Erotic Story:
The Closet Fuck

  This is about the day I went into the closet. We'd been taking inventory at work, late on a Saturday. We'd put it off for as long as we could, it was a bitch of a job, and everybody had somewhere else they'd rather be. I'd volunteered to help Chas put the supplies away. We hauled the shit into the big storage closet, and I bumped the wooden block as we walked in. Chas whipped around and said "Don't....let the door close." I turned around at the dull thud behind me. I shrugged, went over and tried the handle. Wouldn't move. I shook it. Not a tremor. I looked at Chas. "It's broken," he said quietly. "We can't get out from the inside."
We pounded on the door an howled for about an hour, then gave up. We were fucking stuck in there until Monday morning.

   As far as temporary prisons go, it wasn't too bad. It was the only storeroom, so it had all sorts of stuff in it, including food, drink, a small bathroom, a single cot the owner used when he got pissed off at his lover, a radio with extra batteries, and several bottles of really cheap whiskey. Chas sat on the cot, rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head. I'm a pacer. I paced back and forth, every once in a while looking down at Chas. Funny guy, Chas is. So smart he's scary, competent, reliable...that's how everybody thinks of him. You have to look twice to realize he's got dark, burning brown eyes, a classic face, and a full, tender mouth. I kept pacing, and tried to ignore the bulge in my jeans, and suddenly got scared as hell about what I was doing.
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