The Stranger in the Elevator When the Lights Went Out

I was traveling to Valencia for work, as I did every two or three months. I left the car in the hotel parking lot, grabbed my carry-on, and went up to reception to check in. A woman in front of me was finishing the same process, and one glance was enough to make me forget how tired I was from the journey.

She had black hair falling over her shoulders, the dark complexion of someone who lived near the sea, and a tight dark dress that left nothing to the imagination. High boots, a neckline that promised too much, and a way of leaning against the counter that radiated pure confidence. I looked at her longer than I should have.

She signed, collected her key card, and stepped aside. I went through the check-in process. I was wearing a suit in the middle of Valencia's July heat, suffocating, and all I wanted was to get to my room and rip off the clothes clinging to my back like a second skin.

I finished the paperwork and headed for the elevator. When I arrived, she was already there, waiting, her purse hanging from her shoulder and her eyes fixed on the descending numbers. The heat was unbearable, but discreetly looking at her distracted me from my suffering.

The doors finally opened. She stepped inside and turned toward the panel. I got in behind her and said hello.

“Good afternoon,” I said.

“Good afternoon,” she replied with a brief smile.

I stood behind her. The elevator began to rise slowly and, without warning, stopped dead between two floors. The light flickered once and went out completely. We were left in darkness.

She pressed the buttons one after another, but nothing happened. She groped for the emergency bell and pressed it. Several long seconds passed before we heard a distant voice, a receptionist asking us to stay calm: the power had gone out throughout the neighborhood, and it would take them a while to get us out.

“Well,” I said, trying to sound calm, “I guess we'll have to wait. My name's Daniel.”

“Lorena,” she replied.

“A pleasure.”

“The pleasure's mine.”

Soon the emergency lights came on, a dim yellowish glow that cast shadows across her face. The delay made me doubt how efficient the hotel service would be. We were alone, trapped, and it was beginning to feel like an oven.

We both paced back and forth inside the compartment like caged lions. Fortunately, the elevator was spacious, one of those designed for luggage and carts, which gave us enough room not to brush against each other at every step.

A whole hour passed and nothing changed. I couldn't stand wearing my jacket anymore, so I took it off along with my tie and folded them on top of my suitcase. We kept pacing, making the occasional comment about how badly everything was organized and how absurd the situation was.

Then I noticed Lorena grimacing in pain every time she put her foot down. The boots were killing her. I laid my suitcase on its side and spread my jacket over it.

“Lorena, sit here,” I offered. “You can rest your feet.”

“There's no need, really,” she said.

“We might be stuck in here for hours. You'll be more comfortable sitting than standing.”

She looked at me suspiciously, as if sizing me up, but in the end she sat on the suitcase, her back against the wall. She let out a sigh of relief that revealed just how much those boots were weighing on her.

The heat kept rising. Lorena took off her boots and left them to one side. She was wearing short white socks and, without meaning to, my gaze traveled up her legs until I forced myself to look away. This wasn't the time or place for that, I told myself, although my body had a different opinion.

The hours passed and we were both sweating openly. She shifted uncomfortably, fanned herself with her hand, and looked at me.

“If you don't mind, I'm going to take off my dress,” she said. “I'm wearing a bikini underneath; I was out for the day.”

“Of course, of course,” I replied, swallowing hard. “Whatever you need to be more comfortable.”

She took off her socks first, then stood up just enough to pull the dress over her head. She folded it carefully and left it on top of her boots. I looked at her from the corner of my eye and saw that body barely covered by two triangles of fabric, and the heat I felt had stopped having anything to do with summer.

Don't look, Daniel. Don't look.

“You're going to melt too in that sweat-soaked shirt,” she said, pointing at me. “Why don't you take it off? Put your clothes on the floor and sit on them. It's not like anyone can see us here.”

“I mean, I’m not wearing swim trunks,” I said, half-joking.

“But you are wearing underwear, right? It's practically the same thing.”

She had a point—or I wanted her to. I took off my shoes, trousers, and shirt, and was left in my underwear and socks. I spread my clothes on the floor and sat beside her, trying to maintain a distance that was already beginning to seem impossible.

“You should take off the socks too,” she said, holding back a laugh. “Underwear and socks isn't the best combination I've ever seen.”

“If you want, I can take off my underwear too,” I said, playing along.

“Don't hold back on my account,” she replied, and burst out laughing.

I took off my socks and left them in a pile. We started talking about random things to kill time. She told me she'd arranged to meet a man at the hotel to spend the day at the beach, but things hadn't gone as she'd expected. I told her I was from Seville, that my job forced me to spend half the year in hotels, and that I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so uncomfortable and so at ease at the same time.

***

While we talked, I tried not to look at her too much. But then, almost without my realizing it, she began brushing her foot against mine. She did it as if nothing were happening while she told me about that frustrating day, speaking naturally. I was barely listening. All I could feel were her toes stroking mine, slowly, deliberately.

She kept talking while I stared straight ahead, pretending to be interested, until I felt an erection taking shape beneath my underwear that there was no way to hide anymore. My cock was getting hard as a rock, pushing the fabric upward, and no matter how much I tried to disguise it by crossing my legs, the bulge was impossible to conceal. Lorena noticed, lowered her gaze, and laughed. I apologized, mortified.

“Relax,” she said, moving a little closer. “It's natural.”

As she said it, she placed her hand over my crotch, through the fabric, and began stroking me slowly. I stopped breathing. Her fingers traced the length of my cock through my underwear, squeezing it, measuring it, and I felt it swell even more beneath her palm.

“What a surprise you were hiding there,” she murmured, her mouth very close to my ear. “You've got a really fat cock, you bastard. You're making my mouth water.”

“Fuck, Lorena,” I managed to say, my voice hoarse. “If you keep that up, I won't be responsible for what happens.”

“That's exactly what I want—that you won't be responsible.”

She leaned forward and asked me to undo her bikini top. I did it with fingers made clumsy by nerves. She got rid of the top and, before me, two perfect, round breasts appeared, their nipples dark and hardened by the heat. Just seeing them drove me wild. I lunged at one and took it entirely into my mouth, sucking it eagerly, nibbling the nipple until she let out a muffled moan and pressed my head against her skin. I switched to the other and did the same, tugging her nipple with my teeth while my hand kneaded the free breast.

“Keep going, like that, don't stop,” she panted, arching her back.

She slipped her hand inside my underwear, and I felt her touch my skin directly, with no fabric between us. She closed her fingers around my cock, stroked it up and down a couple of times, and I felt a thread of pre-cum wet her palm. Carefully, she tugged the waistband down and freed me completely, leaving me pointing toward the ceiling, hard and throbbing.

“My God,” she murmured, looking at it up close. “What a monster cock.”

She sat up and knelt between my legs. She looked into my eyes for a second before leaning down, sticking out her tongue, and giving me one long lick from my balls to the tip of my glans. She repeated the motion two, three times, then put the tip in her mouth, sucking only the head while masturbating me with her hand at the same time.

I could feel her breasts pressed against my thighs as her mouth moved up and down with a skill I hadn't expected. She licked it, kissed it, took it all the way down her throat until her chin bumped against my balls. I heard the wet sound she made each time she swallowed me whole, how she gagged a little and came back for more, her eyes watering and a string of saliva hanging from her chin. She pulled my cock from her mouth and spat on it, then used it to rub her face, wetting her lips and cheeks with her own saliva.

“I love it,” she whispered between licks. “I love having it in my mouth.”

I was in another world, my head against the elevator wall and my eyes closed, letting myself be carried away by a situation no sane mind would ever have planned.

With one hand she held the base of my cock while with the other she touched herself between the legs. She had pushed aside the bikini fabric and was sliding two fingers into her pussy while sucking my cock. I heard her moaning softly with her mouth full, and the sound aroused me even more. When she pulled out her fingers, they were shining and soaked. She brought them to my mouth, and I sucked them, tasting her wetness for the first time, salty and thick.

“It's delicious,” I told her. “I want to taste it straight from the source.”

I laid her on her back on the clothes, ripped off her bikini bottoms, and spread her legs wide. Her pussy was shaved, pink, and gleaming with how wet she was. I buried myself between her thighs and began eating her without restraint, licking her lips, pushing my tongue deep inside, then moving up to her clitoris to catch it between my lips and suck it. She screamed, grabbed my hair, and pressed my face against her pussy as if she wanted me to suffocate inside her.

“Yes, yes, like that, eat all of me, don't stop, fuck,” she panted, thrusting her hips against my mouth.

I slid two fingers inside her while continuing to suck her clitoris, curling them to find exactly the right spot. Within seconds I felt her whole body tense, her thighs clamping against my ears as she came screaming, soaking my face with a hot gush that ran down my chin.

Then she stood up, pushed me back against the wall again, and, moving aside what remained of her bikini, sat on me and guided me inside. She was drenched. My cock sank into her all at once, and she let out a long, guttural moan as she settled astride me, her breasts pressed against my chest.

“You fill me so well, fuck,” she whispered against my mouth. “You reach all the way inside me.”

She began moving slowly, setting a leisurely rhythm that drove me crazy. She rose until only the tip remained inside, then dropped herself hard, taking all of me as she sat down. I held her by the waist and set the pace myself, forcing her to ride me faster, watching her tits bounce in front of my face. I leaned forward and caught one nipple between my teeth while she moaned and dug her nails into my back.

I felt myself slide all the way inside her and come back out, wet and tight, while she rose and fell, rubbing herself against me and grinding her clitoris against the base of my cock every time she came down. On impulse I stood up with her wrapped around me, gripping her with both arms beneath her ass, and pressed her against the elevator wall, holding her suspended in the air.

“Fuck me like that, hard, break me,” she asked in my ear, biting my earlobe.

I began thrusting up into her with all the strength I had, raising and lowering her on my cock as if she weighed nothing. The sound of our skin slapping together filled the elevator, mixed with her increasingly high-pitched moans. I felt her pussy tightening more and more around me, her whole body beginning to tremble.

Her increasingly loud moans drove me to move harder. She dug her nails into my shoulders, buried her face in my neck, and, shaking, came with a scream muffled against my skin. I felt her pussy contract around my cock in waves, felt a hot gush run down my balls and thighs.

I set her down again, still breathless, her legs trembling. I turned her around, stood her against the wall, and made her arch her back so she could stick out her ass properly. I spanked her twice, the smacks echoing inside the compartment, watching the imprint of my hand appear on her pale flesh.

“Put it in me, please,” she begged, looking at me over her shoulder. “Put all of it in me.”

I grabbed her hips and, with her whispered consent, penetrated her from behind in a single thrust. I felt her tighten around me as I moved in and out, faster and harder each time. I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, forcing her to arch farther while I kept thrusting into her. She touched herself with her right hand, setting her own rhythm over her clitoris, and the two of us lost ourselves in it as if the outside world had ceased to exist.

“Like that, like that, give it all to me, don't stop,” she repeated, her cheek pressed against the wall.

I drove my cock all the way in until my balls touched her, then pulled almost completely out before thrusting again with everything I had. I felt my balls strike her clitoris with every thrust, and from the wet, viscous sound, I knew she was dripping. I put my thumb in my own mouth to wet it, then pressed it against her asshole, pushing slowly until I buried it inside her. She moaned even louder, thrusting her ass backward to take more of it.

“You filthy slut, look how much you like it,” I growled in her ear without stopping fucking her.

“Yes, I'm a slut, your slut. Don't stop, come inside me, please, come inside me.”

Just as we were both about to finish, at the exact moment when pleasure made us forget where we were, I heard a metallic screech. The elevator doors began opening from above. The firefighters had arrived.

They caught us both naked, sweaty, and tangled against the wall, with no time to do anything. The firefighter's face appearing through the gap said it all. Lorena let out a nervous laugh as she tried to reach her dress, while I covered myself as best I could with my hands, my cock still hard and dripping, wishing the earth would swallow me whole.

I never saw her again. We didn't exchange phone numbers or surnames, and there was no need. Those hours trapped in the dark had been exactly what they were meant to be: an impossible encounter between two strangers whom chance—and a blackout—had decided to bring together. Even today, every time I enter a hotel elevator and it takes a second too long, I can't help remembering Lorena, the taste of her pussy, and the way she squeezed my cock as she came.