Getting Up, and Going Down.

         Getting Up, and Going Down

I had seen her in the office,
but we had never spoken.
About twenty-five, I guessed,
well worth a chicken chokin'.

The elevator was full that day,
and I was in the back.
She was jostled up against me,
bringing life to my tallywhack.

At age forty, my lower, brainless head,
didn't jump up as it had in the past.
But then it did, hard and rigid,
as it nudged her soft, sweet ass.

She tossed her shoulder-length mane of brown,
and glanced back over her shoulder,
then deliberately squirmed harder against me;
so I grew even bolder.

I lifted the back of her floral spring dress,
and gently rolled her panties down;
bent my knees, unzipped my pants,
and slipped her my throbbing crown.

She softly purred, back arched like a cat's,
and took me up to the hilt.
My hand cupped one of her firm young breasts.
God, the girl was built!

The elevator emptied on the eleventh floor,
leaving the girl and me alone.
We shuffled, united, to the door,
pressed the "stop" button, and sank with a moan.

She yanked the dress off over her head,
revealing bra-less, dark-nippled breasts,
disengaged, rolled to her back,
and mewed, "Cunnilingus!" to my distress.

Not an act I savor,
although young girls seem to expect it.
But I would tolerate the flavor,
knowing I'd get no nookie should I reject it.

I buried my face between her thighs,
and did what I thought I should.
It must have been acceptable,
'cause she shuddered and panted, "Gooood!"

I saw on her belly, in elaborate script,
a tattoo reading, "This side up."
"I had a kinky boyfriend," said she,
"And I want it no more in the butt."

She opened up her legs to me,
and I pierced her tongue-bathed, velvet twat.
And humped and thrust and screwed and pumped,
Until my wad was thoroughly shot.

As we dressed, I confessed to my recent conquest,
"I'm married and, well, this could be tricky."
"I really don't care," she replied with a yawn,
"All I wanted was a one-time quickie."

All my dreams of future sex with her died.
Hell, I couldn't even date her.
But I had my memories, and a certain pride,
of getting laid in an elevator.