Friday , December 9 2022

Sandy finds comfort through sex when trapped in an elevator.

Sandy moved back to the corner of the elevator as the two young black men stepped through the open doors. Her pulse quickened and her mind raced. She hated judging people she didn’t know but they were both dressed like thugs, with baggy, sagging jeans and tight tank tops. They were both loud and boisterous, two traits the quiet midwestern born mother of three abhorred. The hairs on the back of Sandy’s neck stood at attention while she kept her head down and pressed her back against the cold mirrored back wall.

The elevator doors closed and the heavyset brunette closed her pretty brown eyes for a moment, doing her best to relax as she struggled with her irrational fears. Sandy hated two things more than anything: confined spaces and elevators. Her breathing was deep and steady and her big, natural f cup breasts heaved.

“We got to get to the club quick before this Molly kicks in yo,” the taller, darker man said. He wasn’t a bad looking guy despite his tattoos and hardened smile. He had long dreadlocks framing a pleasant face with intelligent eyes and a strong muscular body. His thick arms were well defined and adorned with a myriad of monochromatic prison type tattoos. A thick gold chain was dMolestationd around his strong neck and his ebony flesh seemed to glisten from a fine sheen of sweat.

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