Stuck in the Elevator with Steph


It was almost noon and I was heading down to the soda machine in the basement to get a Diet Pepsi to go with the brown bag lunch my wife had packed for me. I work for a small not-for-profit in a mid-sized city and our office is staffed mainly with women, so I was enjoying the view of the many different shapes and sizes of my coworkers as I walked to the elevator.

It’s been summer for a few weeks now, but the weather has only recently started to realize that, and we were enjoying our third straight day of temperatures in the 90s. An added benefit of the weather turning nice was the increase in exposed skin around the office, as the shorter skirts and sleeveless tops have come out along with the sun. Waiting for the elevator I was peering out the window looking at the bright sun beating down on a cloudless day, and thanking the inventor of central air conditioning!


My daydream was interrupted by the sound of the elevator arriving. As I was stepping in to the empty car, I glanced back down the hall to see Stephanie coming toward me in a near jog.

“Here!” I called to her, “I’ll hold the elevator for you.”

“It’s okay, I’ll take the stairs,” she called back, “I’m only going down one floor.”

“You can’t,” I reminded her, “they’re painting the stairwell this week, remember?”

There was an odd look of panic on her face when she peered through the window in the stairwell door at the scaffolding and tarps, and then stepped into the small elevator car with me with a heavy sigh. I punched the “B” button, which was my destination, and then the “9” button just as Stephanie was saying “nine please.”

She was staring at the elevator door intently, biting her lower lip, almost trying to will it to close faster. (The elevators in this old building are notoriously slow.) Meanwhile, I was taking the opportunity to drink in her lovely form from head to toe.

I originally hired Stephanie about 5 years ago as a clerk in my department. During the interview process, I learned that she was very involved with her church, and was actually studying to be a deacon. While only 22 at the time, exactly half my age, she impressed me with her quiet, serious demeanor, and turned out to be an excellent worker.

Who am I kidding? I hired her because she was statuesque!

Stephanie is 5-foot, 10-inches tall, and in heels, is well over six foot. She played basketball and swam in high school, so she has a very athletic build, with broad shoulders, a modest chest, and long, well-defined legs. She has long, sandy-brown hair that she always wears pulled back tightly or in a bun. And the sparkle in her hazel eyes belies her stoic, pious demeanor.


Again, I was snapped out of another daydream, this time by Stephanie’s words, which were directed at the elevator as the door slowly closed. Normally a very patient person, I was surprised at her exasperation, and noticed she was bouncing back and forth on her feet. The elevator began its slow decent, and Stephanie turned to me with a sheepish smile and a bit of a blush, obviously embarrassed at her impatience.


There was a loud noise as the elevator car stopped in a lurch, and then the lights went out. Stephanie and I both said “OH” at the same time, but she followed hers with “NO!” and mine was followed by “SHIT!” just as the emergency lighting in the elevator started to glow. She had an expression of fear on her face.

“Are you claustrophobic?” I asked, trying to put her at ease.

“Ummm, no, it’s not that,” she replied, trying to choose her words carefully, “it’s just that I was in a bit of a hurry…ummm…to get someplace.”

“Don’t worry” I tried to console her, “Don will have us out of here in a jiffy,” although the wishful tone in my voice may not have provided much comfort.

I looked across the small elevator car at Stephanie, who was still fidgeting, with her arms wrapped tightly across her chest. She was wearing a long sleeved lime green blouse, with only the top button undone, a pair of tan pants, and open-toe shoes with about a three inch heel.

I reached for the emergency phone and punched in Don’s number. After a brief conversation, which consisted mainly of me saying “uh-huh, uh-hun” a lot, I hung up.

Stephanie said “What’s going on?” with a pleading look in her eyes.

“Don said that the power is out all over the city, probably due to over consumption from all the air conditioning.”

“OH DEAR GOD!” came Stephanie’s reply, “How long until we’re out of her?” she asked.

“He said he has a call into the bursa otele gelen eskort elevator company, but they’re swamped…probably an hour or two.”

“BUT I CAN’T WAIT THAT LONG!” Stephanie almost yelled.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Never mind,” she said, and let her back slide down the wall until she was sitting on the elevator floor, her knees bent up and pressed tightly together.

Stephanie didn’t have to explain what her hurry was. It was obvious that she was doing ‘the pee-pee dance’ which secretly excited me. She took out her little Daily Meditation book and started to leaf through it, so I took out my blackberry to check my emails, sneaking glances over at Stephanie as often as possible.

The elevator was only about 4-foot by 6-foot, and it started to get very warm in there, the small emergency fan no match for the blistering heat outside.

I watched as tiny beads of sweat built up on her forehead and temple, and then ran down the length of her long neck, disappearing under the collar of her blouse. As she was reading her book, she reached up to release two more buttons on her blouse, to try to keep cool. This allowed me to follow her sweat beads as they raced down over the tops of her breasts and in between the her cleavage, a view I’m sure he had no idea she was providing me as I stood on the other side of the elevator car.

“GOOD GOD NO!” she cried, as she dropped her book and instinctively pushed both hands into her crotch, burying her face between her knees.

“What’s wrong Steph?” I asked as I stepped closer to her.

She looked up at me like a school-girl, her eyes red with her tears, and softly said “I’ve got to pee really bad.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get out of her soon,” I offered, trying to sound convincing.

“But I’ve got to go NOW!” she said, opening her knees and moving her hands, showing me the small dark spot on the crotch of her pants where she obviously just had a small accident. “I was trying to get to the bathroom before I got on the elevator,” she continued to explain, “but the ones on our floor were all occupied. I just wanted to get to the 9th floor!”

She pushed her head back between her knees and started to sob.

The uncharacteristic vulnerability she was showing, coupled with my secret pee fetish, started a familiar stirring in my own trousers, and I decided to be bold.

“I can help if you want me to,” I offered.

“How?” she snapped back at me snidely, convinced that her only two options were to make a mess in her clothes, and/or make a mess on the elevator floor.

“Do you want my help or not?” I asked, knowing that her desperation was the reason for her sudden lack of decorum and respect.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t see how you can help me John,” she sheepishly replied. Her casual use of my name made my heart flutter.

“Can I trust you Stephanie?” I asked.

“Of course you can.” she automatically replied.

“Then I’m going to tell you something that not even my wife knows.” I continued.

She looked up at me with a confused yet interested look.

“I like to drink pee.”

“WHAT?” was her instictive reply.

“I like to drink pee.” I repeated, matter-of-factly. “A girlfriend in college turned me onto to what they call ‘water sports’, and if you pardon the pun, I developed quite a taste for it.”

I couldn’t believe that I was sharing my deepest darkest secret fetish with the most religious person in the building, and a member of my staff. From the look of astonishment on her face, I knew she couldn’t believe what she was hearing either.

“Wouldn’t that make you sick?” she asked, trying to wrap her brain around what I was saying.

“No, actually,” I continued, “what most people don’t know is that fresh urine is very sanitary, as long as the person does not have a disease.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” she replied, still not putting two and two together.

I just looked deep into her eyes without responding. And then it dawned on her.


I just smiled.

“REALLY?” she asked, still stunned by the revelation of what I was proposing, “Oh John, I don’t know…” she trailed off.

“I won’t tell if you won’t tell!” I quipped with a wink, trying to break the tension, which it did.

She giggled, then gasped, as the stain on her crotch grew slightly, the laugh letting out another involuntary burst in her pants.

“HOW?” is all she said, averting her eyes down to the floor, resigned bursa eve gelen escort bayan to the fact that my offer was the only thing that was going to save her a lifetime sentence on the office rumor mill should she be found by our rescuers in a large puddle of piss.

My cock was hard as a rock knowing that she had just agreed to use me as her personal toilet. Thankfully she was so wrapped up in her shame that she didn’t notice the large tent in the front of my trousers.

“I’ll lie on my back and you just kneel over me.” I replied, trying to make it sound as simple and non-sexual as possible. “You will have to remove your pants however to be sure you don’t soil them any more than they already are.”

“And you promise you won’t tell a soul about this?” she asked, now completely bought into the plan.

“Of course not Steph,” I replied, offering my hand to her to stand back up “you think I want everyone to know what I just told you?”

She stood up, letting out another tell-tale gasp, indicating she had to move quickly. Her modesty long gone, I watched as she unbuckled her pants and carefully stepped out of them, trying not to release any more pee in her clothing. She carefully folded them and bent over to lay them in the corner of the elevator.

I watched as the thin material of her simple white cotton panties pulled into the cleft of her well-toned ass when she bent over, the pale yellow stain on the crotch visible between her legs. She stood and placed her thumbs in the waste band of her panties, about to take them off, and then froze.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She started to turn about 7 different shades of red, as she was trying to figure out how to respond.

“Ummmm….I guess I have my own little college secret too,” she said, in almost a whisper, as she slowly peeled her damp panties down her long, long legs.

As she stepped out of her panties, I couldn’t help but stare at the wispy light brown hair that covered her mound, and then I noticed the small images on the insides of each of her thighs, right below her crotch. She brought her hands down to cover her pussy, in an attempt to salvage her last shred of dignity, as well as hold back the pending flood, but her hands couldn’t cover the little tattoos, one of an angle, and one of a devil, that bordered the entrance to her womanhood.

Her eyes still glued to the floor, she continued, “My freshman year I got into a lot of trouble,” she admitted in a steady, measured tone, “it was my first time away from home, and I allowed myself to succumb to the pleasures of the flesh.”

My cock grew even harder, knowing that there was a closet slut bottle up under all that repression. As she was telling her story, like it was some bad dream, I removed my shirt and tie, and got into position on the floor.

“That’s when I knew I had to devote myself to the Lord, who saved me from my wicked ways,” her admission continued, the memories however not being totally unpleasant, as I now saw her nipples starting to poke through the thin material of her blouse. She stepped over me, and I was looking up at her like she was an Amazon warrior princess.

“These are a reminder of the depths to which I sank during that time,” she explained, allowing her hands to drop to her sides, exposing her tattoos like she was entering evidence in a courtroom. What my eyes also noticed was how inflamed her labia were, as her pussy lips hung down lewdly between her legs, her engorged clit clearly visible.

She knelt down over me, a knee by each of my ears, her pussy about a foot from my mouth, lowering it slowly as she continued her story, almost in a trance. I could smell the delicious combination of Ivory soap and fresh piss coming from her crotch.

“One Friday night I went out with a couple guys from one of my classes. We were drinking and partying pretty hard at one of the downtown dance clubs. I don’t remember many more details of that weekend, just waking up in their fraternity house on Sunday, in a king sized bed with them and two of their frat brothers, all of us naked, and these new tattoos on my thighs.”

Her pussy now resting on my open mouth, her story seemed to distract her from her need for urgent release. I laid there patiently waiting for her to start her stream.

Then I felt it, ever so slightly, she started to rock her hips, rubbing her clit on the roughness of the 5 o’clock shadow starting on my upper lip. Her story, and our current situation, seemed to have transported her back in time, releasing her inner slut.

I looked up at her through her sparse pubic hair and noticed she had her eyes closed and was rubbing her breasts through her shirt, squeezing and pinching her nipples. I took this as an invitation and pushed my tongue in between her meaty labia and deep within her cunt.

“Ahhhhhhhhh” came the moan from above, as she increased the movements of her hips to get my probing tongue to hit just the right places. I brought my hands up to caress the firm globes of her naked ass as I reveled in the pungent taste of her sex. Looking up again, I saw that she had pulled off her shirt was removing her bra.

My hands followed her smooth skin from her glorious ass, up her sides, until I found her firm breasts. Another loud moan came from above as I took over pinching her rock hard nipples while my tongue started an assault on her clit. Shifting her weight a little, she reached behind her and started rubbing my cock through my pants, lost in the pleasures my hands and tongue were providing.

Her moans were getting louder and her breathing more rapid, as she leaned forward and grabbed my head with both hands, pulling my face deeply into her crotch as she started to shudder in orgasm. My mouth filled with the flavor of sweet girl cum as I struggled to breath through my nose with her full weight pushing her pussy onto my mouth.

And then the flood started.

My mouth immediately filled with the hot salty brine of her piss, and I started to swallow rapidly to try to keep up with the flow. Her piss started to leak from the corners of my mouth, down my face and neck, so I gently slapped her ass to bring her back to reality and try to keep her from drowning me. She looked down at me with a smile, and pinched off her flow just a bit to allow me to catch up with the volume.

“You ARE enjoying this, aren’t you, you wicked man?” she said as her hazel eyes stared into my soul.

“More than you can imagine, Steph,” was my beaming reply.

With that she knelt up off my face and started working herself further down my body, rubbing her dripping cunt over my bare chest, resting it directly over my throbbing member trapped in my navy blue suit pants.

Leaning down, she placed her face close to mine, but quickly pulled back when I went to kiss her. Stretching forward, she repeated this tease, letting each nipple fall almost to within the grasp of my lips, pulling them away before I could get a taste. Giggling down at me, she seemed to be really enjoying this dominant position.

Timing it just right, I watched intently as her left nipple came back into range, and proudly caught it between my front teeth just as she was pulling away. Simultaneously, she let out a yelp, along with a short blast of piss, which leaked through the material of my suit pants, dousing my cock.

“MMMmmmmmmm” I hummed over her nipple as the warmth of her hot piss soaked into my pants and around my balls.

“You want more, sinner?” she asked with a wicked smile, then released her bladder again, an obvious sign that her question was rhetorical. Sucking on her nipple I grabbed her ass and started humping up into her spraying pussy as she drenched me from the waist down in her hot piss.

We continued to grind together as I alternated my sucking between her breasts and squeezed her firm ass, until her piss stream subsided. After a few more minutes of grinding, I pulled her close and blew a huge load of cum into my piss soaked pants. She continued to rub her clit on my cock through my pants, milking every last drop of cum out of me, until she shudder again in her second orgasm.

She then stood up without a word, returned to her pile of clothes and starting getting dressed.

Standing up, I looked down at myself, looking as though I just lost a fight with a fire hose…which I did. Putting my shirt back on, I felt the elevator car lurch again, the main lighting flashed back on, and we restarted our descent.

As the car slowed to a stop at the 9th floor, Stephanie leaned in close, gave me a peck on the cheek and whispered “Thank you, your secret is safe with me,” as she shoved something into my pants pocket.


The elevator door slowly slid open, and we were greeted by the elevator technicians and half the staff of our office, who all started to laugh, staring at my piss soaked crotch.

“Looks like someone couldn’t make it to the bathroom!” Stephanie said with a smirk and a twinkle in her eyes, as she stepped off the elevator looking as conservatively clean and pressed as she did when she stepped on.

Standing there dumbfounded, I reached into my pocket and felt a ball of damp material and broke into a huge smile as I exited the elevator after her.

My reward for assistance above and beyond the call of duty were those plain white piss soaked panties of hers.

My day just kept getting wetter….I mean better!

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