Elevator

Did I ever tell you about the time a lady took off her jeans, pulled on some panty hose and a skirt while I was with her in the elevator? Gorgeous blonde she was, too. Executive secretary.  She said pardon me as she pulled off her jeans. I said no problem as she slipped on the panty hose. She tugged and straightened and ran her hands up from toes to up there. I looked away. There were pumps in her purse. We got to her floor. She smiled and was gone.

That was so long ago, but I still think about it sometimes. Not often, maybe once or twice a year. But I’ll think about that elevator ride and I’ll smile, knowing no one really believes that story but me.

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