A Tight Squeeze
By J.D Freshenmeyer
July 3rd, 2027, 4:13 PM. And in the conference room on the 48th floor of the Realco corporate headquarters building, Emilia Vulpine was losing her mind.
She kicked her feet under the table, slipped her heels off and back on, played song lyrics in her head. Nothing was working, and it was getting worse by the second. She’d already chewed all the flavor out of her mint gum and spat it into a Kleenex in her suit pocket.
The Vice regional coordinator of expansion and development strategies, or it could have been the janitor for all she cared, had been talking for the last 38 minutes. Tapping a whiteboard full of squiggly drawings and buzzwords with a pointer stick.
“And as you can see, even in the face of recent economic headwinds, projections are up by...”
Emilia crossed her legs and then quickly uncrossed them. Nope, even that little bit of pressure just made it worse. She tried distracting herself with the view of the city skyline outside the windows. Her company probably owned about forty percent of those buildings. She was hyper-aware of every sound in the room—tapping pens, coughs and murmurs, the rustling of paper.
She could smell everyone. Not just what perfume or cologne they had on, either. She could tell who’d jerked off or had sex recently by the pheromones they were giving off. She wasn’t going to bring it up now, obviously, but a young executive a few seats down from her was pregnant. Probably early enough she didn’t even know herself.
“...A return on investment of up to 400%...”
She rested her elbows on the table and put her head in her hands, rubbing her temples. Great, we made another 40 billion this year, throw it on the pile. Let those stupid waterfront condos fall into the ocean. If Emilia didn’t get out of here soon, they’d find her naked in the park on top of a stranger and they’d have to hit her with a tranq dart.
You see, Emilia Vulpine, billionaire CEO of one of the largest real estate companies in the world, was in heat. Unbearable heat. And she’d screwed up.
Being a fox, this was something she usually had down to a science. She knew exactly when it would start, how long it would last, and when it would end. Normally her husband would take care of it. They’d both take the week off work and spend it in bed going at it like lunatics until one or both of them were well and truly exhausted. He was out of town at a conference, though. He wouldn’t be back for three days and her heat had started early. She knew as soon as she woke up that morning, and it had been building ever since, until she was currently hotter than the sun and about to explode like one.
“Would our CEO like to add anything before I turn it over to our next speaker?”
The mix of humans and anthros around the table all looked to her like doting sycophants, waiting for her to speak.
She couldn’t take it anymore. There was sweat running down her forehead and pooling in her armpits. Get out of here NOW or tear the clothes off the girl next to you.
“I, uh, have some other things I just remembered I need to take care of.” She was on her feet and already halfway to the door. “Get me a full written report of the meeting, okay?”
She didn’t wait for an answer before half walking, half running out of the room.
As she passed the secretary’s desk, there was a copy of BusinessWeek magazine with her picture on the cover, hands on her hips striking her best ‘woman in charge’ pose. “Billionaire at 25” the title proclaimed. It must have been an old issue and she felt a sting of disappointment seeing it. She certainly wasn’t 25 anymore. And she didn’t quite look like she’d eaten the girl on the cover, but definitely snacked on her a bit.
The toned, gym-girl physique was long gone. Or rather buried under years of late-night takeout, fancy dinner parties and tubs of ice cream on the couch. Between a family with two kids and her job, she just didn’t have the time for an active lifestyle anymore. Not that her husband minded. He couldn’t get enough of her, and wouldn’t let her turn the lights off when they did it. Still, her butt had grown to the point where she almost couldn’t hide it in baggy skirts anymore, and she’d recently noticed to her horror that she was starting to develop a double chin.
Everything else was still there, though. Her vibrant orange fur, her well-proportioned ears and tail. Nicely polished white fangs. Those pretty green eyes, if you’d allow her a self-compliment. The one upside was that her chest had grown along with everything else. From a completely average C-cup well into the Ds. If only all the fat she put on went there instead of to her hips and belly.
She was brought back to reality as another hot flash fired off between her legs. There was a massage parlor six blocks down that would give you the happy ending first and the massage after. She and her husband had an understanding. He was a human, but he knew when they started dating that she as an anthro would have certain needs. She had vowed to never be with anyone else but him, a promise she would die before breaking, except in heat emergencies. He knew it was just a biological necessity and didn’t mean anything.
She’d take her car and be there in 10 minutes. Or go off like a nuke and level a city block. Whichever happened first.
She got in the elevator and pushed the button for the garage.
July 3rd, 2027, 4:13 PM. And in the waiting area of the 37th floor of the Realco corporate office building, 13-year-old Damian White was bored out of his absolute mind.
He’d been flipping through the pages of a women’s fashion magazine, not really reading it, and glancing up at the clock on the wall for what felt like forever. Were the hands actually moving backwards? His school bag was full of homework, but honestly staring at the clock was more fun than geometry. Maybe he could entertain himself with another trip to the water cooler.
He was freezing, too. It was the middle of summer and outside it was sweltering. So he was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. But in here, they had the air-con cranked full-blast. His arms and legs were covered in goosebumps.
Where the heck were his parents? They were supposed to be finished work by 4, and then they were all going out to dinner at that new burger place and then to a movie. Kind of their apology for working too much and not having enough time to spend together as a family. It wasn’t off to a great start.
The middle-aged bunny at the receptionist’s desk looked up from her computer. “Are you waiting for someone, young lady?”
When Damian turned his head to look at her, she was immediately apologetic. “Oh my goodness, I’m sorry. It was just—”
“The hair, right? It’s fine. I get it all the time.”
It wasn’t just his long blonde hair that made Damian look like a girl. He had the pale skin of an indoor kid, with girlish freckles across his cheeks and nose. His facial features were soft with no masculine sharpness, and his body, well, he wouldn’t be winning any weightlifting competitions, to put it nicely. He really didn’t mind, though. His mother told him “being comfortable with yourself is a gift most people would kill for.”
As a joke, he sometimes thought that with a bit of makeup and a change of clothes, he could look like a girl completely. He wondered if he went to school like that, how long it would take anyone to realize.
“My mom and dad are in a meeting. They’re in the marketing department.”
“You want me to go in and see if they’re almost finished?”
Damian was leaning back in the chair until he was almost parallel. “No, it’s fine. I can wait.” He brushed his hair out of his eyes, stretched and cracked his knuckles. As he did, his shirt rode up a bit—showing off the white skin of his midsection.
“There’s an arcade machine in the first floor lobby, you know? It might be a bit old-school, but it doesn’t need quarters, and it’s at least something to do.”
Damian sat up straight and yanked his shirt down. Music to his ears. He got up and made his way to the elevator. He was pretty good at arcade games, actually. But mostly through emulation. You didn’t see real ones around these days much.
“If your mom and dad get out, I’ll let them know where you are.”
“Thanks.”
He pushed the button and waited, tapping his foot impatiently. Yeah, his attention span and patience had taken the same hit as every other kid raised on iPads and social media. He knew it was a problem, and did his best.
The doors opened and he stepped in. There was only one other person in there, a chubby fox woman in a black business suit. Okay, she was more than chubby. But even in his head, he was trying to be polite. He felt small next to her. An instrumental cover of ‘I Have Nothing’ by Whitney Houston was playing.
“Which floor?” the fox asked.
“Uh, lobby, thanks.” He blushed as they made eye contact and she smiled at him.
Emilia was sweating more now, shifting from one foot to the other, biting her lip. She hoped this little blonde girl didn’t notice. Wait, there was something different about her smell. She sniffed the air a bit. Oh...oh, no, it wasn’t a girl at all. This was a boy. He looked for all the world like a girl, thought. She felt bad for making that mistake.
Him, not her, Emilia. Be more sensitive. You know it’s not as black and white as it was back in your day.
Her day. The thought that she was that old gave her palpitations.
“You look a bit young to be working here,” she said to him.
He laughed to be polite. “My parents work here. They’re in marketing.” She was big enough that there wasn’t much room between them and he could smell her nice flowery perfume.
Damian snuck a few glances at her as the elevator went down, being careful not to get caught looking. She was really pretty. Her fur was nice and fluffy and he wondered what it would feel like to run his hands through it. His friends at school always teased him because they knew he liked anthro girls. They said he was too much of a dork to get a human girlfriend and that if he made out with an anthro, he’d be coughing up hairballs. He came back by saying if they got lost in the snow, they wouldn’t be able to cuddle up with a human girl to keep warm. It was all moot though, since neither he nor his friends had any luck with either human or anthro girls.
She shifted a bit and her hip brushed against him. That was enough, though. He popped a boner instantly. God, why now? He’d already jerked off this morning before school, and he’d have to take care of it again later. He pulled his shirt down a bit to hide it. “Please don’t notice.”
The kid had a boner. She could smell it clear as day. The pheromones he was giving off were insane. He must have been almost as horny as she was, poor thing. She looked down at him and he turned away nervously. “Yeah, I feel your pain.”She felt a weird sense of pride, actually. Like, “Is that for me? Do I turn you on that much?”
She had to scold herself again. “For God’s sake, Emilia, he’s just a kid.” This heat was making her crazy. Although, there had been quite a few cases where anthros had been found not guilty of sex crimes because of heat psychosis.
This elevator ride was slowing down time.
There was a sudden lurch that sent them both stumbling. Emilia had to brace herself so she didn’t fall on top of the kid and squash him. The lights went out for a second, then came back on. The music had stopped. They weren’t moving anymore.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Uh, I’m not—” she pushed the button for the 1st floor lobby. Nothing happened. She pushed it again.
Nothing.
She started pushing it over and over impatiently. click click click click
“Oh come on,” she shouted, then quickly got control of herself again when she saw she was scaring the kid. “You’re the adult, act like it.”
“Is it broken?” he asked, looking up at her.
She sighed, “Yeah, I think it might be.” She opened the panel and tried the emergency phone. No dial tone. Someone had a very unflattering employee evaluation in their near future.
“Do you have a cellphone?”
Damian could have kicked himself. He’d forgotten it that morning before school. It was sitting on his bedside table and he’d been going through screen withdrawal all day. He looked down at the floor apologetically, “No, sorry.”
She put a reassuring paw on his shoulder, “Don’t worry about it. I forgot mine, too.”
“Because I didn’t want any interruptions while I was getting my three holes filled and I thought I’d be back to work in half an hour.”
She left that last part out.
“What do we do?” he asked, already sounding like he was on the verge of tears.
She gave him the smile that she gave her own kids when they were crying. “We’ll just have to wait. There’s 3000 people in this building, they’ll notice right away that the elevator’s broken. It’ll probably just be a few minutes. I’m Emilia, by the way. What’s your name?” She found that her maternal instinct was overriding the heat.
“Damian.”
She looked him straight in the eyes. “We’ve got this, Damian. Trust me, I own the place. If they don’t get it fixed soon, I’ll fire everyone.”
He laughed through sniffles and wiped his nose. “Yeah, alright.”
Half an hour later (there was a digital clock on the wall that still worked) they were sitting on the floor trying to stave off the heat. The air-conditioning wasn’t getting to them, and you can imagine what it was like to be trapped in a little metal box in the middle of a summer heatwave. It was spacious enough at least that they could each have their own corner. Not big enough to throw a swing dance, but you could pace around.
Damian had taken his shirt off and had it draped over his face like a towel in a sauna room. Emilia had her shoes and stockings off, and was down to her black skirt and white blouse with the top few buttons open. They’d pulled off a nice bit of teamwork when he’d stood on her shoulders to reach the emergency hatch and forced it open. They weren’t getting out that way (which felt like it defeated the purpose of an emergency hatch in the first place) but at least they weren’t going to run out of air.
She’d let her orange hair down out of a ponytail, but quickly found that was even worse, so she’d done it back up, giving Damian an extra hair tie she had so he could do his up as well. He looked pretty cute in a ponytail, she thought. She’d also tried fanning him with her tail, but it just blew the hot air around and didn’t do anything except make him sneeze.
Together they’d forced the elevator doors open in the hopes that Damian at least could squeeze through a gap, but it was just solid brick. They must have been directly between two floors. They’d tried waving at the security camera to get someone’s attention, but had no way of knowing if anyone had actually seen them.
As shallow as it sounded, the thing Emilia had been most worried about wasn’t that they might starve to death in a coffin, or plunge 30 floors into the ground at any moment. It was actually how her belly rolls looked over the waist of her skirt. When she sat, they bunched up and spilled over. So she was standing instead. The other heat was back, too. Stress always made it worse and she was about to start climbing the walls.
“Emilia,” Damian asked from under his shirt, “you alright?”
She wasn’t, at all, but she was still the adult. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve been in meetings worse than this.”
“Got anything that could help us get out of here?”
What did she have in her pockets? A bit of chewed up gum in a tissue, the keys to her car, her business card with the white text on solid black—that she’d designed specifically to look better than the ones Evolvecorp gave out. They were her only major rival and the skanky bitch of a rabbit that ran it had turned down Emilia’s merger offer. Before cracking herself up by saying Emilia’s ass should be considered its own development and taxed.
“No secret gadgets, unfortunately.”
“We might have to drink our own sweat,” he joked.
“You’re just lucky you’re not a big fat furball like me. I’m baking over here.”
“You’re not that fat.”
“That’s nice of you to say. But I’m probably the reason this thing broke down in the first place.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve got a tough job. I’m sure no one blames you for not having time to work out.”
How was she letting a 13 year old kid be the mature one in the situation? Keeping calm while she just wanted to vent about her body image problems. God, she wanted to tell him she wasn’t normally like this and that it was just her heat making her act stupid.
She looked at his skinny body, his ribs slightly visible on the sides. His chest slowly rising and falling. His pale, sweaty skin. She was having insane thoughts.
“Don’t do it. You want to be tomorrow’s headline? There’s no double mint chocolate ice cream in prison.”
He was hard again. Oh God, she noticed he was hard again. The bulge was sticking up noticeably in his sweat-soaked shorts that were sticking to his legs. He must have been daydreaming about a girl he liked or something. In this tiny little cube, the smell of his pheromones was like a cloud around her head.
In his black void of tranquility, Damian was thinking about that tiger girl at school. She was in the grade above him and he didn’t know her name, but he’d caught a good long look at her white panties with the cherry patterns a little while ago when she was going up the stairs in front of him. Her tail had accidentally brushed his face and he still remembered what it felt like.
He was also thinking about his parents. They were both chronic worriers and must have been absolutely sick. If only he had his phone, he could have at least called them and told them he was alright.
“Damian,” he heard Emilia say.
He lifted the shirt, “What’s up?”
She was kneeling in front of him. Her fur was matted with sweat and she was breathing heavily, with a kind of wild look in her eyes. She was close enough he could see down her unbuttoned shirt.
“I’m sorry...”
“What do y—” He didn’t have time to finish before she wrapped her paws around the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. He could feel her soft tongue tickling the inside of his mouth and tasted her cherry lipstick. The scent of her perfume filled his nose. He was so shocked he didn’t know how to react. He didn’t try to push her off, though. It would have felt...ungrateful? Was that it? She’d been so nice to him before, when he was about to cry like a big stupid wuss.
He put his hands on her furry cheeks and let his own tongue do some of the work. After a little while of this, he tapped her on the shoulder. He needed to come up for air.
Emilia let go and now she was the one crying. Tears were streaking down her face. She started to blurt out an apology as thoughts of prison and social ruin flooded her already overloaded brain. He’d go to his parents and they’d go to the police and she’d be kicked out of the company and lose her marriage and kids and...
“I’m so, so sorry,” she said through sobs. “It’s just I’m—”
“In heat?”
“Wait, you know—”
“Of course I know. I’ve got the internet. And I’ve heard the anthro girls in my class talking about it. You go sex crazy once every couple of months, right?”
She couldn’t believe him. He really was the adult of the two of them. She tried to switch it back. “Well, that’s still no excuse for what I did. Consent is very—”
“You wanna keep going?”
“Oh absolutely.”
They launched into each other. Kissing and groping furiously. Damian had his hand down her blouse and in her bra, squeezing her tit. She had her paw down his shorts and was fondling his stiff cock. Wow he felt big. She was very curious.
She took her tongue out for a second to ask him, “Just how big is this thing? You feel like a porn star down there.”
Damian blushed, “Yeah, it’s a... decent size.” He pulled his shorts and his cute little undies down to whip it out. “You’re the first girl that’s ever seen it, though.”
At the sight of it, something in Emilia’s brain malfunctioned. She lost all control of herself as hormones flooded every cell in her body and put themselves firmly in the driver’s seat. She plunged her mouth onto it and started sucking like she was giving CPR. She coiled her tongue around the shaft and squeezed—a trick she’d learned in college. She was pleased to know she hadn’t lost her touch in all these years, as Damian looked like he was having an out-of-body experience.
Girl, you may be fat, out of shape, with kids and in your late 30s, but you still know how to deliver the goods, huh?
Damian’s back was arched, his face pointed at the ceiling as he moaned with pleasure, his voice rising and falling, getting faster and slower. “ugh...ughh...UGHH..”
She’d taken enough virginities to know your right hand didn’t prepare you for the real thing. Oh what she would have given to do it for the first time again.
When he came, there was so much Emilia gagged on it. Damian contorted like a gymnast doing a back-bend and let out a long “Ohhhhhhh” before his body went limp and he collapsed on the floor of the cramped little elevator, eyes closed, chest heaving, with a smile across his face.
“How was it?”
“I...yeah...oh...”
It was only then that she remembered the security camera in the corner. It was one of those ones on a swivel. She reached up and turned it to face the back wall, flashing it with a heap of cleavage in the process. Oh well, what was done was done.
The heat was back almost immediately. God damn it. Her husband was battle tested, he could keep going and going like the bunny in the commercial. But Damian was still just a kid, and ten minutes ago had still been a virgin. She didn’t want to break him.
He was sitting legs out in front on the floor, his blonde hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, big limp cock between his legs. He was looking at her with this goofy, eager sort of smile.
“You wanna take the rest of it off?”
She was actually caught off guard a little. He was so forward. “ I can’t believe you don’t have a girlfriend with confidence like that.”
He deflated a little. “I’m usually pretty shy, actually. I mean look at me.” He flexed his skinny arm to show there wasn’t even a hint of bicep. “I don’t mind the way I look in private, it’s just around other people it’s a problem.”
Emilia was about to give him her ‘mom talk’ on confidence and self-esteem, but then she realized she was still fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. She hadn’t actually taken it off—was she hesitating? Why? Was she really afraid of him seeing her body? She’d just sucked his soul out, what did she have left to hide?
He was sitting there naked as the day he was born, showing her everything he had with a smile on his face. She owed him the same.
“It’s just...” God, she felt so stupid saying this to someone less than half her age. “I’m...”
“Fat? So what? Fat’s soft and who doesn’t like soft? Who wants to sleep in a hard bed with hard blankets at night? Who wants to pet a hard bunny. They might get this elevator working any second, so take it off, I wanna see.”
Oh, kid, where did you come from?
Emilia slowly undid each button of her blouse, hesitating when she reached the problem area over her tummy.
“Come on, take it off. My mom says people have to be proud of their body. And she works for you, which means you’ve gotta be smarter than her.”
She undid the final button and flung the blouse away. She was left sitting there with absolutely nowhere to hide—every roll and bit of sagging asymmetry on full display. And she had no one to blame but herself. No one else had forced her to eat like a pig. Or make excuses for why she couldn’t hit the gym.
Damian scooted his butt across the floor to get closer.
“You’re really pretty. You’ve got a nice body. Now lemme see all of it.”
Her brain was about to file his compliment into the trashcan and just dismiss it as him just being polite, except he was rock hard again. Oh no, he definitely wasn’t just being polite.
She unhooked her black-lace bra and let out a sigh. Oh it felt good to let the girls out. This relief was undercut as they sagged down and rested on the top of her belly. Even if she lost weight, they probably wouldn’t ever stand on their own again.
It took a bit of a struggle to get her skirt off. Again, Emilia had no one else to blame—as she was in denial and refused to admit to herself she needed a bigger size. Her matching lace panties followed and she was as naked as Damian. But somehow felt a thousand times more visible.
“I’m still sore, so I’ll need a little while before we can do it again. You wanna try exposure therapy?”
Emilia wiped sweat off her forehead. “What’s that?”
“It’s when you’re afraid of something, the best way to get over it is just to do it. When I was a kid, I was really scared of the dark. And you know how I got over it? By just turning the light off and dealing with it.”
“When you were a kid?” she thought. “You’re 13.”
She could tell from his face that he was absolutely eager to help. “Alright, how bad could it be?”
That question was answered immediately as he took one of her fur-covered love handles and shook it gently, sending her whole body rippling. In her heat-crazy state, she’d done pretty much every sex act you can think of. With her husband, with escorts, with complete strangers. None of it had ever phased her. So why was this, the tiny little act of having one of her rolls squeezed, making her face burn and embarrassing her like she was a kid again?
“That’s enough,” she said weakly.
He stuck his finger in her bellybutton and it disappeared. “Wow, look how deep that is.”
“Please, I—”
He slapped the underside of her belly a few times, “It’s like jelly. Your whole body’s like a big plush toy. Stretch out your arm.”
Oh no, please not there. My planet-sized butt, the double chin, the thunder thighs, just not—
She did as he asked, pressing her eyes firmly shut like she was about to get a shot at the doctor’s.
He patted and jiggled and poked at the fat hanging off. “I think this is the softest part.”
“I hate my arms,” she muttered.
“I love your arms.”
“You’re just a kid, you don’t know how the world works.”
“Nah, but you’ve got nice arms.”
She could have died. “How long does this exposure therapy thing take?”
“Uh, took me about a year. You’ll have to do it yourself in the mirror.”
Aside from having to personally tell people they were fired, or getting a fang out with no anesthetic, there wasn’t anything Emilia Vulpine would have liked to do less than wobble her own fat around in front of a mirror.
“I think I’m ready to put it in now. I’ve never actually, you know, done it for real before, but I’ve seen a lot of porn.”
As mature as he was, Emilia liked it when the little kid in him shone through. She laid down as best she could (there was barely room) and spread her thighs. “Be gentle, alright? Just nice and slow, it’s not li—oh, OH...”
He’d hit the bullseye with his first thrust. It was probably just a fluke, but whenever she was with someone new, it usually took them a while to find her sweet spot and she’d have to talk them through it. It probably helped that he was punching so far above his weight in terms of cock size.
Damian had his hands on her belly to steady himself as he made cautious, gentle little thrusts into her. “Am I doing it right?”
Her voice quivered, “Yeah, yeah, just like that.” In that moment, she didn’t even care that he was touching all her gross fat bits. That his fingers were sinking into her flesh. There was no way this was his first time. It couldn’t be.
Her boobs were hanging sort of sideways and every time Damian pushed, they’d bounce a little. “Is this uhh really your first time?” she asked breathlessly. If you wanted any more proof how out of shape she was, a 13 year old was doing all the work and she was the one exhausted.
His pale face was flushed red and dripping with sweat. “Yeah. I told you, girls aren’t interested in me. I like anthros like you, but most of them don’t want human guys.”
“They’re missing uhh out.” She felt him get faster. “Slow it down, no need to rush. It’s not a sprint to the finish line.”
“Oh, okay.” He followed her instruction and went back to a more relaxed pace. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure, anything.”
“Can you give my parents a raise? I want a new Xbox for Christmas.”
Emilia almost ruined the sex by breaking out into uncontrollable laughter. Her driver was a hyena woman and she was laughing like her when she read the funny pages. “Yeah, absolutely. What are their names?”
“Abigail and Melvin White. They do your ads and stuff.”
She reached up and stroked his sweat-covered face with the back of her paw. “When we get out of here, I’ll take care of it personally.”
As much of a natural as he turned out to be, in the end he was still just a kid and nutted before Emilia was finished. She wasn’t even disappointed though. It had been an absolute joy while it lasted.
He was sitting in his corner facing the wall, with his arms folded on his knees. “I’m really sorry,” he said for the millionth time.
“Really, it’s fine. You should have seen my first time. The guy couldn’t figure out how to fit it in, and I ended up pulling a muscle. Neither of us even came close to finishing.
He didn’t turn around, but Emilia could see he was laughing.
The phone on the wall rang and surprised both of them. There was a moment where they both were looking at each other, unsure which of them would pick it up. Damian ended up answering.
“Hello?”
“Yeah”
“It’s just two of us. Damian White and Emilia...uh...”
“Vulpine,” she said.
“Vulpine,” he repeated. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s that one.”
“Nah, we’re alright. It’s just hot as hell and we’re thirsty.”
Emilia was looking at him and he gave her a reassuring thumbs up.
“Yeah, alright. Thanks.” He put the phone back. He closed his eyes and rubbed the skin around them.
“What did they say?”
“They think another half hour, maybe.”
“Oh thank God. I’m gonna fire every maintenance person in the building, then I’m suing the company that made this deathtrap, then—”
“It was nice meeting you.”
Emilia’s heart felt like it did a backflip. She grabbed Damian and pulled him into a big furry mom hug. “Oh, it was good to meet you too. I’d have gone crazy in here without you.”
“I mean, you kinda went crazy anyway.” His voice was muffled in her fur.
She had an idea. A devious one. “Half an hour they said?” She lowered her voice to her best sultry whisper, “anything else you wanna do while we’ve got time?”
“Well...”
“Mhm?”
“There is one thing I’ve always wanted to try.”
That thing turned out to be something she’d never heard of. Apparently he’d seen it in anime and it was called “paizuri” where she used her boobs to jerk him off. The positioning was kind of awkward because of their height difference. He had to lay on the ground, and she hovered over him to do it. As much as he insisted it was fine and he could take it, Emilia refused to lay her whole weight on him. She wasn’t gonna have a suffocated kid on her conscience—even though he would have absolutely died with a smile on his face.
After he’d blown a big load in between her cleavage, she’d asked him if it was as good as in his anime. He’d responded with a thumbs up as he lay with his eyes closed, panting.
He’d insisted on trying penetration again, still wanting to prove himself. And to his credit, he did much better his second time. He lasted a good five minutes before he came, and then had actually managed to finish her off with his tongue, with some coaching and instruction from her.
She did relent and agreed to a bit of squashing. He stood against the wall and she used her full weight to envelop him. First from the front, then she backed up against him with her big butt.
When the sound of the elevator’s motor started again, they were both so exhausted they barely even noticed. ‘I have Nothing’ started up again as if it had never stopped. In the hour they’d been trapped, Emilia had come four times and Damian five. It was a hell of a start to his sex life, that’s for sure.
Damian was smiling, but he looked tired, haggard. He was probably dehydrated, too. Emilia wondered if she’d gone too hard on him. She was already thinking about the care package she’d send him.
“Guess this is it,” he said. We should put our clothes back on.”
“What, you don’t want to greet the first responders naked?”
“Mmm, nah, I’m good.”
She gave him a squeeze on his cute little butt, and he gave her one back on her big fat furry one.
He hiked his shorts back up and slipped his shirt over his head. “I think I’m gonna sleep for a week after this.”
She envied how easy it was for guys to dress themselves. She pulled her panties up, then sucked in the gut to fit back into her skirt. “Can you get my bra? Just hook it in the back.”
He took the opportunity to grope her a bit as he did it. Even at this point, both of them could have probably gone at least one more round. They might not have survived to the end, but the spirit was there at least.
“God, we must look terrible,” she said.
“You look just as good as when we got in.”
“Aww, come here.” She hugged him again, and kept hold the whole way down. “You know, my heat usually lasts a week. And my husband is still out of town. How’d you like to come back tomorrow?”
“What, to the elevator?”
She ruffled his hair, “no, goofball. I’ve got a penthouse office on the top floor. With a nice big couch and air-conditioning. I can order from any place in the city. We can have chocolate strawberries or fast food or whatever you like. And...” she sighed, “we can do more of your ‘exposure’ therapy.”
His face lit up hearing that. “Sure. I’ll be here right after school.”
In truth, they both looked (and smelled) exactly like you would expect two people who just spent the last hour having sex in an unairconditioned elevator to look and smell. Right before the doors dinged open, Emilia switched back to CEO mode. They were met by a crowd of firefighters and paramedics. Beautiful cold air flooded in. Oh god it felt like heaven.
From the crowd, Damian spotted his parents. Emilia felt a lump in her throat as she watched him rush to them and saw them all meet in a crying embrace. What a good kid he was. She stomped past all the people asking if she was okay, all the corporate lackeys in suits and the reporters barking questions. She grabbed a bottle of water someone offered, finished it in seconds and threw the empty bottle on the ground. She had several things on her mind.
First, she needed to find and destroy that security tape. If even the bit it had captured ever got out, God help her.
Second, she was going to see that the person responsible for that elevator grew old in prison.
Third, she was going to go up to her office, pass out on the couch and dream of her next wonderful evening with Damian. She was already counting down the minutes. Whenever she woke up, she’d make sure his parents got their promotion. They’d raised a fine young man.