Reaching aNew Record
In this narrative, we have a spin-off from the "Cross Contamination" series, featuring Victor Cross as the lead character. For those who want to see what Victor can accomplish with extra time and resources, check out that series!
...
Grace DeWitt struggled to catch her breath, trying to regain her composure. The imposing figure next to her rubbed her back with a comforting hand, his palm moving gently in slow circles.
Grace slowly managed to regain control, pulling away from the attractive older man with a flush and saying, "Thank you. Thank you so much... Um..."
"Victor," the confident man replied with a gentle smile. "Should we shake? It feels a bit odd after we've already hugged."
Grace chuckled nervously, offering a hand. "Grace," she said nervously, attempting to loosen up. "Glad you're here, Victor. It's not just me." The massive handshake from the big black man was warm yet not overly powerful, as expected from Victor's comforting presence. His very presence was a tremendous comfort to Grace, a massive relief given her distressing fear of confined spaces and elevators. She felt terrified at the thought of being stranded alone in this situation.
Victor sighed and sat down, pressing his back against the elevator wall. "I'm glad you're here too, Grace. The previous time I was in one of these things, I was stuck alone for hours."
This thought brought chills to Grace's spine. Hours? The idea was frightening for her.
"Grace?" she heard Victor's voice, seemingly far away. Suddenly, strong arms were holding her again - she was sitting close to him, both on the floor of the elevator.
Feeling reassured and feeling safer with this stranger's big arm looped over her shoulder, holding her close to his muscular chest. Yet, it was inappropriate for a young woman with a fiancé. She attempted to free herself, but Victor pulled her closer. "Oh no, little lady," he said seriously, "The last thing we need is for you to faint. You're staying right here next to me until the technicians figure this out. Let's pass the time by talking."
Victor peered down at her from his tall stature, smiling gently. "I'm also glad you're here, Grace. What brings you to the building?"
"It's my first day at work," she said ruefully, "I was heading down to the lobby to meet my fiancé for lunch to congratulate me. Where do you work?"
"Cross Advertising," Victor replied nonchalantly.
"Wow, me too!" Grace whispered excitedly. "What's your role there?"
"CEO," Victor grinning cockily.
Grace's mouth dropped open in amazement as she stared in awe at her boss. Crap. For the past 10 minutes, she had been acting like a frightened little girl in the presence of Victor Cross. Yet, she portrayed herself as a strong, no-nonsense woman during her job interviews who could complete tasks. So, how had she ended up appearing weak and vulnerable?
Victor studied Grace's large, expressive eyes thoughtfully. Grace DeWitt was beautiful, with a bright, wholesome look, soft brown hair, an appealing smile, and a smattering of freckles. She had a pleasant physique that he could feel while he pressed this young woman to his side.
Victor, as a tiger, couldn't resist pouncing on her sudden weakness. He found her attractive enough, but there were others just as beautiful. However, she was the only woman he could get his hands on, and he was getting a little bored. That was all the reason he needed.
Victor tossed Grace an olive branch, appraising her fear. "Let's talk about something different, Grace. What are your hobbies?"
"Um, well, I... You see, Victor," Grace stammered, trying to boost her standing with this important figure after her unimpressive start.
Grace exhaled, accepting Victor's words. It wasn't the right time to network, and maybe getting intimate with the CEO could prove more advantageous than just impressing him. Grace was often ambitious. She should utilize this chance to win him over.
"I'm fond of knitting," she expressed hesitantly. It wasn't the most enthralling hobby, but it had the virtue of being authentic.
"I appreciate that," responded Victor. "Creating something with your own hands is a dying art. It's more remarkable than my hobby."
Grace felt delighted by his thoughtful comment. Others regarded her as an old-fashioned person when she mentioned her fondness for knitting. "And what about your hobby, Mr..... I mean, Victor?" she inquired, flashing him a smile.
"Wooing women."
The words slipped out smoothly and casually from him that it took a moment for Grace to understand. She blinked then her eyes widened. "What?" she inquired softly. She teetered between being repulsed and amused, but a naughty wink from Victor tilted her decision. She let out a hearty chuckle. "Are you serious?"
"Absolutely, Grace," Victor replied with a crafty grin. "It's a skill, and I'm one of its masters."
Grace cast him a new glance. This man was quite confidently claiming to be irresistible to women. While he did have a pleasant scent, well-defined muscular chest under his suit, and a dashingly handsome face, he had to be joking, or at the very least, exaggerating.
It would be wiser to play along with the joke.
"So, stud," she said, nuzzling closer to her boss. "What's the quickest you've ever managed to seduce an unattainable woman?"
Victor chuckled. "It's not about speed, it's about thoroughness. It's how deep I can make these women submit after they swore they wouldn't. But if you're curious, my personal record, in terms of time, is an hour."
Grace's eyes grew wider. "Wait... so, it was a woman you knew, and as soon as you commenced trying to seduce her, it only took an hour?" Grace assumed she could see that. If they were friends beforehand and there was already a spark there. A well-placed phone call, bottle of wine... an hour could be a long time if one knew their target.
"No," said Victor smugly. "Set apart from picking up women in bars. I go after women who believe they cannot be seduced. Women who are taken. Women who think they are above me. Women who hate me. I change their minds."
Grace scrutinized her employer. This man was brazenly claiming to be irresistible to women. Of course, he smelled pleasant, had a chest with muscles firm enough to feel through his suit, and a chiseled handsome face. But he had to be exaggerating, or more likely, jesting.
The ideal decision was to engage in the joke.
"So then, player," she said, snuggling further into Victor's side. "What's your fastest time for seducing an unavailable woman?"
Victor laughed. "Ah, Grace, it's not really about speed. It's about completeness. Just how deeply I can make these women surrender when they swore in their hearts they wouldn't. But if you must know, by my personal record, time-wise, it's an hour."
Grace scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Well, it doesn't count if you just randomly run into a slut, Victor."
Victor shrugged, the movement accentuating the muscular hold of his strong arm. "If she was a slut, I'm confident her husband and two children would be surprised. I don't like that word... 'slut'. I reckon it carries a deceptive distinction. Being a slut is not about who you are, Grace, it's about the situation. Every woman is a slut in the right circumstance."
Grace recognized she should cut it off there. But her boss's powerful body held her close, his eyes burning with intensity, his tone masculine and dominant and assertive... She felt a desire to listen more. To know where the handsome man was going with this. "Context?" she asked breathily, her gaze shining like a deer in the headlights.
"A woman needs two things to become her true slutty self," Victor retorted flatly. "One," he said, holding up a thick finger, "is opportunity. A woman has to believe risking engaging in slutty behavior won't be detrimental. She needs to think she can keep it a secret, or that her reputation wouldn't be damaged if people found out. In my one-hour case, that desirable woman was on an anniversary trip with her spouse. Her spouse went unconscious, drunk as a skunk on their anniversary evening. Nobody else on the island knew them, and there's no way he could catch us if we had sex."
Grace contemplated how she was alone in the elevator with this man. How it would be several hours before anyone disturbed them. How much time they would have together that no one but the two of them would know about...
Victor smirked, a devilish look in his eyes, "What I'm about to say is number two on my list. This isn't for others, but rather for oneself. Especially the independent ladies who I'm so drawn to; these women can't stand the thought of admitting they're sluts. They need a reason to justify their actions. This particular case featured a woman who'd had too much to drink and was furious her spouse couldn't satisfy her on their anniversary night. Drunk and emotionally overwhelmed, these two factors make for perfect excuses."
Grace, frightened by the stalled elevator and the advancements from her commanding boss, was trying to rationally process the situation. It's not fair if she gave in, considering she has a fiance.
Grace's gaze dropped in horror as she observed a large bulge swelling along the side of Victor's suit pants. Surely, it couldn't be... His cock?
"I... hope you're not attempting to misinterpret my actions, sir," she interrupted, blushing deeply, "I am taken, so while I'm flattered, I can't..."
Victor leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. The kiss was firm, yet gentle, drawing Grace in with a persistent intensity. She reluctantly responded with equal fervor, yielding to her boss's advances.
Pulling away, Victor made a mocking comment, "So you're claiming to be an unattainable woman? I suppose I'd better stop then..." He then lifted Grace's hand and placed it on the painful pressure forming in his pants.
"Have you ever seen a massive, black cock?" Victor inquired in a quiet voice.
Her eyes wide with shock, Grace responded, "I... can only recall my experiences with Freddie."
"Would you like a closer look?" Victor insinuated slyly, noticing the longing brewing in Grace's fiery blue eyes. She hesitantly looked up at her older colleague, struggling to stay faithful to her finace while giving in to forbidden desires.
"No, Victor; I can't possibly be considered a slut!" Despite this protest, he lifted the zipper of his trousers. Grace watched the phallic shape emerge, long, thick, and dark. Beautiful in all its dripping splendor.
"Now, let's take it a step further," Victor urged. "Looking at a cock isn't an act of promiscuity, Grace. It's simply curiosity."
Curiosity was building. Held captive in the stalling elevator, Grace knew the situation was hopeless. With this realization, she reached out to touch the lengthy protrusion. She then proceeded to wrap her hand around its base, feeling it's powerful heat and throbbing strength. Its energetic emanation grew stronger; her heart rate increased. She moved hesitantly up his rod and back, continuing this mesmerized motion at a rapid pace.
Victor reveled in this moment, watching her climax as her hand sped up. Grace's breathing became faster and wetter, her body thirsty for more. He suddenly stopped her with a hand. "You'll need your mouth for my next command," he stated in a firm tone. Her eyes flared with fatigue and lust. A blend of submission and rebellion. Her mind made one last attempt at denial.
"No," Grace whispered, manically staring into Victor's heated eyes. "I'm not a..."
"You're not a slut. I understand. But I'm an artist. The best at what I do. And I have chosen you to be my next piece. Get ready to worship my cock."
The intense energy radiated from Victor flooded Grace, compelling the relinquishing of all her control. She looked into Victor's eyes, not seeing a man, but a challenge. They reflected dominance and beauty. A bewitching mixture of disgusting arrogance and self-assurance. If she gave in now, she'd just be confirming his assumptions and becoming a slave to sexual wantings. Her pussy increased in arousal, feeling damp and starved for release yet completely confused by her reaction. Victor was an obstacle she couldn't resist. The situation was inevitable. If... If she succumbed to it, it would be purely a reaction to the rules of existence. It wouldn't mean anything more profound than that.
Refraining from making eye contact with her superior, Grace shyly tucked back her tender brown locks behind her ears and latched her lips around the head of his erect phallus. She maintained this position for a short while, feeling the disgrace of yielding to this loathsome guy, experiencing the dominance of his male organ as it breached the mouth that ought to only be for her fiance. Then she commenced moving, bobbing her head downward and downward, bestowing Victor with greater and greater access to her forbidden mouth.
Victor cherished another conquest. Grace was hardly a daunting challenge, of course. Fiance or no, she was a naive young girl who was cowed by his status. However, it wasn't poor quality diversion while he awaited the elevator repair. Grace noisily wet her lips with her saliva, an indication of her growing arousal, which led her to hasten her blowjob tempo and strength. Victor imagined they were sufficiently primed at present.
Victor tapped the lady on the head, then lifted her chin to glance at him up close, her face flushed with passion and indecision, her gaze cloudy with enslaved lust.
"Strip nude, whorish slut."
...
Freddie Hovland paced back and forth in front of the third-floor elevator doors, anxious and biting his hands. He understood that Grace loathed cramped spaces. She would undoubtedly be a mess. It was entirely his fault for coaxing her into accompanying him for lunch today.
At long last, the technicians managed to pry open the doors, exposing the elevator car. The elevator was caught in the midpoint between floors, so when the doors opened, Freddie's vision was filled with his fiance.
His fiance, Grace Dewitt, fully undressed, her tatas bouncing wildly below her, her tailbone thrust forward enticingly, was being anally penetrated by an immense black man. She gazed at Freddie in shock when she witnessed him, but before she could voice anything, the giant black man behind her shoved his massive dick into her completely, his balls constricting as he forcefully ejaculated deep into Grace's engorged pussy, his dominant hand smacking down onto Grace's bouncing rump. A hearty moan echoed out of her throat, and her limbs quivered as she achieved a powerful orgasm, her body excitedly embracing the seed of this supreme man.
The room was still silent for a while, the only noise being the sumptuous lubrication leaking from Grace's used pussy and her gasps of sexual fatigue.
Victor broke the silence initial.
"How long were we trapped in there?"
One of the staggered technicians stated, frightened, "Approximately forty-five minutes."
"Ha!" exclaimed Victor gleefully, wiping the cum off his penis onto Grace's subjugated buttocks beneath him.
"A new personal best!"
Read also:
- Distinguished Academician De Luca
- Office Toilet in S.L: A New Sensation
- Delighting in Chapter 2
- Struggling to Sleep, Part 2
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