The Mail Room Handler

As she stepped into the elevator, she was completely oblivious to the mailroom handler standing there waiting to take the 28 story flight to 
the first floor with her.  The doors slid effortlessly together as she glanced over at the man standing next to her.  He paid her no mind,
looking at the lit numbers 27 then 26 then 25. 

Her eyes roamed his body, taking in every inch of his muscular form.  She gave herself a mental slap for being so naughty and thinking thoughts
of a mere mail handler.  She put her posture in check, and smoothed the front of her skirt.  This action gained the attention of the muscle man
and she became slightly uncomfortable within such close proximity of one who exuded an over-abundant supply of testosterone.

Before she knew it, one muscled arm extended itself toward the "stop" button on the elevator panel, and before she could ask, the elevator came
to a screeching halt.  She blinked back her surprise and he quirked a smile at her before bringing himself to stand fully before her.

He looked at her with hungry, brown eyes and his stare was insistent that she would have no choice but feel compelled to reach for his waist and unbuckle his belt..., which she did, slowly.  As she slid the belt from the belt loops of his faded blue jeans, he grabbed her hand and halted her action.

He grinned at her before taking the belt from her grasp and placing it between his teeth in order to secure it while he placed her hands behind
her back.

He leaned over and whispered to her, "leave them there for me."  Then he took the belt and slipped it behind her.  Surprisingly, he was able to
effortlessly secure her hands, gently but tight enough to deter any resistance. 

Her heart gave a slight jolt when he started to unbutton his shirt and expose the muscled flesh beneath. She slowly licked her lips in anticipation of his touch, his hungry assault upon her body.  As he slipped his shirt off over his shoulders, he made attempts to remove the
cuffs while his own hands remained behind his back, fully exposing the tanned flesh of a nicely toned torso.  She could resist no longer.  She
leaned over and placed her lips gently on his chest and whispered against the tautness of his muscled body, "God, touch me...please touch me!"

After having freed himself from his shirt, his arms came around front and as he slid his fingers through her soft, brown hair, his muscles
rippled underneath smooth, tanned skin.  He then lifted her face toward his by gently tugging on a handful of her hair.  "You ever did this in
an elevator before?"  he asked.

She shook her head no, realizing that she was being deceitful by not confessing that she was actually a virgin...never having been touched
before.  She wanted him to touch her, to feel her.  She couldn't tell what he saw in her eyes, but the fire was lit and he looked at her with
uncertainty just before she turned her own eyes away, as her cheeks burned with shame.

She thought he might untie her and push her away with disgust.  But, he was surprisingly gentle.  He slid his hands down the sides of her arms,
gently rubbing up and down in a comforting fashion.  He finally spoke again in what sounded like a strained voice, "You're a virgin."  It was
more a statement than a query.

Her heart was beating so fast that she felt he could hear it above her own feeble answer, "Yes."  She blinked back the tears that threatened to
spill over.  And just when she thought he might give a scathing remark, he slid his hands over her hips and under her skirt. 

He gently reached in with both hands underneath her silk panties and cupped both cheeks of her ass, rubbing them as he looked deep into her eyes.  She couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.  All she knew was that his motions were flawless and he moved around her body like it was his own, and she was on fire.

He looked at her hair and blew a few strands away from her face, his eyes wandering across her cheeks and then her lips, with the look of one
who might be appraising his property.  For the moment, that is what she had become...his property.  He was caring for her as if she were his one
and only possession in life. As he closed his eyes, she could feel the urgency in him when his lips finally came down on hers and he bit out
in frustration, "Damn you...!"

At that moment, she could tell that something was driving him, yet something was holding him back.  She knew that whatever was holding him
back, she wanted it to let go.  She wanted him to unleash his full force upon her and take her at once.  He finally looked up, eye smoldering with
desire.  "I can't do this to you, I'm sorry...I just can't.  You don't know what you are getting yourself into, you really don't."

She looked down at her exposed breasts and only then realized just how intimate he had become with her body.  With hands still tied behind her
back, she felt vulnerable with the exposure and his eyes refused to move their gaze from her mounds of flesh. "All I know is that I want you to keep touching me," she pleaded softly between feeble attempts to gain some composure.  He closed his eyes and she could sense the agony with his struggle to gain control over his own desires.

She arched her back while trying to relieve the pressure on her wrists and at that moment, his eyes darkened and his facial features turned
stone-like.  His gaze was fixated on the rise and fall of her breasts caused by the arching of her back.  His struggle was finally broken and he groaned as he gently lowered his head to her bosom.  There was no turning back now.  She could sense this man was not one to be stopped when he finally decided what he wanted.

Of the moments that followed, she would recall the fury and passion exchanged over the ripping of her $40 pair of panties! The moment was brief and quickly forgotten when he apologized profusely and slipped a folded hundred-dollar bill between her teeth to shut her up. She spat the bill to the floor and the realization that this heated exchange was turning her on was just too much for her to handle.

She leaned over and began assaulting his lips with gentle bites.  The shock that his mauling of her was so pleasurable did not go unnoticed. Yes, bondage, shame and power, these things she would grow to know as the ultimate combination in creating just the right fuck session for just the
right man in a remote location in just the right elevator. Anger and lust. Greed and narcissistic malice toward such a strong and muscular but probably not so smart man was indeed turning her on.

She wanted him to know that her feelings over him being a mere mail handler with no goals in life were despicable, but they existed none-the-less. She didn't care how good it was feeling, she knew that the only thing that this man could ever give her is a good fuck. She became very bold, and the words did finally escape her in a throaty whisper, "Yea, fuck me, mail boy."

She had no reason to believe that her whispered command would drive this man insane with anger, but it did. He stopped what he was doing and looked deep into her eyes with a fury that frightened her.  Then, something changed. His grin was alarming, almost devilish. She started to feel like she had made a huge mistake. Were the fury and the shame not as big a turn on for him? Was she wrong in reading him?

"Mail boy?" he chuckled as he started to unzip his blue jeans.

She finally stammered out, "Yes, that's what you do, right? You deliver mail in our building, right?"

As he dropped his blue jeans down to his ankles while feeling for the wetness between her legs, she gasped and tried to blink back the surprise
at how his touch shook her up and made her want to cry out for more. "No," he stated.

He then looked into her eyes again and confessed as he slowly slipped himself inside her, "I've been stopping the mail boy everyday on his route to your office and offering to special deliver yours...you see, I've had a crush on you ever since you started working here and it's the only way I felt that I could have a look at you on a daily basis."

He was stirring very intense feelings deep within her while gently opening her up with his tool, up until he had to force the tear through her hymen.  She screamed out in pain, but it was quickly replaced with pleasure from the gentle strokes that followed. Then he whispered into her ear as the intensity of the moment made her stiffen and she started to climax.

"Let me introduce myself," he insisted as he shoved himself deeper inside.  "I'm Joseph, the CEO of this company."