b

"But it won't make sense if we don't do it together." You snuck up behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder as your hands wrapped around his waist, patting his lower stomach. "No ones gonna know I'm a happy tree if you don't show up as Bob Ross."

Jack pressed the button a couple more times before the elevator began to move, shaking beneath your feet. He turned in your hold, cupping your face in his hands. "Not gonna happen." He gave you a quick peck before you could object, your mouth hanging open in disbelief as you parted. You felt your stomach drop to your feet as the elevator climbed one floor after another.

"I thought you wanted to go as Batman and Catwoman?" You scoffed at his question, having nixed that idea immediately when you heard there was going to be a costume contest at the Halloween party you were attending. "Sexy doesn't win costume contests, babe. Creative does. You already have the hair and everything." Jack smiled as he leaned in to kiss you again, his nose brushing against yours as your lips pressed against his forcefully, causing you to moan into his mouth.

"I don't know. If you show up as a pussy...cat", he lingered with his words, "I think you're taking home all the prizes." You playfully hit his chest, your cheeks turning red. Your gaze dropped to his lips, Jack pulling you in tighter at your invitation. "That costume is strictly for the bed-", you were startled by the elevator coming to a screeching halt. Jack barely caught you by the arm as you stumbled over your heels.

"You okay?" Jack helped you up, receiving a nod from you as you got your barings. "Yes, what happened?"

"I'm not sure." Jack searched the control panel, frantically pressing the penthouse button, which was still illuminated. He listened for any movement, but it was silent, aside for a few creaks above them.

"Jack...", you let out a shaky breath, white knuckling the metal railing.

"Its fine, baby." Jack pulled out his phone, groaning when he realized he didn't have a signal. "We're fine. I'm sure its just a quick problem that they can fix with the press of a button." He was trying to keep you calm, well aware of your claustrophobia.

"How are we supposed to get out of here?" Your voice came out squeaky, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. You pushed past him, aggressively pressing every button on the board, lighting it up like a Christmas tree. "One of these buttons has to make this thing start up again!"

"Babe, I don't think that's going to help." Jack pulled you back, holding you behind him while he pushed the "Call to Help" button. It buzzed for a few seconds before someone picked up the line.

"Building Services."

"Hi, this is Jack Harlow, I live in 13A. We were riding the elevator when it suddenly stopped on the 8th floor."

"Mr. Harlow, so sorry for the inconvenience. Please stay on the line while I contact our maintenance team."

"See?", Jack lifted his eyebrows as he turned to you, seeing that your face had gone pale. He pulled you in close, cradling the back of your head. "They'll send someone to fix the elevator, and then you can put that Catwoman costume on for me tonight." Jack bit on his bottom lip, trying to distract you, but you could barely hear him, your ears ringing.

"Mr. Harlow?" Jack rushed back over to the panel, bending over toward the speaker. "Yeah, I'm here."

"Sir, I'm sorry. Our maintenance team has gone home for the night. We've reached out to emergency services, and they'll be here as soon as they can."

You felt your knees go weak at the thought of having to spend another minute in this enclosed box. “Jack…” you whispered out, this time more like a warning, before you felt yourself collapse to the ground.

“Hey, Hey! Alright.” Jack easily lifted you up, gently pinning you against the wall with his leg. “You’re okay. Hey, babe, look at me.”

You made eye contact with him through labored breaths, trying your best to focus on his face. “I-I can’t be in here anymore. I-I can’t breathe.”

“Listen, let’s just think about something else okay?” He placed his hands on your hips, his digits digging into your flesh. “Like what?” You stiffened in his hold, fear still controlling your body.

“I dunno, tell me more about this Bob Ross costume idea.” You felt Jack’s large hands move to palm your ass, the tips of his fingers grazing the underside of your skirt.

“Jack.” You felt like a broken record at this point, but your call fell on deaf ears again, as Jack latched onto your neck, placing wet kisses below your ear. “Keep talking.” He mumbled against your skin, hiking your skirt to bunch around your waist.

“Well, we just need to tease your hair a little bit, maybe darken your beard with some dye, fuck”, your eyes rolled back as you felt him slip his hand down the front of your panties, pressing against your clit before dragging his index finger through your wet folds.

“Keep going.” His words felt like an invitation for more than just costume discussion, but you were having trouble focusing on anything but they way his hand felt inside of you, as he pressed two fingers into your weeping hole. You lifted your thigh up, pressing your knee between his legs to give him better access, feeling his bulging erection through his jeans.

“I don’t know. I was gonna glue some leaves on myself or something, just don’t stop”, you grunted out, using one hand to grab the back of his neck and steady yourself, your other hand fumbling with his belt buckle, desperately trying to expose his cock.

“Fuck, faster” you moaned out before crashing mouths with Jack, your chest heaving as he pumped in and out of you furiously, his thumb circling your sensitive bud.

“That’s it baby girl, it’s just you and me.” He praised you, feeling you already racing to your peak, your muscles clenching down around his hand. You chest heaved with each thrust, your mind already forgotten about your situation.

Feeling yourself close to orgasm, you made quick work of undoing his zipper, Jack doing the rest as he pulled his length out, precum dripping from the tip.

“Fuck, baby, careful”, Jack groaned as he watched you grab at him, your fingers barely reaching around his girth. He pushed your panties to the side, exposing your glistening pussy to the air. You stroked the head of his cock, grinning as he fell into your hold, before he pressed himself inside of you, your back arching at the stretch.

His first strokes were a mixture of pleasure and pain, the tip of his cock hitting your g spot just right, but your tailbone hitting the railing with each thrust. “Shit, shit, shit.” You gritted out between clenched teeth, lifting yourself up in tandem with his movements. Jack noticed immediately how you pulled away from him, so he spun you around, grabbing your hips and rutting into you with no break, your back arching so more of you was exposed to him.

“Is it wrong that I’m picturing Bob Ross fucking me right now?” You uttered out in jest, your cheek pressed to the metal paneling. Jack let out a deep chuckle before ramming into you again, all of the air leaving your chest.

“Can you not ruin a childhood icon for me right now?”

“Sorry”, you giggled, feeling Jack’s movements begin to stagger as he pushed deeper and slower into you, teetering over the edge of his orgasm. You met each of his thrusts with a push of your hips, slapping your ass against his pelvis, knowing the sound drove him wild.

You were close to your own orgasm, slipping your hand down the front to frantically rub your clit, the coil in your stomach tightening with each passing second.

“Shit, I’m coming, babe.” A shiver traveled down Jack’s spine as he came, his release filling you up as he continued to fuck you, your orgasm traveling through your body, fatigue immediately starting to set in, as you muscles pulsed. You didn't even hear the elevator door begin to open, the firefighter standing on the other side not really sure to make of the situation.

“Uh, excuse me, sir, ma'am. Louisville Fire Department. Everyone okay in here?” The officer cleared his throat, waiving the flashlight around the elevator. Jack quickly pulled away, adjusting himself, pulling his zipper up. He turned away from you, blinking into the light while he shielded you from the firemen so you could collect yourself. You fixed your panties, feeling his warm cum pooling in the cotton. You pulled down your skirt and tucked your hair behind your ears, trying to erase any evidence of your illicit activities. “Yeah, we’re good. Would really love to get out of here, man.”

"We heard some distressing sounds, wanted to make sure we didn't need to call the EMTs." You pinched Jack's side, making him cry out before he could let out the laugh he was working so hard to stifle. "Ow! M-my girlfriend is claustrophobic, she was starting to panic." You wished you had the ability to burn a whole through his head right at that moment.

You stood back as the firefighters worked to open the door, letting you off on the eighth floor. You made a quick glance at the corner of the elevator car, growing wide eyed when you spotted a camera, a camera that probably caught every second of the nasty sex you just had with your boyfriend.

“Thanks so much” you quietly stepped past the men, hurrying to the stairwell out of embarrassment. Jack took his time thanking everyone individually, most of them recognizing him and asking for an autograph or handshake. You were pretty sure they were also congratulating him for all of those "panic" noises they heard.

You stood out of view in the stairwell waiting for Jack. He had an annoying post coital glow about him when he caught up with you, a cocky grin on his face.

“Did you see the fucking camera?” You edged out. “Yes, every elevator has a camera.” He shrugged, nonchalantly.

“You knew?! First we get caught by the firefighters, now the building has us on camera?!” You slapped him on the arm, considerably less playful than earlier in the evening. “You didn’t? What does it matter? It got your mind off your fears, didn’t it?” He furrowed his brow at you, genuinely confused.

You scowled at him, prepared to cuss him out, but held your tongue, too embarrassed to go at it with him tonight. You stomped up the stairs, the first of five flights you’d have to take up to his place.

“Do you think they’ll let me have a copy of that tape?”, Jack called up to you, just smitten with himself. “I think it’s probably some of my best work.”

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