Returning home from work just now, wearing a black and white flowing sundress and 5-inch black peep-toe stilettos, I wearily dragged my ass over to the elevator while still rocking my gigantic sunglasses; it was a rough fuckin day man. I hit the button, slumped my shoulders forward, and cocked my head back, as my body felt utterly defeated after working an involuntary 10-hour shift. As I stood there waiting for the elevator the thought randomly popped into my head that I was wearing a thong and that it’d be really fuckin hot if somebody in that instant literally swept me off my feet and fucked me out of my misery; I could sure use it.
Professional dress + stilettos + thong underneath = Perfect opportunity for a self-made porno.
Almost immediately as I start picturing this, the elevator doors open and inside the elevator is a tall and tan, SHIRTLESS, muscular man, standing at about 6 feet tall, with chiseled abs and chest, and broad shoulders. He had short black hair and hazel eyes. Umm, did God just answer my prayers? In complete shock over this Greek-god of a presence before me, I stood motionless staring into the elevator, not realizing that my jaw was dropped completely to the ground. Really, God, SHIRTLESS?! This could not have been any easier. Snapping out of it, I continue to drag my ass along into the elevator, hit “4,” and scurry to the opposite side of this Don Juan.
Him: Looks like you had a long day…
Me: *taking off my sunglasses to check him out* You have no idea man…how bout you?
Him: Me too…which is why I’m heading to the pool now… You work a full 9-5 today?
Me: *wondering why he hasn’t lifted up my dress to bend me over and ream me from behind yet* Try 6 – 5……AND I’m a therapist to drug-addict teenagers and gang-affiliated youth…
Him: *shaking his head* OOoooouch!! …that sounds rough. You should come meet me at the pool…I can definitely help you unwind and relax…
Me: *completely baffled at the fact that somebody is actually being creeper than me* Oh yeah? Maybe I’ll do that then…
Him: *slyly smirking* Maybe you should….
Me: *grinning back at the thought of having wild crazy nasty mid-afternoon pool sex* Ok…I’ll meetcha there *winking at him as he begins to get off the elevator and still wondering why I’m not currently getting off IN the elevator*
Holding my breath, I waited until the elevator door shut, waited ANOTHER five seconds, then finally exhaled and screamed, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!” while stomping my feet and flaring my arms around. Arriving on the fourth floor, I RACED out of the elevator and into my apartment, tossed my dress up over my head and onto the living room floor, unhooked my bra and tossed it into the kitchen, then ripped my gray leopard print thong off and threw it on top of my nightstand while rummaging through my underwear drawer for my bathing suit. Suddenly, out of nowhere, it hit me: Wait, this is not how the game works. No, no, no, you don’t just make obvious sexual advances at me in the elevator, tell me to meet you at the pool, and then I just show up! NO! We didn’t exchange names, we didn’t exchange numbers, we don’t know where the other lives. If there’s anything I enjoy more than a crazy, random, spur of the moment romp, it’s the waiting and teasing and torture that comes along with it.
Instead of getting into my bathing suit, I put on a wife-beater and granny panties. I’m not going down there. I already know I got him, why give in this fuckin fast? There’s no point. So, here I am, blogging about this Adonis of a man instead of having crazy, slow-motion, pool sex with him. Besides, I have a date with a 21-year-old tonight. I think I need to save my energy.
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