Top of the Rock

March 3, 2012

This post was supposed to be my post for The Black Door Press “Bare Your Sexual Soul Day”, but I missed the deadline. With all these fantasies floating around in my obscene little brain, I’ve decided to write it down and see if I can wing a late submission.

Aurelie’s recent separation provoked in her the overwhelming need for a change of scenery. A quick trip to New York City seemed to fit the bill perfectly for her. With one step out of the airport and into the urban jungle, her problems and preoccupations were lifted magically from her tired shoulders. She felt exuberant, young, sexy. New York had always had this arousing effect on her. So many people, so many throbbing, breathing, sweating bodies. Such an immense manifestation of Life! Her body seemed to tingle as she checked in to her hotel and was shuffled along by a bell-hop/male model to her beautiful suite. From home Aurelie had booked an appointment at The Spa, conveniently located on the 6th floor of her  hotel. After a light lunch of smoked salmon on toast and white wine, her body was pampered and pressed, scrubbed and waxed into what she had been prior to her marital problems…relaxed, refreshed. Radiant one might say.

So, it was with this long-lost radiance that Aurelie descended into the city searching for a perfect dress and great shoes. Little black dresses were not unusual in her closet, but another one always made her feel new. She found The Perfect Dress in under 45 minutes and the shoes in a boutique in the hotel lobby. The sheer fabric of the dress on her skin gave her goosebumps. Her own reflection in the mirror pleased her, which was quite unusual. The shoes were sexier than Angelina Jolie by a long shot. They seemed like an invitation, “Please come in.” She felt her own sexuality boiling under her skin. Wanting to bust out of every pore of her.

Aurelie’s evening plans were not exactly random. She had been at The Rainbow Room 20 years before with a lover now nothing more than a vague, yet lingering memory. As she got out of the yellow taxi and entered the GE Building, an underlying sexual tension slowly overcame her. The lobby was surprisingly quiet for a Thursday night. The only sign of life was a stodgy old security guard who quickly dismissed her into the awaiting art-deco elevator. As she waited, a presence behind her made her uneasy. As she entered into this confined space, she realized that she was not alone. Her companion was male, dark. She would not allow herself to look at him directly but his aura was warm and inviting. As the elevator rapidly ascended into the New York heaven, something delicious and unexpected happened.

It was around the 18th floor that life seemed to take a hard turn towards something better. Aurelie’s silent suitor took decisive action, his fingers pushing the emergency stop button of the elevator. As it came to a silent stop, Aurelie felt her desire mounting all around her like the warm fog of a hammam. His hands brushed her dress for a moment, then with grace he was under it all. His touch seemed to mimic her own, first on her panties and then slowly inching in with a delicate, slow stroke. She was far from the elevator, New York, herself. She was up above it. His fingers found her, soft, wet, begging for his hardness.

She didn’t know exactly how they got there, but suddenly she found herself on the 70th floor, her beautiful new shoes carrying her towards the panoramic view. It was at The Top of the Rocks that the Mystery Man planted her firmly against the fence overlooking all of New York. He bent her over like a doll and entered her briskly, as if he had better things to do with his time. He proceeded to pound away at her, thrusting his essence into her like one might try to impose an unlikely idea. Despite his lack of politesse, Aurelie was the happiest she could remember being. Ever.

Written by pivoine68 Posted in Erotica, Fantasies, Need, Uncategorized Tagged with altitude, change of scenery, elevator, fantasy, little black dresses, sex, stranger