The Elevator Story
One crisp spring morning I had just entered an empty elevator when a woman came bounding into the building looking expectantly at me. I smiled and held the doors open for her.
"Thank you, I am running late" she gasped her cheeks rosy from exertion. She has bleached blonde short spiky hair, big bright eyes and juicy curves… in a word voluptuous.
I asked her for her number when the elevator opened on my floor.
"I would love to give it to you but I really am late for an appointment, but I am here every Friday."
"I guess I'll just ride up with you then ride back down." I said as I dug for a pen. In big cursive script she wrote Renee and her phone number on a little piece of note paper.
I lost the number!
A couple of weeks later I was in a café downstairs with a coworker when, as luck would have it, she walked in. I quickly excused my self and walked up to her "Renee, I am so happy to see you again, I lost your number." We chatted for a quick minute. This time I put the number right into my phone.
We met early the following week for an after work drink at 6. She walked in, a little late, we each had a glass of wine, but it was such a nice night that we headed to a nearby park. We made out briefly. "Let's go" I say. An hour after meeting, we are a train to her studio apartment in Queens.
We had sex for the first time looking out her 16th floor window overlooking Manhattan before moving to her bed. She is wild and bucks when she comes.
She wanted me to stay the night, but I wanted to get home, so I was on the train by 9.
Renee is an artist, she's submissive. She has more toys than FAO Schwartz – she was especially proud of her latex skin suit. She shared wild stories of sex in public, of swinger experiences, of how she has sex on the first date all too frequently.
I did not speak to her after our first encounter, but arranged our second meeting by sending her a series of text messages. It was in my mind a treasure hunt of sorts. For her it was increasingly exciting because she would get the messages at the oddest hours.
As requested, she was sitting at the outdoor restaurant facing south wearing a long flowing skirt with a lollipop in her mouth when I got there. After our meal we went to her house.
Again for some unknown reason I did not want to stay the night.
That was the last I saw of her. I called her a couple of days later but she did not return my call. I did not feel like trying to call again.
"Thank you, I am running late" she gasped her cheeks rosy from exertion. She has bleached blonde short spiky hair, big bright eyes and juicy curves… in a word voluptuous.
I asked her for her number when the elevator opened on my floor.
"I would love to give it to you but I really am late for an appointment, but I am here every Friday."
"I guess I'll just ride up with you then ride back down." I said as I dug for a pen. In big cursive script she wrote Renee and her phone number on a little piece of note paper.
I lost the number!
A couple of weeks later I was in a café downstairs with a coworker when, as luck would have it, she walked in. I quickly excused my self and walked up to her "Renee, I am so happy to see you again, I lost your number." We chatted for a quick minute. This time I put the number right into my phone.
We met early the following week for an after work drink at 6. She walked in, a little late, we each had a glass of wine, but it was such a nice night that we headed to a nearby park. We made out briefly. "Let's go" I say. An hour after meeting, we are a train to her studio apartment in Queens.
We had sex for the first time looking out her 16th floor window overlooking Manhattan before moving to her bed. She is wild and bucks when she comes.
She wanted me to stay the night, but I wanted to get home, so I was on the train by 9.
Renee is an artist, she's submissive. She has more toys than FAO Schwartz – she was especially proud of her latex skin suit. She shared wild stories of sex in public, of swinger experiences, of how she has sex on the first date all too frequently.
I did not speak to her after our first encounter, but arranged our second meeting by sending her a series of text messages. It was in my mind a treasure hunt of sorts. For her it was increasingly exciting because she would get the messages at the oddest hours.
As requested, she was sitting at the outdoor restaurant facing south wearing a long flowing skirt with a lollipop in her mouth when I got there. After our meal we went to her house.
Again for some unknown reason I did not want to stay the night.
That was the last I saw of her. I called her a couple of days later but she did not return my call. I did not feel like trying to call again.
posted by SagaciousDemon at 9:52 AM
