The sweet smell of sweet breads.

Crystal swore under her recently freshened breath as her high heel cracked beneath her. The gum in her mouth caught in the back of her throat and she gagged like a cat expelling a recently formed hair ball. Although she had experienced many embarrassing moments in her life - like the time at the University of Florida when she accidentally walked into a wet t-shirt contest on her way to an interview, forcing her to show up with her white oxford sticking translucently to her dark, hershey kiss shaped nipples - this might be the worst one yet. As her smooth, tanned leg folded underneath her, the skirt her much shorter roommate had lent her crept up her backside, revealing the red lace of her skimpy thong.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." She mumbled, trying to right herself, pull down her skirt, take off her heels, and mask the gag with a series of small coughs while maintaining some semblance of grace and poise. Just as she had finally stood up and put herself back together, sans shoes, she heard a noise behind her.

"Ahem."

She turned around. Standing behind her was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. He was tall, with the broad shoulders of a lumber jack. His neck bulged with lean, sinewy muscles and his skin was dark and musty against the pale pink of his button down shirt. He was smiling at her with a Cheshire Cat grin, his white teeth shining like a row of perfectly groomed soldiers, saluting her and mocking her at the same time. A dark stubble covered the landscape of his tanned cheeks and his eyes shone with the bright blue of precious sapphires.

"I was going to help you up," he purred at her, a lion sizing up his lunch. "But it was more fun to watch you help yourself."
Crystal was flabbergasted. Not only was this man absolutely stunning, with a vibrating charm that pulsed with sexuality, his voice dripped over her like sweet molasses, hardening around her vocal cords and making it impossible for her to answer. This man just saw my thong, she thought, and wondered if she was more mortified or more turned on.
"Listen," he continued, "where do you need to go?"
She swallowed carefully and told him the name of the woman with whom she was supposed to be meeting. "Well, you'll need to take the elevator," he answered, and with one, strong, muscular hand he took her elbow and guided her roughly through the open doors.

As they watched the numbers climb towards the fourteenth floor, where Crystal knew she would have to get off, something came over her. Maybe it was the way the small, dark hairs of his chest beckoned playfully from the top of his shirt. Maybe it was the forceful manner in which he had led her into the elevator. Maybe it was the sweet smell of his cologne or the sour tang of his breath. Whatever it was, Crystal did something she had never done before. Something she had never thought she would ever do. She pressed the emergency button and stopped the elevator.

She turned back around and saw the same look of amusement and appreciation in the man's eyes. He crept toward her like a cat about to pounce on his prey. Her round, perky breasts rose and fell quickly as she stood there, waiting for what seemed like an eternity for him to touch her. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her toward her. She felt his bulge thicken against her thigh as he lightly pulled on the skin of her neck with his teeth. Beads of sweat flowed between her breasts, down her taut, glistening abdomen as she buried her fingers in his thick, curly brown hair. "Take me," she groaned as his tongue darted in and out, teasing the essence of her aching womanhood.

He worked his way slowly down, from her ear lobe to the v of skin that her shirt revealed. Then he carefully unbuttoned each button, biting her gently and sucking softly on her breasts and stomach. She moaned and felt her red thong dampen between her legs. The stranger responded by pulling her leg up around his waist and pressing her hard against the elevator wall. He let his fingers trace the valley behind her knee, trail up the back of her thigh, and feel the moist wetness of her vagina. He let one finger explore the area, then two, then three. Before she knew it, his entire fist was inside of her, causing explosions of pleasure to devastate her body like an atomic test ground. He allowed her to teeter on the brink of orgasm, and then he pulled out his fist and grabbed her arm, telling her gruffly to lie down on her stomach. She did so, panting with anticipation as he carefully pulled her skirt up towards her head and pulled her thong down around her ankles. He entered her from behind, thrusting so deep she felt like he was touching her soul with his glistening, gigantic member. Quickly, she felt the blood rushing between her thighs, the exquisite pain of her orgasm pulsing under her skin, up her body, and out her fingers. She screamed. She couldn't help it. But he wasn't quite done. Just as he came, he pulled out his bratwurst and she felt the warmth of his semen spilling over her soft, prostrate buttocks. It dripped down her like opalescent tear drops, leaving a pearly trail of passion.
The stranger stood up and pulled his pants back on. He restarted the elevator as Crystal pushed down her skirt and put on her underwear. Just as they reached the fourteenth floor, he pulled her towards him, kissed her hard and long on the mouth, and whispered in her ear:
"Nice underwear."