It had been years since I had made 
love to a woman, and I fought hard to not reach up 
under her dress and grope her like I was some 
adolescent in heat. 

"My name's Traci," I whispered. 

She nodded. "You'll need help, Traci," she said, 
reaching up and hooking her fingers in the elastic of 
my panties. 

"God!" I sighed. I dropped my blouse and let her pull 
my panties down. 

As I stepped out of them, I could smell the musty odor 
of my sex in that tiny elevator. 

She grinned up at me. "You're all wet," she said 
looking back at my crotch. "And such a beautiful bush." 

"Eat me," I heard myself sigh. 

One of her long, delicately fingered hands slipped 
behind me, pressed into my buttocks, and urged my 
overheated nest into her smooth cheek. Her other hand 
smoothed my hairs away from my moist slit. I looked at 
her finely manicured carmine fingernails on my mound as 
if I had never seen fingers there before. She buried 
her face against my mound.

I felt her hot breath burning me, and as she kissed me 
and moaned, her tongue began to explore the cleft of my 
vulva through my tangle bush. It pushed between the 
puffy folds of skin and flicked against my clit. I had 
been so close before, but now, I felt my knees give out 
and I sank to the floor. Debbie guided me down, while 
her mouth never left my pussy. I began to buck 
uncontrollably, and she slipped two fingers deep in my 
hole. Her touch was electric, as if I were a virgin and 
this were my first time. 

I pulled my knees up against my chest and held them 
there, wantonly displaying myself to her. My heart 
swelled as part of me felt pride that I could be here, 
like this, being loved by a beautiful woman almost half 
my age. 

She slurped and licked and kissed my pussy, as she 
finger fucked me. 

I writhed under her mouth and came in seconds. 

After a moment or two, I reached down and ran my 
fingers through her dirty-blond hair. "Let me do you," 
I said. 

Debbie sat up, and while cupping my sex and slowly 
fingering me to another climax, she began to straighten 
out my clothes. "You've got your bet to win first." She 
removed her hand, leaving me humping air. "Come on." 
She helped me to my feet and began to dress me in my 
second outfit. 

I was dizzy and giddy. And I so much wanted to have 
her. "It can wait," I protested as helped me on with my 
jacket. 

Debbie pushed in the "Out of Service" button and the 
elevator resumed its climb. When the doors opened, she 
stepped out, she aimed my camera at me and took my 
picture. "Looks like you've won." 

We had drinks and ordered dinner. Debbie was a lawyer, 
and, remarkably, she was thirty-seven. I explained the 
entire bet to her, and said that it had worked out 
better than I could ever have imagined. I kept hinting 
that we should go somewhere so I could return her 
favors, but she deflected my suggestions as well as my 
attempts to touch her under the table. 

"I want to make love to you," I said. "Let's get out of 
here." 

She smiled at me. "You are so naughty." She stood up 
and whispered in my ear, suggesting we go to the ladies 
room. 

I wasn't sure about this, but her smile was so warm and 
confident that I happily followed. 

We giggled and primped in front of the mirror while we 
waited for a woman to leave. "I've never--" I started 
to say had no idea what we really could do in a stall. 
But Debbie took my hand and led me into the large 
handicap stall on the end. She locked the door and in 
one motion grabbed my crotch and was French kissing me 
with the abandon and strength of a man. 

When she broke the kiss I swooned back from her, 
breathless and in disarray. I could feel my lipstick 
was smeared and my eyes were half closed with the warm 
tingling of her soft lips kissing me so brutally. I 
wanted to feel my breasts pressing against hers again; 
my nipples hardening, pushing into her yielding flesh. 
And I wanted her to hold them in her hands, her red 
nails like the petals of a blossom around ripe fruit, 
guiding my nipples to her mouth. 

Her eyes sparkled. She sat down suddenly on the lid of 
the toilet and pulled me down over her lap. 

"You are a naughty bitch," she said, speculatively, as 
if floating the idea for someone else to comment on. 
She pulled up on my skirt. Her delicate hands pressed 
and stroked my bottom. 

I moaned and closed my eyes as I gave into her touch. 
Her quick hands slid my panties down, then she drew her 
finger slowly through the cleft of my wet, hungry, sex. 
She wormed her moistened finger between my cheeks and 
into my tight bottom-hole until it was deep in me. 

I squirmed on her lap as she wiggled her finger around 
in me. It was wonderful to have her in me like that. 

"Ooo yes," I moaned as she fingered me. 

Abruptly, she pulled her hand back and slapped me hard. 
I jumped with the searing pain, and the suddenness of 
her attack. Tears welled. I started up, but she held me 
down. I tried to speak, but my voice choked with fear 
and panic. 

"Shut up," she said. Again and again she slapped me. My 
eyes ran with tears, and my ass stung more and more 
with each slap. 

When she stopped, she made me stand up and she slid my 
panties completely down. She stood up and wiped my face 
dry. Then she crumpled my panties into a ball and 
tucked them into my bag. 

"Debbie?" I whispered, unsure of where things were 
going. 

"Shhh, quiet, cunt." She grabbed my ass and began 
probing my tiny hole again. 

I snuffled, half in pleasure, half in fear. My bottom 
relaxed and nipped at her finger. I wanted her to enter 
me there again. 

"You're so lucky you met me." Her breath was hot on my 
face. "I can see you're just a slut." The tip of her 
finger pushed into me again. "You're a slutty, bitch, 
cunt. A slave cunt." She jerked my blonde hair in her 
elegant fist and she her finger jammed deeper into me. 
"For now you're my slave cunt." She smiled. "And I'm 
going to take your bet a lot farther than you had ever 
expected." 

I couldn't believe how I felt, a mixture of lust and 
shame, and how I wanted her. I loved her. 

She withdrew her finger and pushed me to my feet. 

Standing up, she drew out a tissue wiped her finger. I 
squeezed my bottom-hole, missing her touch. 

"Get dressed," she said, unlocking the cubicle and 
stepping out. 

I was a mess. Wet and sticky. I wiped myself clean. I 
smoothed out my dress, patted my blouse and jacket. I 
stepped out. The light seemed brighter, colder. Debbie 
was standing at the sink washing her hands. I stood 
next to her, straightening my hair. 

Debbie held her finger to my nose. "Smell it." 

It was musty. It had been in my bottom. I blushed. 

Debbie kissed my cheek. "You smell of sex," she 
whispered. "Slut." 

Coolly, she turned and finished washing. I watched her 
as she moved in slow motion. Her hands. Her mouth. I 
knew she was right, I was at her slave. 

We paid the bill and waited for the elevator with a 
businessman. When the doors closed behind us Debbie 
pushed me against the wall opposite the man. She 
reached down and lifted my skirt. The air felt cold 
against my naked sex. "Show the man how you play with 
yourself." 

I couldn't. But the man did turn to look, and Debbie 
stepped out the way. "Go on," she whispered in my ear. 
"Show him your twat. Talk to him." 

Tears welled in my eyes. I knew I had to touch myself 
for him. I reached down and slid my fingers through the 
sticky damp hair of my pussy. 

"Look at my pussy," I whispered. "See how hot I am." 

Debbie pulled my legs apart. Then she squeezed my jaw. 
"Don't look away." 

I stared at the man, noticed that his pants bulged and 
he covered himself as he watched me masturbate. In 
spite of the tears and embarrassment, I loved knowing I 
had made him hard. I wanted him to take out his tool, I 
wondered what it looked like, and felt like, and tasted 
like... 

"Watch me touch my cunt." My voice choked and cracked 
with humiliation. "I'm really naughty... see me play 
with my cunt... my twat... for you." 

The elevator slowed, and Debbie pulled my hand away, 
letting my dress cover me again. 

"I'm masturbating for you." I cried, as she pushed me 
towards the door. When it opened we walked out ahead of 
the man and into the cold night air. 

It took a few minutes for me to calm down. 

"Debbie?" I said. 

"Honey," she kissed me on the cheek. "You'll get me, 
promise. But first, I'm going to exhibit you like you 
can't imagine." She stuck her tongue in my ear, then 
whispered, "And when you cum, you'll cum like you never 
have before." 

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 48