The Elevator

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A dutiful secretary doesn't spill a drop.
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"I need you to switch my three o'clock and my four o'clock around, I won't get out of here by five otherwise," said Mr. Smith as we stopped in front of his executive elevator. "I told my wife I'd be home right at five-thirty."

I flicked my wrist to check my watch, it was almost noon, we had just finished lunch. I marked it down in my leather folio.

"Shouldn't be a problem," I said.

We waited as the elevator descended, standing side by side I could see our reflections in the shiny metal doors. He towered over me, his suit dark and his hair slicked to the side. Even in my high heels the top of my head barely reached his shoulders.

I shifted from one foot to the other, feeling my nylon stockings slide against each other as my thighs touched. In the reflection of the elevator doors my figure was distorted just enough to resemble a coke bottle, my breasts and hips were my defining feature as much as my fiery red hair. I was dressed just as Mr. Smith liked, a wine pencil skirt and ivory silk button-up just sheer enough to see the outline of my lacy blush bra. Of course the panties matched, as did the garter belt holding up my tan stockings with the back seam and cuban heels. Always the same uniform, just different colors on different days. I was sure Mr. Smith would send me home if I showed up in pants to work one day.

The elevator chimed, the car had arrived. Our reflections separated as the doors slid open, revealing the dark wood interior with the red carpet. This private elevator was only used by Mr. Smith and a few other associates whose offices were on the 32nd floor of the building. We stepped inside and turned to face the front. I pushed the button marked "32."

As the doors slid shut Mr. Smith turned to me, his usual smirk on his face, his hands on his belt buckle.

"I need to piss."

I felt my mouth run dry at his words. I knew the man, I knew he meant right here, right now. I glanced at him, he was already unbuckling his pants. My pussy began to throb.

I turned to face him and sunk to my knees, putting my leather folio off to the side. As he unzipped his fly I unbuttoned my blouse to my navel, letting my F-cup breasts free. I pushed my breasts together and up with my hands, just the way he liked.

I glanced at the lighted numbers at the top of the elevator. Fourth floor. I opened my mouth wide.

Mr. Smith pulled his cock free, but even flaccid he was a good five inches or so. He took a step forward and lined his trajectory up with my pink tongue. He smiled down at me as he began to pee.

The first stream hit my chin, but he corrected a bit and suddenly his acrid piss was landing directly on my tongue. He knew how to hold back so he didn't fill my mouth up too quickly, that way I got a good taste of it before I swallowed.

"That's a good girl," he cooed. "Open wide for me. Don't spill a drop."

My eyes teared up as he kept filling my mouth with his yellow piss, the taste tingled on my tongue. I kept swallowing as much and as quickly as I could so as not to spill, and so as not to drown. With each swallow my pussy throbbed harder, and it took a lot of control to keep my hands presenting my breasts to him instead of wandering under my skirt.

"There we go." Mr. Smith said. He was keeping one eye on the elevator numbers too, we were on the twelfth floor. "You're such a greedy slut, there was no way you'd let me use the executive wash room when your thirsty throat was right here."

I couldn't say anything, I just kept my mouth open and he kept his stream of piss hitting my tongue. I prayed no other executives or board members tried to get on the elevator from another floor, what a mess that would be. We passed the sixteenth floor, almost halfway there. I swallowed another mouthful of piss, and another, all while keeping one eye on the lit numbers above the elevator door.

"You're the dirtiest secretary I've ever had," Mr. Smith complimented me. "You're the first whore to let me use her mouth like a urinal. Are you getting off on this?"

My brows furrowed and I nodded vaguely without spilling a drop.

"You love gargling my piss, don't you? Is your pussy wet?"

His stream was letting up, good thing too since we were on floor twenty-two. I nodded a little too vigorously this time, his piss hit my chin and dribbled onto my full breasts before I recovered and was able to line my mouth back up with his stream.

He took a step closer as he finished peeing, his weaker stream of urine meant he needed to get a little closer to make sure it landed in my mouth.

"That's it," he said. "Swallow every last drop. Don't mess the carpet."

The burning in my pussy was insistent, I'm sure I had a big wet spot on my satin panties. We were on floor twenty-six by the time the last few drops dribbled from the head of his penis into my eager mouth. He shook his cock so that the final drops hit my tongue, my lips, my chin. He watched me swallow the last bit as he tucked his penis back into his trousers. I licked my lips while he watched, tasting the last of him.

"Say it," he growled while buckling his belt.

"Thank you sir for using me as your private toilet," I said, my voice hoarse from drinking his piss. My nose was still filled with his scent. "I enjoyed swallowing your piss."

He smiled down at me while I buttoned my blouse. His piss droplets made little wet circles as the fabric settled over my breast. We were on floor twenty-nine.

"And?"

I looked him directly in the eyes and licked my lips again. "I'm very horny, sir. My slutty pussy is soaking wet."

"Good," he said, straightening his tie and facing the front. "I'm sure you want to go to the bathroom and freshen up, but don't. I don't trust you not to masturbate in there. I want you to sit at your desk outside my office and enjoy the aftertaste of my piss all afternoon. Do your job, and maybe I'll find time after my four o'clock to take care of your wet, throbbing pussy."

"Yes sir," I said.

I reached for my leather folio and rose slowly to my feet just as the elevator stopped at floor thirty-two. The door chimed and the elevator doors slid open. Two other executives were waiting to get into the elevator, they moved to each side so Mr. Smith and I could slide past them. They both met my eyes, and smirked, before getting into the elevator.

Just before the doors closed I felt Mr. Smith's hand wander over as we walked away, he grabbed the hem of my skirt and pulled it up over my butt, giving the two men in the elevator a quick glimpse of my ample derriere before the doors shut. I didn't protest, I only pulled my skirt back down and followed him to his office, sitting down at my desk.

My pussy throbbed all afternoon, just like Mr. Smith said.

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11 Comments
AlphaBeatHerAlphaBeatHerabout 6 years ago
Very nice

Great story, well written

tonguelasher01tonguelasher01over 7 years ago
Perfect.

This is not just a fantasy. It happens, all the time. And it is very nicely described in this story. I do look forward to other stories of sexy, nasty submission. The smirk alone tells volumes. Her humiliation is known to many, or everyone; and she loves it.

AnonymousAnonymousover 8 years ago
Which fetish

It's not about the piss. It's about the submission.

AnonymousAnonymousover 8 years ago

you're an amazing writer, keep this work up, you know it's not just guys who enjoy reading such naughty stories;) This kind of treating gets me wet really quick. right meow you pleased me very well .

BAD BOY BILLBAD BOY BILLover 8 years ago
On Your Knees Bitch..

I love pee play.. This little pee tale makes my cock throb.. With my partner, we often switch roles.. I also love sexy women who smoke cigarettes when we're entertaining our piss fantasies..

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