We were like two weasels in heat. And our physicality suited our desires. I’m tall and slim but he’s taller and broader in all the proper places. The fact that I only had two access entries never bothered him at all. This was compensated his ability to enter one of those access places whilst both of us were standing up.

Our first encounter was innocent enough…sort of. I was trying on dresses in Saks. My LBD had long given up the ghost. Walking out of the dressing room, I paraded about testing the look and the feel of the dress. I liked the upper thigh hem and halter asymmetrical look but I wanted to feel and see how it moved.

As I stood in front of a three way mirror checking out how my butt looked, in the background stood a man watching and shaking his head. And not in an approving manner I might add. As I turned, I sneered at him. He chuckled and signaled me over with a crook of his index finger. I was fuming as I strode up to him.

“What…!!!” I rather strongly stated looking up at him; a lovely change rather than looking at or down at a man.
He simply smiled and shook his head.

“It’s not who you really are.” He smiled warmly. “You have a terrific body and legs a mile long. That rag you’re wearing just doesn’t do you justice.”

Taking a step back…I was truly almost in his face…I gazed up at him questioningly. He was quite distinguished in appearance even if dressed in jeans and a rugby shirt. Guessing him to be in his late thirties with styled blonde hair and baby blues to die for, I suddenly realized my mouth was agape.

“What’s wrong with this dress?” I managed to utter. He was fatally cute!

“Well…?” He crossed his arms and grinned. “You’re like a present…a gift.”

Full body tingles…!

“And what’s the fun of receiving a gift if mostly unwrapped? Part of the fun of receiving a gift is the unwrapping.” He laughed. “Something mid-calf would serve you way better.”

“And what would you like to see me in?” I giggled.

“My bed…” He laughed.

Talk about a serious flirt! Feeling my face flush, I had to retort with a wicked grin.

“That would take at least a dinner and Netflix.” I grinned a smiled slyly.

But he was quick!

“Playing hard to get are we?” He laughed.

We bantered and flirted for several more moments. He touched my arm; a gentle passing touch to emphasize a point. I trembled. It was electric and shot throughout my body. He noticed.

“You must be cold wearing that napkin.” He chuckled. “Get changed and let’s go somewhere.”

His tone was commanding; firm but not threatening. Everything about him was so totally masculine. And the vibe between us was very intense. I still didn’t know his name and he didn’t know mine…yet. But it seemed we didn’t care either.

As I changed, the fear haunted me. I knew what I felt but he didn’t know I was…oh how shall I put this…different? I had to let him know once I was dressed. I didn’t want any scenes, hissy fits or oddly assorted melt downs. I’d been there and done that…or should I say had that done.
Checking myself in the dressing room mirror, I removed the scrunchy from my hair and shook it out. We were a perfect match style wise. I wore jeans and an oversized tee shirt with a multi colored orchid motif on white. Striding out as best I could in flats with my shoulder bag, his grin matched my own. Now for the hard part…

“You look like a taco maven.” I said tentatively.

“I do so enjoy a spicy one with sour cream on top.” He chuckled.

“Well…?” I rolled my eyes. “How do you feel about a bite sized cannoli with cream filling?”

Terror…! Trembling…!

He didn’t say a word. Crossing his arms, he simply stared at me and frowned.

“I happen to enjoy a bite sized cannoli.” He paused for a moment and then grinned. “As well as a nice fat bratwurst nestled between a warm plump bun.” He laughed. “Come…” He took my hand. “The sun is over the yard arm. Let’s get a drink.”

His hand was huge and engulfed mine. His palm was warm and…thankfully…dry. I hate nervous men with sweaty palms. That is a massive ick! Leading me out of Saks, and the maul, we arrived at a local Brickell fave; the River Oyster Bar.

And no…! I didn’t eat forty-eight oysters! I can’t even stomach looking at them raw. Yet another ick in my book of icks…! But I did have one margarita which of course led to another. And he had a Jack in the black which led to another. The appetizers kept coming and we talked.
His name was Michael but I could call him Mike. My name is Michelle but he could call me Mickie. He plays GTA. I love that game. He plays the guitar and I play the guitar. I sing but he doesn’t. Not an ick…!

With my third margarita and his ‘Tennessee Tea’, Mike ordered two entrees to share. The talk was constant and flowed easily. The aura surrounding us grew so thick that we could ignore the happy hour crowd beginning to assemble. The entire time that ‘One Margarita’ song kept running through my head and I wished my third was the fourth!

Finally being totally sated…and properly shit-faced...but def not sloppy…Mike paid the check. He escorted me through the now packed bistro with his arm around my waist. Once on the street Mike stopped and gazed down into my eyes with a grin. He took me in his arms and gave me a kiss that totally curled my toes! He left me breathless.

“Okay babe… Time for Netflix…” He chuckled. “Your car in valet…?”

I was in such a fog of wanton desire that his question took a long moment to register.

“I took an Uber.” I said breathily.

“Me too…” He grinned. “I’ll get us one.”

The ride was a blur. With his arm hugging me to him I nestled into his side. I couldn’t stop myself from placing both my hands upon his upper thigh and teasing his bulging dick with gentle passing touches. I barely remember the doorman opening the car door or the side trip to the concierge desk to let them know I would be a ‘regular guest’. I was setting a new world record for being a ‘U-Haul’.

It was the vibe…always the vibe. We couldn’t keep our hands off one another. We initiated every room in his triplex and every common area in the building complex! During that first weekend we gave away almost my entire wardrobe, all my furniture, my car, my nursing job, and…in short…my entire life!

We were on the same level. I wanted direction and Mike loved to direct. Mike loved me in wide hemmed skirts and dresses to facilitate our impromptu liaisons. He could lift the back and open his zipper and voila; copulation on the spot…so to speak. And he loved me in bodycon pieces when he felt like showing me off on those special occasions.

We were on the same level. And that was either in heaven or in the gutter…or both. Even after an evening of heavily entertaining one another, and whilst he was asleep, Mike would pop one. If I was awake, I wouldn’t let a good thing go to waste and I’d either sit atop of it or spoon up in front of him and slip it into me. Often he wouldn’t even be fully awake and would ask me in the morning if we ‘did it’. Mike would frown if we did and complained that he missed all the action. I’d snicker and simply ask him if he felt like repeating it.

We were definitely on the same level. At first the strapon had me bugging. The dildo attached was huge! Even looking at it gave me the creepy icks. Mike assured me that we both had the same G-spot and he found this to be quite enjoyable. And it was nice being on top for a change even if it wasn’t exactly cowgirl.

Mike also assured me that he wasn’t into pain, cosplay, BDSM, DS or any other alphabet soup. And I was definitely submissive. But he encouraged me and when I figured out a way to take care of both ends…a hand full and a mouth full…and the extreme pleasure I could give him, who was I to resist!

My nursing experience allowed us to explore various ways of using catheters for our mutual pleasure; a first for him and me. This gave a whole new meaning to exchanging bodily, as well as other interesting, fluids. And this also made our daily ‘sanitary’ practices way more fun.
Mike and I were completely on the same level. On cruises, on beaches, in cute boutique hotels, in five star restaurants, in restroom stalls, we were insatiable. That’s not to say we didn’t have our moments or very rare animated discussions. But like any storm they blew over.

We did each other favors. Maybe he was tired or had a rough day at his office. I knew how to relieve his stress. And on those occasions when I was feeling a wee bit hormonal, he would relieve mine. There was never reciprocation required.

When I was feeling self-conscious….maybe I would look better with a little off my chin or my pronounced jaw. He thought I looked perfect just as I was. The only work I ever had done was my vocal box and a little shaving of my ‘apple’. When I wanted to get a little boob job, he emphatically said no. He called it ‘chasing the dragon’. Mike countered with ‘any more than a mouth full was wasted’.

About seven months into our total infatuation, and after a night out, we got hot and heavy in the elevator. That was when an epic thought occurred to me. We simply had to do it in the elevator. With so many floors…so many levels…we could definitely have a good time whilst moving up and down between the many levels; forty-four in all. And so I planned.

Rather than use the express elevator to the top four floors…the penthouses…we could use the regular elevators. We knew that going up wasn’t all that risky. It was the going down that would be interesting. Mike took me to Joe’s Stone Crab where we have a few drinks and more than a few crab claws.

We were feeling no pain when we arrived home; none at all. We couldn’t keep our hands, or our lips, off one another in the lobby. The few people there either smiled or simply looked away. I didn’t care. The thought of being watched was exciting. And after all, it was just a little heavy petting. Well…maybe a wee bit more than little…

We got on the express elevator fully prepared. I went down on Mike to get him ready although it seemed he was already mostly there. We went up and down and then up again. On the way back down, I handed him a syringe filled with twenty milliliters of lube. He lifted the back of my dress and, after spreading a bit around my butt hole, Mike injected the volume up my butt.

We both then got on the local elevator and Mike pushed all the buttons for stops on each level. As the door closed he hiked up the back of my dress and rubbed his dick up against the lube at my entrance. I always loved to ‘nibble’ at his dick head and tease him a bit.

“Easy girl…” Mike whispered in my ear. “We have forty flights to go.”

He chuckled and placed his hands upon my tummy. When the elevator stopped at the first floor with a slight jerk, I felt his dick begin to nudge me open. I knew where this was going and loved every teasing moment. His dick head popped in when we hit five and by the tenth floor Mike was in and totally lubed.

On every level up to forty, and with each little jarring and lurching when stopping and starting, a massive wave of pleasure ensued. I was totally dick drunk by the time we reached forty. Mike was leaning back against the wall and I was so limp that he held me up with his arms around my waist. I could swear his dick head was poking at my belly button from the inside!

On the way back down…so to speak…a couple entered on twenty-two (in mid stroke no less). We froze in place with me slightly bent over. They stared at us but for a moment. Mike was quick.

“She’s had one too many.” He chuckled and smiled.

‘One too many’… Hmmm… They smiled and turned away as he completed his stroke eliciting a soft moan from me. His very gentle motion combined with the slickness of the lube was painfully exquisite. By the time we reached the ground level several more people had entered. As they exited Mike pressed all the floors and we were off again.

We repeated our adventurous ride two more times before deciding we were way too close to finishing. Fortunately there was nobody around when we finally arrived back down and he slowly withdrew from me letting a trail of lube begin flowing down my legs. Only the little wet spot on the dress betrayed Mike’s trying his level best to push out what little fluid I produced.

We both quickly finished the nasty on the way back up on the private elevator. I was so spent that Mike needed to carry me into our bedroom. My entire body was humming and I loved the feeling of the lube mixed with his sperm dripping down.

Mike helped me undress and we rested in bed, my head on his chest and my arm around him. Suddenly I began to giggle.

“What’s up with you?” He asked softly.

“I was just thinking. We should write a song and call it ‘Love in an Elevator’.”

“It’s been done already. Aerosmith…” He crooned.

After being pensive for a moment, I giggled again.

“You know?” I said with a snicker. “What we did was wrong on every level!” I chuckled.

“Well…” Mike laughed. “I guess we’ll just need to level up.”