Page 10 of 7 Miles High
Chapter 4
Natalie
It’s a miracle we made it to his hotel without ripping our clothes off in the taxi. Arrested in another country for indecent exposure is the only thing that stopped me.
The sexual tension is nearly unbearable, and it’s about to get worse. Or better, depending on one thing. If the gods are with us we’ll be alone when the elevator doors close. Parker guides me in with an arm around the back of my waist.
“We’re almost there,” he says, pressing floor seven.
A hand moves under my braid and he pulls me closer. It turns me on to see the little muscle in his jaw tighten.
Swoosh.The closing door becomes part of our sexual soundtrack.
He leans in. I inhale the manly scent of shaving cream and shampoo. Lips touch.
Unfortunately, a meaty hand stops the door’s closure at the last moment.
“Hold it!” the stranger says, easily pushing the doors apart.
A huge man with a cowboy hat invades our sacred space, followed by two younger women in tight short dresses. They wear ridiculously high stilettos. Parker and I exchange meaningful glances that say we’re on the same page. Hookers. Ménage.
Finding our new positions in the now-tight elevator, I’m angled in front of Parker. In front of us the two women are tucked under the arms of the big guy. Alone he takes up nearly a third of the space.
All three of them are laughing. At what is anybody’s guess. I’m only sure of one thing. They’ve had a lot to drink.
“Push six, darlin’,” he says.
She does. Right along with floors two, three, four and five. Giggling follows. Parker sighs.
“Sorry,” the guy adds, turning around to us. “She loves to push the buttons.”
Oh, Jesus. That one is easily amused.
“No problem,” Parker says remarkably calm.
Then I feel it.Itbeing the cock pressing against my back. Through his pants, over my multi-layered skirt, and most importantly without a touch. It’s hard.Thank you great goddess of erections. This might be your finest work.
I give a wiggle. Just to let him know I’m enjoying how he’s passing time while we’re stuck with these people.
As the door closes, my skirt is being lifted. With one hand he’s bunching a fistful of fabric and unveiling my ass. Inch by inch. It shouldn’t be amusing me so much, but I’m smiling like a goon. When I turn my head, he’s looking forward with a straight face, making sure our fellow travelers haven’t noticed we have no sense of decency.
Ding
Floor two arrives five seconds later. Doors open, pausing for the non-existent guests to enter, then close. The hooker who pressed the buttons is kissing the sweaty neck of the john. Everyone seems to need a little lovin’ tonight.
Ding
Floor three and my cheeks are exposed. This is where my squats pay off. Parker carefully tucks the excesses material in the waistband. When I turn my head and catch his expression it reminds me of a naughty little boy who’s proud of his inspired idea to peek under the girls’ skirts.
Ding
Floor four. A warm palm’s moving over the shape of me. I feel my thong being pulled from my crack and his finger sliding underneath. Holy goosebumps.
Ding
Floor five. Now Parker positions me precisely where he wants, my backside centered against his manhood. I feel the press of him between my cheeks. I hear the barely there moan. Then he gently pulls my braid as he secretly pumps. He wraps my hair around his fist and holds my neck back. Oh fuck me. Please, fuck me.
Ding
