So on an email list the other day, we were playing truth or dare. I asked if I could play, and here was my challenge....
sure....the more people the more fun....
ohhh.... let us know what would happen if you had Nicky in an
elevator for 15 minutes.....
and here is the result...
There we are, somewhere around the 20th floor in an executive high rise, when the power goes out. The elevator stops and for some ungodly reason the emergency lighting isn't working either. Now you must understand, even in the dark I can feel Nick smirking, because this is a fantasy of his that he's told me about on several occasions.
Only one problem. The elderly lady that boarded the elevator just two floors ago.
But, it's dark... do I dare? Oh sure, why not?!
Difficult to tell just how much time I have, but then that's all part of the thrill ... the possibility of getting caught.
Gently I run my hand over his chest, and I can feel the muscles tense beneath my fingers as he catches his breath.
A tremulous voice from the other side of the elevator asks, "Dear, are you all right?"
"Umm ... yeah, sure. I'm just ..." he bites back a moan as my fingers undo the snap at his waist. "I'm ... umm ... claustrophobic." He breathes heavily as I lower the zipper, not wanting to give away what I'm doing. Poor thing, she'd probably go into cardiac arrest if she knew I'd managed to free him from his boxers and was holding his throbbing length in my hand.
"Oh my," she says sympathetically. "My late husband was that way, too. Poor dear," she sighed.
I smile against his skin and begin my torture in earnest. As you would suspect, I drop silently to the floor and take him deeply into my mouth. His hands tangle in my hair to hold me closer and he shudders as I tease his flesh. He presses deeper toward my throat and I almost choke with laughter when the voice speaks again.
"You know," she continues thoughtfully, "whenever my dear departed husband was feeling poorly, I would just snuggle up and hold him close. It would make him feel so much better. I certainly hope that young lady of yours is holding on to *you* right now."
Nick groans. "Oh yeah ... she is. She's holding me real good."
I decide I'd better answer her before she gets suspicious and moves closer to us. I pull my mouth away, giving him one last lick for good measure before I speak.
"He's always been this way, poor baby. Afraid of the dark, too, aren't you sweetie?" As I'm talking I'm stroking him steadily and I can feel that he's almost gone.
"Uh huh ..." he gasps.
"You poor dear!" she says. "I'm sure it's almost over. Any second now."
I laugh to myself. She has no idea how right she is. I know if I don't help him out we'll have a mess to explain when the power comes back, so once again I press my mouth where it's needed most and aid my efforts with my hand. A noise comes from the shaft below us just as the shaft closest to me takes its relief between my lips.
"God..." he moans and I gently tuck him back into his clothing as he leans weakly against the elevator wall.
A disjointed voice comes from the speaker on the wall. "You folks okay in there?"
"Of course," our lady answers, "but you'd better hurry. This young man in here is in serious distress."
The concerned voice on the intercom asks if we need medical assistance and I giggle. "No, he's just claustrophobic. He'll be fine once the lights are on again."
Nick gasps. "No I won't," he mumbles. "I'll never be fine again."
Just then the lights flicker and return the car to full illumination. Nick looks like he's been through some sort of global conflict, while I'm cool as a cucumber and smiling innocently. The elevator finally begins its descent to the ground floor as our travelling companion looks Nick over from head to toe.
She shakes her head and says, "You poor boy. How traumatic this must have been! I think you should go straight home and hop into bed for the rest of the day." The doors open and she gives us a serene smile as she steps off into the afternoon sunlight, into the atrium of the building.
Nick and I can't move because we're trying very hard to hold back our laughter.
Finally we steal a glance at each other and burst out laughing.
"Bed?" he asks.
"For the whole afternoon," I say.
Grabbing my hand, he pulls me toward the door. "Race you to the car..."