Date: Wed, 13 May 1992 06:44:09 GMT
From: Mari Sepp{ <zarr@vipunen.hut.fi> (Black Panther)
Subject: Elevator
To: BARRY@DRYCAS.CLUB.CC.CMU.EDU
Message-id: <199205130644.AA104479@vipunen.hut.fi>

			Elevator

  He  looks about  the  lobby  of  the building.  There is no-one
about,  so he darts over to the elevator,  gets in and pushes the
button  for the  top floor.   As  the doors hiss shut,  he cannot
resist stroking the rubber door-guards.
  The  trip to the top is over almost before he realises it.   He
reaches up  and  loosens the cable  running into  the back of the
surveillance camera.  If a security guard should bother to check,
he will see nothing untoward.   He then pushes the button for the
floor  immediately  below.   The doors hiss shut again,  and once
more  his attention  is  drawn to the  smooth  black rubber lips.
  Half-way down,  between floors, he pushes the stop button.  The
elevator jerks to a stop, the squeaking sounds gradually diminish
as  the dampers  compensate for the rocking motion.  In the quiet
that  follows the fading squeaks,  he thinks  he can hear someone
snickering  at  him.   He  listens,  head  cocked  to  one  side.
Nothing.
  One finger still on the stop button,  he reaches over,  inserts
two fingers  between  the elevator door-guards,  forces the doors
apart.    Once the doors are open slightly,  he releases the stop
button.  With  one hand  keeping  the doors open,  he  undoes the
front of his jeans, drops his pants and exposes his erection.  He
moves up to the door,  pokes his penis in between the doors,  and
carefully allows them to  close on it.   The  door-guards  softly
enfold him,  and as they  close  around his throbbing dick,  they
sense it as an obstruction, open slightly and try to close again.
  He smiles  as the doors slowly close.   He had been  trying out
elevators  all over town,  almost getting arrested  for  indecent
exposure  in Nauru House,  but  there were  very few elevators in
Melbourne  that would allow him this pleasure...  he had narrowed
it down to  two particular models installed by Johns and Waygood.
  The doors make a grating sound, and almost close on him; he has
to  thrust  forward   before   they  retreat  with  a  delightful
shuddering  feeling.  Again,  the   doors  try  to  close  on the
obstruction,  slowly  squeezing his  penis  between the twin soft
rubber lips.   He begins to  thrust  rhythmically as the elevator
decides  that it is safe to proceed down to  the next floor.   As
his thrusts grow more excited, the doors seperate again, stopping
the elevator with a wonderful jolting feeling,  almost as  if the
elevator was humping him in return for his attention.   His hands
clutch at  the smooth metal of the doors  in ecstasy.   Once  the
jiggling has settled, the doors slowly press inwards again, until
they are squeezing his dick  into a slot about half an inch wide.
He withdraws  to make another stroke,  the  doors  close over the
head  of  his  penis   and  the  elevator  decides  to  move  on,
hesitantly, as if it is not entirely sure if the door is clear or
not.
 He realises that his dick is caught, and he tries to tug it free
with no success.   He can't reach the stop button,  either; he is
utterly at the mercy of the lift.   He frantically tries to prise
the  doors  open,  but  they  have  locked  somehow in the narrow
tolerance  between   the  point  at  which   the  doors  consider
themselves fully closed and the point at which the rubber sensors
register  an obstruction.  He tugs again,  until the pain becomes
too much,  and he tries,  ineffectively,  to lose his erection by
sheer will-power.  He can no longer tell which floor he's on; the
emergency  telephone  is  ringing,  but  he can't  reach it.   He
decides to try and make the best of it,  and  pushes forward with
all his might.   His dick slips through the door-guards,  and the
head is now caught in the lips on the outside of the door.  He is
pressed firmly up against the door now, writhing as he approaches
climax, when suddenly the elevator hits bottom.  The doors spring
open,  and he ejaculates in relief as the pressure is lifted.  He
leans there,  arms resting on the doors, erect penis poking up at
a forty-five degree angle, spurting fluid into the air.  He opens
his  eyes  and sees  five security guards,  seven police,  twenty
firemen and a `Hinch at Seven' camera crew.  He smiles.