The Stranger In The Elevator

Fiction writers: You’re stuck in an elevator with an intriguing stranger. Write this scene. Non-fiction writers: You’re stuck in an elevator with a person from your past. Write this scene.

It was a dark and deary monsoon day in the city. All around me I could see people scurrying to get inside their homes or shops or buildings or into their cars. Struggling to open an umbrella as the June rains came pouring down and washed the streets, the trees and surrounding vegetation and gave a much needed bath to the strays out on the road. Standing in this downpour I looked all around me and took in the scenes, the sun’s goodbye for the evening almost done and the moon quite not visible yet what with all the clouds providing a veil for the shy bride. I was getting myself a little wet but for the most part I was alright compared to most people on the road, due to my heavy coat that protected my shirt and jeans while my boots gave my feet ample protection. I walked slowly oblivious to the downpour, carrying a leather bag, and lit a cigarette as I walked towards the building that was my destination.

By the time I reached the building my cigarette was down to it’s stub so I flicked it into a puddle and searched my coat pockets for a small packet of strawberry flavoured gum I always keep hand with me. I popped the gum in my mouth and walked into the lobby and looked for an elevator. No sooner as I had pressed the button then – she walked up right next to me. With red hair and red lips, smooth white skin and a figure that could inspire a million painters & sculptors. She seemed to be a 12 on a scale of 10 and then some. She was dressed in a white jacket left open to reveal a tight blouse that accentuated her bosom and a black skirt that was long yet had as slit that showed off some fine leg. Her legs were supported on 5 inch heels that seemed sharper than daggers. She had been shopping I saw from the two bags that had the logos of a couple of the more expensive & chic designer wear. Apparently a resident of this building where as I was just visiting a client on business. The elevator car opened and we both stepped in and I got a whiff of her exquisite perfume while she, I hoped, got nothing more than the smell of the rains and some strawberry and none of the cigarette. She did not, it seemed to me, be bothered by anything. I politely asked her the floor she wanted and she replied “13, please!” Not so much said but breathed it, or so it sounded to me. I pressed 13 and 30,  the floor I was supposed to go to. As the elevator moved, I moved back and admired her body as much as I could without appearing to leer or stare. The view from the back was good as the view from the front.

Suddenly the lights went out in the elevator and we stopped moving. The sudden stop scared her a bit but the emergency lights came back on, almost as bright as it was before the lights went out. In vain I pressed the buttons but nothing changed. “It’s probably a power outage due to the rains” said I in a weak attempt at conversation. But she felt reassured and placed her bags to once corner. I removed my coat and folded it, placing it on top of my bag. She took off her jacket and did the same, conscious of the fact that I was not entranced by her deep chest. We stood there each in our corner and pretending not to look at each other. I didn’t even know her name but that was the least of my concerns. We stood for what seemed like an hour, the sexual tension heavy in the air. And then like two animals in heat, we grabbed at each other and melted into a kiss. My hands went on an exploration of the curves of her body and she had her arms around me and one of her hands plunged into my hair and held my face pressed towards her face. Hot kisses, wet kisses and the touching of tongues. After what seemed like ages we parted for air and then the elevator car started moving again. We composed ourselves and straightened our clothes. We couldn’t have been stuck in there for more than 45 minutes but it felt much longer. As she got off she looked at me with longing in her eyes and mouthed “Apartment number 4”! I grinned and said “60 minutes tops! I’ll be there”. She then smiled and walked away.

As the elevator closed I thought of calling my client and saying I got detained and would see them tomorrow. But I thought, it would just be for an hour or so, what the hell. This was an important client. So I steadied myself and went to my client’s apartment and it was business from then. After 50 minutes I feigned a headache and said goodbye and almost ran into the elevator. I went back to the 13th floor and looked for apartment # 4. I pressed the door bell and waited, pleased with myself and anticipating a night of lust. She opened the door, dressed in a silken dress that was neither covering her nor pretending to do so. “Come in” her voice whispered loudly at me and I stepped into the living room and removed my coat. As I turned around I saw her smiling face looking at me as she said “Finally I have you where I want you” and she pointed a gun to my chest.

Ok, I said to myself  “How are you gonna get out of this one?”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.