A Personal Best 1

This is a spin-off of my "Cross Contamination" series of stories. It stars Victor Cross, the seductive mastermind. For a longer story, showing what Victor can do when expending a little more time and effort, check out that series!

...

Grace DeWitt breathed heavily, trying to get a hold of herself.

The tall, powerful man currently holding her close rubbed her back with a soothing hand, his massive palm moving in slow circles as he murmured encouragement.

Grace was finally able to get a grip, pulling away from the handsome older man with a blush and saying "Th-thank you. Thank you so much... Um..."

"Victor," said the confident man with a gentle smile. "Should we shake? It feels a little strange after we've already hugged."

Grace gave a shaky laugh, offering a hand. "Grace," she said, trying her best to relax. "Well Victor, I'm glad that you're here, and it's not just me." The big black man's handshake was warm and firm, but not as crushing as Grace feared. His whole presence was comforting, which is luckily exactly what Grace needed right now. She was a little claustrophobic, and hated elevators, so getting stuck in one was a personal nightmare for her.

Victor sighed and sat down, leaning against one wall. "I'm happy you're here too, Grace. The last time I was stuck in one of these it was hours all by myself."

The thought chilled Grace to the bone. Hours? She began to feel faint again.

"Grace? Are you alright?" she heard Victor say from what sounded like far away. Suddenly, strong arms were holding her again and when she felt better, she was sitting close to the large older man, both sitting on the floor of the elevator.

Grace felt her blush return in full force. It was comforting and felt safe and warm sitting like this with this stranger's big arm slung over her shoulder, pulling her close to his muscled torso, but it wasn't right. Not for a young woman with a fiance. She tried to extract herself, but Victor pulled her closer. "Oh no no no, little lady," he said seriously. "The last thing we need is for you to faint. You're staying right next to me until the technicians figure this out. Let's pass the time by talking." Victor looked down at her from his considerable height and smiled. "I haven't seen you around before. What brings you to the building, Grace?"

Grace sighed and gave up, snuggling in a little closer to the handsome man. He was right that she should try not to faint if she could, and his confident commanding presence was calming. Surely her Fiance would understand why she had to get close like this. Victor smelled nice too, some sort of manly, woody cologne. She should bug Freddy about getting something like this.

"It's my first day at work actually," said Grace ruefully, "My fiance was coming to meet me for lunch to wish me well, that's why I was headed down to the lobby. Where do you work?"

"Cross Advertising," said Victor lightly.

"Wow, me too!" said Grace excitedly. "What's your job? Maybe we'll work together."

"Ceo," said Victor, his eyes amused, his mouth pulling up into a cocky grin.

Grace's mouth fell open as she stared dumbfounded up into the eyes of her boss. Fuck. She had been acting like a scared little girl for the past ten minutes since the elevator stopped. She had sold herself in interviews as a tough, no-nonsense woman who could get the job done. It was a description that she found almost always accurate. And now she had convinced the CEO himself that she was a blushing maiden who needed a big strong man to protect her.

Victor cross stared down into the pretty green eyes of his panicking employee. Grace DeWitt was cute. Very good looking in a wholesome, girl-next-door kind of way, with soft brown hair, a winning smile, and a light dusting of freckles. She had a nice body as well, Victor could feel as he pressed the young woman to his side, with soft curves in all the right places.

Cute, but not exceptional. Victor could have found a comparable woman in five minutes if he tried. But Victor was like a tiger. Once he sensed weakness, the urge to pounce was irresistible. Besides, she was the only woman he had access to, and he was a little bored. That was enough.

Victor threw Grace a lifeline, clearly seeing her sudden discomfort. "Let's discuss something else. What are your hobbies, Grace?"

"Ummmm, well, I... You see Mr. Cross..." said Grace, brain still trying to process the sudden revelation. She had to find some way to increase her stock with this important man after starting out so unimpressive.

Victor put a large finger to her lips, an oddly intimate and dominant gesture, which caused a strange spark of heat in Grace's chest. She looked up at his calm face, her eyes wide. "None of this 'Mr. Cross' stuff, Grace," he said firmly. "We're not in a meeting. I introduced myself as Victor. Let's just be people right now, ok?"

Grace let out a breath. Victor was right. Now wasn't the time to network. Besides, getting to know the CEO on a personal level might be more beneficial than impressing him in a business sense. Grace had always been an ambitious person. She should try to use this opportunity to ingratiate herself.

"I... I like to knit," said Grace slowly. Not the most impressive hobby, but it had the advantage of being genuine.

"I admire that," said Victor. "Crafting something with your own hands is a lost art. More people should take up hobbies like that. Much more impressive than my hobby."

Grace felt warmed all over by the thoughtful compliment. Most people just called her an old lady when she admitted she loved knitting. "And what is your hobby, Mr.... I mean, Victor?" she asked, returning his smile.

"Seducing women."

He said it so smoothly and unselfconsciously that at first Grace didn't register what he had said. She blinked, then her eyes grew wide. "What?" she asked in a scandalized whisper. She teetered on the edge of being disgusted and amused, but a saucy wink from Victor tipped her decisively. She let out a burst of incredulous laughter. "Are you serious?"

"Of course, Grace," said Victor with a roguish smile. "It's an art form, and I'm among the best."

"What, you mean like... picking up women at bars?" said Grace with a confused smile, intrigued despite herself.

Victor shook his head emphatically. "No. No, there's no sport in that. Those women are also looking to seduce me. I go after women who think that they can't be had. Women who are taken. Women who think they are better than me. Women who think they hate me. I convince them to change their minds."

Grace looked at her boss in a new light. This man was blatantly claiming that he was irresistible to women. True, he smelled nice, and had a chest with muscles firm enough to feel even through his suit, and had a chiseled handsome face. But he had to be exaggerating, or more likely joking. That was it. Any second he would burst out laughing and she would look gullible.

The correct choice was to play along with the joke.

"So then, stud," she said, snuggling further into her boss's side. "What's the fastest you've ever managed to seduce an unavailable woman?"

Victor chuckled. "Oh Grace, it's not really about speed. It's about thoroughness. How deeply I can make these women submit after they swore in their hearts that they wouldn't. But if you must know, by personal best, time-wise, is one hour."

Grace's eyes widened. "Wait... so, it was a woman you knew, and then once you started trying to seduce her, it only took an hour?" Grace supposed she could see that. If they had been friends beforehand, and there was already a spark there. A well-placed phone call, a bottle of wine... an hour could be a long time if you knew your target.

"Nope," said Victor smugly. "One hour from introduction to penetration."

Grace scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Well, it doesn't count if you just randomly find a slut, Victor."

Victor shrugged, the movement making the encircling grasp of his strong arm even more obvious. "If she was a slut, I think her husband and two kids would be surprised to hear it. I don't like that word... 'slut'. I mean, it certainly has its applications for erotic humiliation, but it draws a false distinction. Being a slut isn't about who you are, Grace, it's about the context. All women are sluts in the right circumstances."

Grace knew that she should shut this line of conversation down. But Victor's strong body holding her close, his eyes burning on hers, his energy masculine and dominant and assertive... She found that she wanted to hear more. Wanted to know where the beautiful man was going with this. "Context?" she asked breathily, her eyes shining like a deer in the headlights.

"A woman needs two things in order to become her true slutty self," said Victor confidently. "One," he said, holding up a thick finger, "Is opportunity. A woman needs to believe that engaging in the slutty behavior won't come back to bite her. She has to think that she can keep it a secret, or that her reputation wouldn't suffer for some reason even if people did know. In my one-hour case, this lovely woman was on an anniversary trip with her husband. Her husband passed out dead drunk on their anniversary night. No one else on the island knew them, and there was no way he could catch us if we had sex. The perfect opportunity."

Grace thought about how she was alone in the elevator with this man. How it would be hours before anyone would disturb them. How much time they would have together that no one but the two of them would ever know about...

"Second," said Victor, a grin spreading across his face, "Is an excuse. Not for other people, but for themselves. Women, especially the strong independent women that I'm after, can't bear to think of themselves as a slut. They need a way to think about the encounter afterward that absolves them. In this particular case, the woman was both a little drunk, and furious and devastated that her husband couldn't perform on their anniversary night. Intoxication and emotional distress: two excellent excuses."

Grace considered her circumstances. She was upset, terrified of the elevator malfunction. Her older boss, who had so much authority over her was clearly flirting with her. Would it really be unforgivable if a woman in her circumstances gave in to the circumstances?

Grace noticed with horror that a large shape was bulging up and swelling along the leg of Victor's suit pants. No way... That couldn't be his cock. It was far too big.

"I... hope that you aren't getting the wrong idea, Victor," said Grace desperately, her blush deepening, " I have a fiance, so while I'm flattered, I can't..."

Victor dipped his head, and his lips were on hers, soft and warm and demanding. Despite her shock, Grace found herself submissively opening her lips for her boss's invading tongue, returning his kiss.

Victor pulled away and smiled. "So you're saying that you're an unavailable woman? One who can't be had? I guess I had better stop then..." he said mockingly. He took Grace's unresisting hand and placed it on the bulge in his pants.

"Have you ever seen a big black cock, Grace?" he asked softly.

Grace shook her head. "I... I've only had sex with Freddie," she said, her eyes wide as she watched her little hand and its size compared to the monstrous bulge.

"Then why don't you just take a look?" suggested Vicor, unzipping his pants. "Looking isn't slutty, Grace. Trust me. It's just curiosity." His massive cock sprang up from his pants, long and thick and a lustrous dark brown. Grace was mesmerized by its size and shape. It was a completely different thing than what Freddy had.

"Do you want to touch it?" asked Victor slyly, noting the fire that was beginning to burn in the eyes of his young employee. She looked up at him with desperate warring desires: to be a good girl for her fiance, and to let her hidden inner slut run wild. "I... We can't Victor! I'm not a slut!" she protested.

"You're not a slut," agreed Victor. "You're just a young woman in a scary situation with an attractive older man, and your emotions got the best of you, right? Besides, touching a cock isn't sex, so it can't be slutty, right?"

Grace felt the powerful energy of the handsome dominant man looming over her, the magnetic pull of his beautiful cock. It would be fine. They would be in here for hours. No one would ever know. And she would get to experience what the powerful ebony cock felt like in her slim little hands.

She reached out and gripped the cock around its base, feeling its iron-hard heat, its pulsing lifeblood. "You should get the full experience," whispered Victor. "Really feel every inch." Her green eyes locked on her boss's fiery gaze, Grace slowly moved her hand up the raging erection until it reached the velvety soft skin of the tip. She held her hand there a moment, sparks flashing between their passionate gaze, then began moving her hand down the shaft of her boss's cock again, gaining speed. She had passed the point of no return. She was no longer feeling his cock. She was jacking it off.

Victor luxuriated in the moment, as his nervous little employee's hand grew faster and faster, her breathing growing more and more hot and wet in her throat as her body busily prepared her for the intercourse it knew was coming, even if she didn't yet.

Victor put a hand on Grace's, stopping her. "I want you to use your mouth," he said firmly, all of his persuasion gone. She looked at him, her eyes already wild with lust, and tried one last time. "Victor, I told you, I'm not a..."

"Not a slut. I know. But I'm an artist, Grace. I'm the best at what I do. And I've decided that you're going to suck my cock."

Grace stared at the infuriating, cocky, beautiful, despicable man who thought he could order her around. A man who was so arrogant he thought his commands were irresistible. If she gave into him right now, she would just be proving him right, submitting to his sexual whims. Her pussy seemed to almost buzz with neediness. She felt lightheaded again, but not from fear. If... If she sucked his cock, it would just be because she was bowing to usual circumstances. It wouldn't mean anything deeper than that.

Avoiding looking her boss in the eyes, Grace slowly bent, pushing her soft brown hair behind her ears, and wrapped her lips around the head of his throbbing cock, just holding it there a minute, feeling the humiliation of giving in to this insufferable man, feeling the power of his male organ as it claimed the mouth that should only be for her fiance. Then she began moving, bobbing her head lower and lower, granting Victor greater and greater access to her forbidden mouth.

Victor luxuriated in another conquest. Grace wasn't exactly a difficult challenge of course. Fiance or no, she was a naive young woman who was intimidated by his position. But not bad work to pass the time while he waited for the elevator to be fixed. Grace made increasingly wet, sloppy sounds as her arousal led her to increase the speed and depth of her blowjob. Well, Victor thought they were both sufficiently warmed up at this point.

Victor tapped the young woman on the head, then raised her chin to look at him when she disengaged, her face reddened from lust and exertion, her eyes dazed with submissive lust.

"Take your clothes off, you fucking slut."

...

Freddy Hovland paced back and forth in front of the third-floor elevator doors, nervously wringing his hands. He knew that Grace hated enclosed spaces. She would probably be a wreck. It was all his fault for making her come out with him today for lunch.

Finally, the technicians pried open the doors, revealing the elevator car. It had been stuck halfway between the floors, so when the doors opened, Freddy was staring his fiance right in the eyes. His brain couldn't process what he was seeing. His beautiful fiance, Grace Dewitt was on her hands and knees, completely naked, her tits swinging wildly beneath her, her butt arched up eagerly into the cock of the massive black man fucking her from behind.

Her eyes widened with shock as she saw Freddie there, but before she could say anything, the large black man behind her thrust his massive cock in to the hilt, his balls tightening as he fired powerful blasts of cum deep into Grace's pulsating pussy, his dominant hand cracking down in a spank to Grace's jiggling ass. A deep moan tore through her throat and her legs shook as she powerfully orgasmed, her body responding to and gleefully accepting the seed of such a superior man.

No one said anything for a moment, the only sound was the thick cum slowly dripping from the young woman's used pussy and her pants of sexual exhaustion.

Victor broke the silence first.

"How long were we stuck in there?"

One of the shocked technicians said, in a stunned voice, "Just over forty-five minutes."

"Well what do you know!" said Victor brightly, wiping the cum off his cock onto the soft ass of the humiliated woman beneath him.

"A new personal best!"