The “ding” sounded.
The movement stopped.
They were finally alone in the elevator.
They couldn’t keep their hands off each other all night. An evening of drinking and dancing had left them both charged with an insatiable desire.
He pushed her back to the mirrored wall and pressed his lips against hers. She slid his tongue into his mouth and grasped his ass with her hands.
He hiked her denim skirt up and traced the lacy trim of her black boyshort panties until he found her dampening womanhood. He rubbed her through the soft fabric, eliciting deep moans of pleasure from her.
She took her hands off his ass and unbuttoned his khaki shorts. She pushed his shorts and boxers to the floor.
He immediately spun her around and pulled her panties down. They looked into each other’s eyes in the mirror as he placed himself behind her.
He slid himself into the welcoming heat of her wet slit.
He wasted no time in starting to pump his cock in and out of her. With each thrust he could see her tits bounce in her tank top.
She pushed into him, driving him deeper into her box. Her eyes rolled back and she arched her back downward.
Her body began to shudder. He put his hand over her mouth to mute her undulating moans of orgasmic pleasure.
Soon his manhood throbbed and shot into her pussy, filling her with his cum.
He removed himself from her, his seed mixed with her wetness spilling to the floor.
She pulled her panties up and straightened her skirt as he brought his pants back up from his ankles.
They pushed the “6” button and the elevator once again began to move.
The bell “dinged” and the doors slid open.
They exited onto their floor to head to their room, hand-in-hand.
Behind them, the red “record” button of the elevator camera remained on.
And the doors thudded shut.
