Elevator Ch. 01 Justine

Penelope Cashmore had not so long ago celebrated her sixtieth birthday but she was still a good looking woman. She exuded sophistication and was always elegantly dressed and manifested an antique charm. She was repeatedly told that she looked very much like the British actress Joanna Lumley and spoke with the same plum in her voice. Penelope was a modest woman who was not easily flattered.

Today she was visiting her lawyers in the Prudential Building and was wearing a mauve Chanel suit consisting of a tight pencil skirt and form-fitting jacket. She wore a cream satin blouse, black Christian Louboutin high heels and had accessorised sparingly with gold jewellery. Her makeup was perfect, black eyeliner and mascara, blended green and mauve eyeshadow, rouged cheeks, ruby-red Maybelline long-lasting lipstick.

But it what was what she was wearing under her suit that would have surprised her legal staff. Penelope loved the fit and feel of retro lingerie. It reminded her of when she was young woman and much sought after by the gentrified lotharios at her father’s country club although she had saved her virtue for her wedding night.

She was wearing a red satin half-cup brassiere, red silk French-cut camiknickers, a black satin suspender belt with six garters, and elegant, silken-sheer, fully-fashioned black stockings. The backseams and Cuban-heel ankle welts of her stockings often turned the heads of the more discerning gentlemen who wondered if they were pantyhose or were indeed the real thing.

Penelope kept her well-tended platinum-blonde hair long and coiffured; for business she wore it piled high on her head with bangs cut level with her eyebrows.

Her jealous friends called her mutton dressed as lamb but she didn’t care; she had looked after herself and refused to dress like an old biddy even though she was entering her golden years.

She stood waiting for the elevator in deep discussion with her top attorney. The elevator arrived and the door opened and she was only vaguely aware of a man in dark suit standing at the back of the elevator. The overhead lights didn’t appear to be working properly and the man was enveloped by shadows.

The man looked dismayed to see Penelope talking to her lawyer which delayed her entrance into the car. The door started to close and the man leapt forward and pressed the button to keep the doors open.

“No need young man; I’ll take the next one,” Penelope said distractedly.

The man kept his finger on the button, keeping the door open, willing the woman to get in the car.

Penelope finally noticed that man was holding the elevator for her and she smiled in his direction briefly although she couldn’t quite see his face.

“Look Charles, this nice gentleman, and there are few of them left, is holding the lift for me. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she offered her hand to the lawyer who took it graciously.

The man noticed the woman’s long elegant fingers and long red-painted fingernails. Her use of the word ‘lift’ gave away her inclination to spend half of the year in London even though she was an American citizen.

“Shall I accompany you to your car Miz Cashmore?” the lawyer offered courteously.

“Oh no Charles, I’d like you to start on the directions I gave you for my will as soon as possible please. When you are done please contact my secretary Cicely,” Penelope smiled at the man in the dark suit.

The man with his back pressed against the wall of the elevator holding the door open was not happy. It was not supposed to be like this. The woman should have got into the elevator car immediately and paid him no attention until it was too late.

The man breathed a sigh of relief when Penelope stepped into the car, bringing with her a miasma of perfume and then the elevator began its descent. He moved to the back of the elevator and looked down at his phone and sent a pre-scripted text message and then switched his phone to flight mode.

A technician in the lobby of the prudential Building had the control panel for the bank of elevators open and appeared to be busy poking at the wiring looms with a screwdriver when he received a text message on his phone. He looked at the text and sighed.

This was not the first time he had carried out the instructions given to him by the mysterious man in the elevator. The first time had been about a month ago in the early evening when a thirty-nine year old businesswoman named Justine had been the victim. Trapped in the elevator between the twelfth and thirteenth floor after a busy day in the office, the mysterious man had sexually assaulted her; although she had become complicit and had orgasmed and was too ashamed to report the incident.

The second time, two weeks later, a twenty-three year old secretary named Sally heading up to the eleventh floor after working out in the basement gym had been sexually violated when the elevator stopped between floors. She had been fucked hard through her slinky gym tights and enjoyed a nearly overwhelming orgasm once she stopped fighting and surrendered herself to the mysterious stranger.

The technician knew that he was an accomplice in what could legally be construed as rape. The stranger was lucky that neither of the women had filed a complaint and for that matter so was the technician. The stranger had a hold over him and blackmailed him into becoming his accomplice. The stranger hung around the lobby of the Prudential Building and carefully selected his victims. He followed them and got to know their habits and their routines.

Justine and Sally had been easy prey because the two women were creatures of habit. But Penelope Cashmore was a totally different kettle of fish. She was high-born, moneyed and came from a prominent family. She actually owned four floors of the Prudential Building including the thirty-sixth floor where her late husband’s law firm had their practice.

The stranger was crazy to take Penelope Cashmore; it was far too risky but the technician had no choice but to carry out his orders. The stranger held a sword of Damocles over his head and he could drop it at any time.

The technician watched the digital readout for the elevator which serviced the thirty-sixth floor. There was only one serviceable car because he had disabled the other and an ‘out of service’ sign hung on the entrance doors. The idiots in the lobby naturally assumed the technician was working on the faulty elevator.

The technician had been instructed to stop the elevator between floors before it reached the twelfth floor and to prevent it from stopping at any of the floors in between. Mrs Penelope Cashmore was at the mercy of the stranger but she had no idea of her fate.

The technician reread the text the message on his phone and sighed and watched the elevators car’s descent on the digital readout. He made a switch inside the control panel and the elevator car containing the stranger and Penelope Cashmore shuddered to a halt and the remaining overhead lights extinguished.

Penelope Cashmore gave an exasperated sigh when the elevator suddenly stopped and the lights went out. It was pitch-black.

“We’ve been having trouble with these lifts over the last couple of months. Management has been receiving so many complaints about them that I don’t know why they don’t just replace them,” Penelope said into the dark.

The words were said as much to comfort herself as to inform the stranger.

“Do you have one of those mobile telephones young man? I refuse to carry the infernal things; I have my secretary carry mine for me, I find them quite tiresome,” she announced in her clipped British-American accent.

The man said nothing. He stepped in close behind Mrs Cashmore and held up his phone to her face so she could see there was no reception. Mrs Cashmore knew nothing about ‘flight mode’ and had no idea what the little aeroplane symbol meant but she knew that if there were no little bars the phone wouldn’t work.

The man smiled in the dark. The woman’s naivety almost made it too easy.

He directed the screen of his phone towards the emergency phone and reached around Penelope to press the red call button. Mrs Cashmore was uncomfortable with the man being so close behind her that she could feel his body pressing lightly against hers and feel his breath on her neck. The man’s breath was sweet and minty and his aftershave was exotic, something musky, but he was still too close for comfort.

The man knew that the technician had deactivated the call button and the telephone but the charade served its purpose. The man was able to feel Mrs Cashmore’s well-rounded bottom against his thigh and in the light of the phone he could see the seams of her stockings running down her legs. He began to become tumescent in anticipation.

“Well? Anything? Has a cat got your tongue?” Mrs Cashmore was not used to being ignored and his silence irritated her.

The man rapped the phone against the side of the callbox and put it to his ear and then hung it up, demonstrating that it was useless.

“Typical,” Mrs Cashmore tutted.

The man put his phone back in the inside pocket of jacket and the elevator became dark again.

“I suppose we will have to wait!” Penelope tapped her foot anxiously on the linoleum floor.

The man’s presence, which had at first been comforting, now seemed menacing. Penelope could feel him looming behind her; the car seemed to shrink and become claustrophobic. The man’s silence was vexing. Mrs Cashmore took a step forward and her nose bumped into the polished steel elevator door.

“Shithouse mouse!” she cried; which was the most obscene that Mrs Cashmore’s language ever got.

She pressed her palms against the doors and took a step back.

Mrs Cashmore collided with the stranger, her back pressing into his muscled chest and her buttocks chafing against his groin. Before Mrs Cashmore could move away the man put his hands on her hips and held her still.

“Yes. Probably best if I stop crashing around in the dark,” Mrs Cashmore said confidently, although inside she was becoming very apprehensive.

Once again she became aware of the man’s breath on her neck and the scent of his cologne. Her own perfume was strong and the man breathed it deeply into his lungs. He pressed his groin forward and Mrs Cashmore suddenly became aware that the man was pushing his erection into her buttocks.

“Stop that and step back please!” Mrs Cashmore said using a clipped, authoritative voice.

She was a woman who was used to being obeyed.

The man gripped her hips tighter and began to grind his cock against her soft buttocks. Her tight skirt slid easily across her slinky camiknickers and the swishing sound it made seemed extraordinary loud in the quiet elevator.

“Please stop,” Penelope whispered, realising that her authority meant nothing in her current situation.

She shuddered when she felt the man’s fingers slide across her skirt and come to rest in his groin and she heard the ominous sound of a zip being undone.

“Stop that right now!” Mrs Cashmore hissed.

She considered screaming but she knew that no one would hear her. The indignity of a woman of her age and means screaming helplessly in the dark because she was scared of some lower-class ruffian appalled her. Mrs Cashmore would not stoop so low. Surely this wretch could be brought to heel.

But the man didn’t stop. She felt him slide her skirt up her firm thighs, exposing her soft creamy buttocks clad in the red silk French-cut camiknickers. Suddenly the man’s phone sprung to life, the screen softly illuminating the couple clenched together in the elevator car. The man had taken it from his coat pocket. He wanted to see what he was doing and he put the phone down in the emergency telephone callbox so that it shone on Mrs Cashmore’s body.

“Enough now!” Penelope barked when she felt the man’s hard cock nestle in the cheeks of her buttocks and began to rub on her knickers.

Mrs Cashmore had last had sex over ten years ago. It was with the late Mr Cashmore whose libido and interest in her was waning. She comforted herself with the thought that her husband’s flagging salacity had nothing to do with him being no longer being attracted to her; it was simply his age catching up. She had since found out that right up until the day he died he had chased his legal secretaries around the office and had shagged more than a few of them.

Since then she had been celibate and the feel of this man’s cock against her buttocks was quite unsettling. The man began to thrust vigorously against her silken-clad pillowy mounds and he delighted in the feel of her knickers and her soft flesh on his sensitive cock. His cock was bloated to full tumescence.

Penelope Cashmore stood stock still as the stranger clutched her hips and drove his cock along the crease of her buttocks. She knew that she was totally unable to fight off this fit young man so she decided to let him satisfy himself against her derriere if that’s what he desired. The full force of the law and her legal team would cripple the man once the elevator car started moving and arrived at the ground floor. The security guards would take the man into custody.

“You are despicable sir! Taking advantage of a matron such as myself is a cowardly act,” Penelope Cashmore hissed as the man settled into a slow sensuous rhythm.

The man just smiled and enjoyed the sensation of his cock rubbing on the cool, silky underwear while he watched his penis slide effortlessly against Mrs Cashmore’s knicker-clad ass. He admired the ruby-red shiny fabric as his cock began to darken the material as he secreted precum on the delicate garment. His hands left her hips and stroked the black satin suspender belt and traced the garters to the gauzy welts of her stocking tops.

Penelope began to struggle and tried to slap his hands away but he kept her pinned to the door while he caressed her thighs and poked his hard cock into her cleft.

“You pathetic man!” Penelope hissed but the man didn’t care.

He followed the seams of her nylons down the back of her knees where he stroked the little wrinkles in her nylon stockings. Mrs Cashmore would never admit it to anyone but it felt like butterflies were caressing the back of her legs.

She bit her lip and tried to slap his hands away.

Penelope’s fully-fashioned stockings felt wonderfully silky and sexy as the man caressed the back of her legs. His fingers stroked the delicate hosiery while his cock swished against her camiknickers.

He heard Mrs Cashmore gasp and was unsure if it was a cry of despair or delight but he didn’t care. He moved his hands back up Penelope’s body and she gave a sigh of relief as his hands left her intimate parts and rested on her shoulders. His penis was no longer pressing between her buttocks.

Maybe the man had finished? She hadn’t felt him ejaculate but maybe he had no intention of doing so. It didn’t matter. Even if she couldn’t recognise the man or if he escaped from the security in the lobby, she had his DNA on her intimates. She would have her lawyers find him and have him prosecuted to full extent of the criminal law. Then she would cripple him with a civil suit.

Penelope froze. The man was nuzzling her cheek and his hands had moved to her breasts, massaging them though her satin blouse. She tried to pull down her skirt but the man slapped her hands away and pressed her into the cold steel doors so she couldn’t move.

He took away her handbag and then his slowly unbuttoned her jacket and pulled it off her and tossed it aside and began to unbutton her blouse as his lips softly kissed her neck and nuzzled her earlobes. The man was very excited and had stopped dry-humping Mrs Cashmore’s plump bottom because he was afraid he would come. He would play with her tits instead. The feel of her fully-clothed body dressed in the retro lingerie was excitingly arousing. The men knew he was pressed for time but he didn’t want to rush. This sexy matron with her overbearing aristocratic pomp being at his mercy was an opportunity to be savoured.

Try as she might Mrs Cashmore could not prevent the stranger from unbuttoning her blouse. She heard him gasp when his hands found her ample breasts supported by the satin half-cup brassiere.

“You sir are a cad and a bounder,” Penelope gasped in a shrill voice as he popped her fat teats from the cups of her brassiere.

He squeezed them softly and Mrs Cashmore gasped. His thumbs thrummed her nipples and they hardened to his touch. The man smiled and nuzzled her neck. He pressed his cock against her trim buttocks and massaged her breasts. He ground his cock in in a circular fashion mimicking his hands on her full creamy bosom.

The last two women the man had raped had firm perky breasts but Penelope Cashmore’s sixty year old baps were full and a little saggy; not that the man minded. He liked the feel of her soft flesh and the contrast of her hard nipples. In the dim light he could see that her bosoms were alabaster white while her areolas were dark pink and her hard nipples almost brown. He flicked the nipples with his thumbs and moved his mouth down her neck to the hollow of her shoulder. Her blouse was fully open her skirt up around her waist, the woman was his for the taking.

Penelope Cashmore tried her best to suppress the rings of pleasure radiating from her nipples as the man expertly stroked and caressed them. For ten years her breasts had merely been a part of a body she kept locked away except for her regular check-ups and now this man was igniting deep sensual feelings in her nipples and areolas that she hadn’t felt for years. The sensations were both delightful and disturbing. The feel of the man’s soft lips on her nape and now in the hollow of her neck was something she hadn’t felt since she was young woman.

The feel of his hot steely phallus pressing on her buttocks through her knickers awakened and amplified feelings she hadn’t felt since college where she had met her husband to be. He had fumbled with her in the back of his roadster and she had allowed him to touch her intimate parts but only through her underwear; her virtue would not be his until their wedding night. She had understood his needs and not wanted him to stray so she had used her hand to relieve him and had giggled like a schoolgirl the first time his hot spend had spattered on her sleeve and dribbled on her legs, soaking into her expensive silk stockings.

Penelope Cashmore shook her head to clear away those thoughts. This was not her paramour pressing his needs on her while she denied him her virtue. This was some ruffian who was ravaging her in an elevator car.

But then the man stepped back and Penelope gasped and mumbled a short prayer. The man had come to his senses at last!

But he was not finished with her. The worst was yet to come.

The man spun her around and her high heel caught in the ancient linoleum and she fell into his arms. Instinctively she clung to him to stop herself from falling.

The feel of this partially clad matron, her soft creamy breast pressing into him, her stocking-sheathed leg hooked around his to prevent her from falling, the scent of her perfume and the look of apprehension on her elegant face with the heavy makeup framed by the blonde updo triggered the man’s desire to have her.

The man pulled her close and lowered his face to hers and kissed sixty year old Penelope Cashmore as if she were a teenage girl. Her lips were soft and he could taste her lipstick; she was trying valiantly to stop him but if she released her grip she would fall in the dark so she had no choice but to cling to the ruffian.

His hands went instinctively to her thighs and he stroked them, savouring the feel of her silky nylons, his tongue slipped into her mouth and she tasted sweet, he moved his hands to her ample buttocks and squeezed.

Not since her thirties had Mrs Cashmore been held like this by a young muscular bodied man and although his face was hidden in the shadows she had discerned his chiselled features, thick lustrous hair and deep blue eyes. Every instinct in her body told her to fight off this hoodlum but deep feelings in parts of her body that had been dormant for years had suddenly become awake.

The caress of his fingers on her silken-encased thighs, his fingertips groping her knickered buttocks and her full breasts, the nipples still fully erect pressing against his starched white shirt, his lips pressing urgently on hers and his tongue sliding into her mouth awakened passions she felt were long dead.

Then the volcano of desire that had been fallow for so long began to awaken. She was no fool. Penelope knew that she wouldn’t give this man the time of day under any other circumstances and was well aware that this man was raping her despite her submission to the onslaught of sexual desire he was drawing from her. She would have her revenge but for now she would surrender.

Mrs Penelope Cashmore opened her mouth a little and accepted the man’s tongue and greeted it with her own. Her hands were locked behind his neck, her back pressed to steel elevator doors so she was able to lift up her legs and lock them around him, clinging to him, feeling his hard cock pressing on her mons through her knickers.

The man was a little surprised but not entirely. The other two women he had taken advantage of in this elevator had eventually succumbed to his advances so why shouldn’t this frustrated old matron who exuded sexuality that she was hardly aware of.

He kissed her deeply and supported her thighs as his cock pressed on the front of her knickers. He could feel her hairy bush and the folds of her old cunt though the silk as pressed his cock into her.

Then the man was taken by complete surprise when Penelope guided his penis inside the leg of her knickers and positioned his leaking glans inside her labia.

Mrs Cashmore would deny that she had done such a thing but the truth was she was frustrated. Her breasts were on fire and deep in her sex a fire was building. Feelings she hadn’t felt for so long were bubbling to the surface. No; that wasn’t true! These were feelings she had never felt before.

The man pressed his cock into her arid, stale sex. The entrance to her vagina felt like it was sealed shut she was so dry. The old woman was clinging to him, sucking on his mouth, her thighs gripped him desperately and she was rubbing her breasts against him like a slattern. She was obviously intensely aroused but her cunt was a desert.

The man returned her kisses and stroked her stocking-clad thighs then lowered his face to her nipples, then kissed her again. He could sense that she wanted him inside her so badly but her vagina was sealed like a vault. His cock was leaking pre-ejaculate and he rubbed it into her vulva, his sensitive glans delighting in the feel of the thick vaginal folds that clutched at his cock. His glans found her clitoral hood and a dewy droplet of precum dropped onto the sensitive nubbin as his cock pressed down on it.

He ground his cock against Mrs Cashmore’s clitoris and felt her body begin to quiver and shake. He jabbed at the entrance to her vagina but it refused him entry. He pressed a little harder and his glans slipped inside her, it’s entry eased by his pre-ejaculate. Mrs Cashmore gasped and tightened her legs around his body and pressed herself against him, slowly and painfully impaling herself on his rampant manhood.

For the man it was like forcing his cock into a dry spongy tunnel.

But then he felt a trickle of sweet cunny juice ooze around his clenched cock.

The volcano erupted.

Mrs Cashmore actually cried out as her vaginal secretions gushed forth. Waves of pleasure radiated from her clitoris and she humped her groin into the man’s pubis to increase her pleasure.

The man wriggled his hips a little to baste his cock in her vaginal juices.

Mrs Cashmore’s cunt had been barren for over ten years and despite her sixty years it was tight, warm and buttery and the men felt it mould to his penis like a satin glove.

“Fuck me you degenerate!” Mrs Cashmore hissed and bit his ear.

The man needed no more encouragement and he began to forcibly fuck the old woman. Her lips were soft; her nipples hard, her long sexy legs locked around him, her face elegant but strained in the dim light as long forgotten wantonness washed over her and took charge.

The man’s cock felt huge inside her tight cunt and Mrs Cashmore wriggled her bottom like a speared animal, adjusting her position so that the head of his penis pounded her G-spot while the base of it pressed on her clitoris.

She locked her ankles behind the man and met his thrusts, forcing his cock deeper inside her tight wet tunnel. She kissed him harder to muffle her cries of wanton lust, her long fingernails raked his neck and shoulders.

The man could hold back no longer and he slammed Penelope Cashmore into the hard steel doors and pushed his cock inside her as far as it would go and ejaculated stream after stream of hot viscous semen. Penelope felt his cock shudder deep inside her and the gush of his spend as the man climaxed. It triggered her own orgasm and she held on tight and rode the deep, lustful crescendo with him. The man’s semen dribbled from her cunt and ran down her ass crack and thighs, soaking into her knickers and stockings but she cared not.

She was kissing him with abandon, grinding her pubis into his, enjoying the most fulsome and explosive organs she had ever experienced.

The man felt Mrs Cashmore’s cunt quiver and undulate as it gripped his penis and milked him of his issue. He kissed her passionately and squeezed her buttocks as she mumbled obscenities into his mouth.

The elevator became suddenly quiet as their orgasms receded like a wave retreating from the shore. Mrs Cashmore unhooked her ankles from behind the man’s back and he lowered her legs gently to the floor. She stood still for a while with her hands pressed to his chest, the last vestiges of her climax still curdling deep inside her. Her cunt felt bruised and tender from being vigorously used after being dormant for so many years.

She cleared her throat and adjusted her brassiere and slowly began to button her blouse. The man helped her and fetched her jacket from the floor of the elevator and shook the wrinkles out of it. She pulled her skirt down and straightened it; there was nothing she could do about her soaked knickers and semen-stained stockings until she got home. She picked up her handbag and took out a compact and fixed her makeup as best she could in the dim light.

The man had put his penis away and zipped his flies but she was very aware of his presence and of the potent dangerous weapon he kept in his pants. It was frightening but it was thrilling at the same time.

The man picked up his phone, cancelled flight mode and sent another pre-programmed text.

Mrs Penelope Cashmore turned and faced the doors to the elevator her face set with grim determination when the lights suddenly came on and the elevator shuddered and then continued its descent.

Her mind was in turmoil. The man had forced himself on her but then she had submitted to him and behaved like a slattern. She would likely win a criminal or civil conviction if she brought this man to justice but she would have to explain her actions in court. She would have to describe their encounter in detail.

The elevator arrived at the lobby and Mrs Cashmore reached out and pressed the button to keep the doors closed when they slowly began to open. She spun around and faced the man who had ravaged her, looking up into his handsome chiselled face with deep blue piercing eyes.

She slapped him hard across the cheek.

“You sir are a cad!” she hissed.

The man was caught unaware. His modus operandi was to leap from the elevator and make his escape but for some reason he was frozen and rooted to the spot.

Penelope Cashmore lifted herself onto her tippytoes and leaned into the man and kissed him softly on lips.

“Thank you for awakening something inside that I had forgotten existed,” she whispered in her soft British accent.

She slipped a business card with her home phone number written in ink on the back into his lapel pocket and left the elevator as soon as the doors opened leaving behind only her scent.