Mister Moneybags(2)

“What’s all that rustling?” he asked.

“I’m trying to find them. They’re somewhere in my bag.” Without light, I wasn’t able to easily locate them. “Shit, where are they?”

He chuckled. “I have some balls you could massage if you’re in a pickle.”

“You’re disgusting. Keep your balls and your pickle away from me, please.”

“Oh, come on. I’m not serious. Lighten up. You’re the one who brought up massaging balls. We’re stuck in a dark elevator. I was trying to make a joke, for f*ck’s sake.”

Finally able to locate the Baoding balls, I said, “Okay, here they are.” I took a deep breath and began to rotate them in my hand, focusing on the soothing sounds of the metal rubbing together.

“They chime. How nice,” he said in a seemingly sarcastic manner. “What exactly are you doing with them?”

“Rotating them.”

“This actually does something for you?”

“Yes.” After a few minutes, I turned to him. “Open your hand.” I placed the balls in his palm. “Keep them separated with the use of your index finger.” When I could feel him using the wrong finger to position the balls, I said, “No, I said index finger, not middle finger.”

“Ah, good. Better rest my middle finger anyway. I may need to lift it repeatedly if this elevator doesn’t move anytime soon.”

“You’re not taking this seriously. Give them back to me.” I took them from his hand.

“I once went on a date with a woman who leaned over the table to tell me that she had some metal balls stuck up her hoo-ha.”

“Ben Wa balls.”

“Ah. So, you know of them?”

“Yes.”

“Well, aren’t you the balls expert. Ever use the Ben Wa balls?”

“No. I don’t need balls to have an orgasm.”

“Is that right?”

I couldn’t see it, but I could feel him smiling at me.

Shaking my head, I said, “Okay, this conversation is just getting weird.”

“Just now getting weird? I believe this encounter started getting weird the moment you broke my eardrum.”

This whole situation was so ridiculous. Suddenly, I started to laugh. The metal balls slipped out of my hand onto the elevator floor and rolled away.

“You dropped your balls.”

The deadpan way he said it caused me to laugh even harder. He joined me, and we were both officially laughing hysterically. This situation was making us both delirious.

Eventually, we were sitting on the ground with our backs against the wall. A few moments of silence passed. It hit me that he smelled really freaking good. It was like a mix of cologne and a manly scent that was all his own. I wondered if he was even attractive. I had to admit, his voice alone was sexy as hell.

I finally asked, “What do you look like?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation.”

I could feel his words vibrating against me when he leaned in. “What do you think I look like?” His voice really was very arousing.

I cleared my throat. “You actually have a really nice voice, very mature. I kind of picture you as an older, distinguished man. Maybe you look like James Brolin.”

“I’ll accept that.”

“What about me?” I asked.

“Well, see, I got a look at you—from behind. So all I really know is that you have an amazing ass and nice teeth, since they’re practically glowing in the dark.”

My breathing was starting to become a bit labored.

He must have sensed my nerves acting up again when he chided, “If you’re about to yell like a hyena again, why don’t you at least yell for some help. Put that shit to good use.”

I got up suddenly and began to bang on the elevator doors. “Help! Help!”

My cries for help were to no avail.

“Okay, you can stop now.”

Rejoining him on the ground, I felt another wave of panic coming on. It was really hard to fight these feelings without any visual distractions. I had never had to deal with this in the pitch dark before.

“Can you hold my hand again?”

“Sure,” he simply said.

He tightly enveloped my hand in his. Without visual stimuli, I focused on the other senses, particularly smell and touch. Relishing the feel of his big, warm hand and breathing in his scent, I closed my eyes and tried to calm down.

He suddenly jumped and let go of me. “Light!”

My eyes flashed open to find that the lights in the elevator car had turned back on.

“Light!” I screamed.

When I turned to instinctively hug him, I stopped short, and my heart nearly skipped a beat. I took him in for several seconds. This guy was far more handsome than I could ever have imagined—to the point where I was now painfully embarrassed by everything that had ensued in the darkness.

He looked nothing like James Brolin. He was younger, hotter, more rugged. I’d put him in his early thirties.

My elevator mate had dark, inky-colored hair, long around the ears and buried under a baseball cap that was turned backwards. His eyes were a striking steel blue, and he was sporting just the right amount of chin scruff over his beautifully defined jaw.