Stuck in the Past

The heat hit my face the second the elevator doors slid shut. Margarita stood two steps away from me in a light beige dress that hugged her full hips. In twenty-three years, she'd barely changed—same high cheekbones, same deep brown eyes, only now her hair had threads of silver running through it, making her even more striking.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Victor," she said quietly, but her voice cracked.

I stared at her lips and remembered how they used to wrap around my cock. Desire hit me instantly, a heavy wave low in my gut. The elevator jerked and stopped between floors. The lights flickered, then dimmed to emergency mode. In the cramped cab, the air filled with her perfume—warm, with a hint of vanilla.

"Well, look at this," I breathed out, stepping closer. "After all these years..."

Margarita didn't back away. Her chest was rising faster, her nipples already pressing through the thin fabric. I reached out and ran my fingers along her shoulder. Her skin was hot.

"Don't..." she whispered, but her eyes said the opposite. "We... we ended things for good back then."

"And now we're just two grown-ups in a stuck elevator," I said hoarsely, pressing her against the wall. Her body trembled in response. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll step back."

She was silent for a second, then her palm landed on my chest.

"I want this..." Margarita breathed out. "I haven't felt anything like this in so long."

My mouth found hers. The kiss was greedy, wet, tasting of long-forgotten passion. Our tongues tangled, and she moaned into my lips. My hands slid under her dress on their own, finding her firm ass—no panties. Margarita gasped.

"You were always this wet for me," I whispered, running my fingers between her legs. Her clit was already swollen, her juices dripping down her thighs.

"Victor... touch me harder," she begged, fumbling with my shirt buttons with shaking fingers. "I've missed your hands so much."

I dropped to my knees right on the cold elevator floor. I hiked up her dress and pressed my face to her pussy. The scent of an aroused woman hit me like a drug. My tongue traced her slick folds, circled her clit, pushed deeper. Margarita grabbed my hair and shoved my face in harder.

"Oh god... yes, just like that... lick me..." she moaned, her thighs trembling. "You always knew how to get me there."

Her juices ran down my chin. I sucked her clit, pushed two fingers into her hot cunt, and fucked her with them in rhythm with my tongue. Margarita writhed, her moans filling the tiny cab. Within a minute, she came for the first time—sharp, with a short cry, her thighs clamping around my head. Her legs buckled, but I held her up.

I stood, unzipped my pants. My cock sprang free—rock hard, the head swollen, already glistening with pre-cum. Margarita stared at it with hunger.

"It's even bigger than I remembered," she whispered, wrapping her hand around the shaft. "I want to feel it inside me."

"Then turn around," I said.

She obediently got on all fours, bracing her hands against the elevator wall. Her dress rode up to her waist, revealing her full, mouth-watering ass and her wet, glistening pussy. I dragged the head along her lips, teasing, then slammed in to the hilt. Margarita cried out in pleasure.

"Fuck me... harder..." she gasped. "I'm yours... I've always been yours."

I started moving. Deep, heavy, my hips slapping against her ass. In the cramped elevator, every sound was amplified—the wet squelch, her moans, my ragged breathing. I grabbed her tits through her dress, pinched her nipples, picked up the pace. Then I slowed down, savoring every millimeter of her hot walls clenching around my cock.

"I want it in my mouth," she said suddenly, turning to look at me. Her eyes were blazing.

I pulled out of her. Margarita sank to her knees on the floor. Her lips wrapped around the head, her tongue swirling around it. She took me deeper and deeper until her nose pressed into my stomach. Her throat squeezed around my cock, drool running down the shaft. I held her by her silver-streaked hair and fucked her mouth—not too rough, but deep enough to make her gasp with pleasure.

"You're so fucking hot... even now," I whispered as I neared the edge.

Margarita pulled back, breathing hard, her lips glistening.

"Cum inside me... please. I want to feel your cum filling me up."

I put her back on all fours. I entered her with one thrust and started pounding her fast, furious. Her pussy pulsed, squeezing me tight. Margarita was screaming now without any shame, rubbing her clit with her fingers. I felt the orgasm building—heat in my lower back, my balls heavy.

"Now... I'm coming!" I growled.

"Do it... flood me!" she moaned.

The first thick blast of cum shot deep into her cunt. I kept thrusting, emptying everything I'd stored up over the years into her. Margarita came with me—her body convulsing, her pussy milking my cock to the last drop. Hot cum mixed with her juices and ran down the inside of her thighs.

We froze, breathing hard. The elevator suddenly lurched and started moving again. I helped her up, straightened her dress. A satisfied, slightly guilty smile played on her lips.

"Maybe we should head up to my place for some tea?" Margarita asked softly, tracing a finger down my chest. "Or... we could just continue in the apartment."

I kissed her temple, feeling my cock already starting to stiffen again.

"We'll continue," I said. "We've got a lot of catching up to do."