Breed a virgin

The elevator doors slid shut with a soft ding, trapping Clara Caron and her boss, Fred Olsen, in the dim, festive glow of the office holiday lights strung along the panels.

It was late on Christmas Eve, the building mostly empty after the holiday party. Clara clutched her coat, her cheeks flushed from the eggnog she'd sipped to loosen up. At 24, she was the shy secretary who'd spent two years stealing glances at Fred, the powerful CEO in his mid-40s, with his broad shoulders and piercing blue eyes that always seemed to linger on her a beat too long.

"Merry Christmas, Clara," Fred said, his voice low and gravelly, breaking the silence as the elevator hummed downward. He adjusted his tie, the red Santa hat from the party still perched crookedly on his salt-and-pepper hair. "You heading home to family?"

Clara nodded, her heart pounding. She was a virgin, untouched and nervous around men, especially one like Fred—confident, commanding, and far too handsome. "Y-yes, Mr. Olsen. Just my cat, actually. No big plans." Her voice came out smaller than she intended, her fingers twisting the hem of her skirt. She'd always fantasized about him, late nights at her desk imagining his hands on her, but reality terrified her.

Fred leaned against the wall, his gaze tracing the curve of her neck where a stray curl escaped her ponytail. He'd wanted her since the day she started, her soft smiles, the way her blouses hugged her full breasts, her innocent blush whenever he complimented her work.

Tonight, with the office deserted and holiday cheer in the air, his yearning boiled over. "Call me Fred. And you deserve more than a cat for Christmas. Someone to unwrap you properly."

Her eyes widened, breath catching. The elevator jolted suddenly, lights flickering as it ground to a halt between floors. "Oh no," Clara whispered, pressing the emergency button. No response. The air thickened, charged with the scent of her vanilla perfume and his cologne.

Fred stepped closer, his hand brushing her arm. "Looks like we're stuck. Power outage from the storm, probably." His touch sent sparks through her, and she didn't pull away. Instead, she met his eyes, seeing the hunger there, the same forbidden desire she'd hidden for so long.

"Clara," he murmured, his thumb stroking her wrist. "I've watched you every day. The way you bite your lip when you're nervous. I want to taste that lip. I've wanted you for months."

She swallowed hard, her body heating despite the chill seeping in. "Mr. Ol—Fred, I... I'm not like that. I've never..." Her confession hung in the air, her shyness making her cheeks burn crimson.

His eyes darkened with raw need. "A virgin? Fuck, Clara, that makes me want you more." He cupped her face gently, tilting it up. "Let me show you. No one's here. Just us, this Christmas gift." Before she could think, his lips crashed onto hers—firm, demanding, his tongue pushing past her parted lips to claim her mouth.

Clara gasped into the kiss, her hands fisting his shirt. It was her first real kiss, and it ignited something wild inside her. She kissed back tentatively, then hungrily, tasting the whiskey on his breath. Fred groaned, pressing his body against hers, his hard cock straining against his pants and poking her belly.

He broke the kiss, breathing heavy. "God, you're sweet. I need to feel you." His hands slid down, gripping her ass through her skirt, squeezing the soft flesh. Clara whimpered, her pussy clenching with unfamiliar ache. She'd touched herself thinking of him, but this was real—his fingers kneading her cheeks, pulling her tighter against his bulge.

"Fred, we shouldn't," she whispered, even as her nipples hardened under her blouse, poking through the lace bra.

"Bullshit," he growled, nipping her earlobe. "You've felt it too. The way you look at me in meetings, legs crossed like you're hiding how wet you get." He hiked her skirt up, exposing her thighs, his palm sliding between them to cup her panty-covered mound. She was soaked, the cotton damp.

Clara moaned, hips bucking instinctively. "I... yes, I've wanted you. So bad."

Fred's fingers pushed the fabric aside, stroking her slick folds. "So fucking wet for me. This virgin pussy is mine tonight." He circled her clit, making her knees buckle. She clung to him, panting as pleasure shot through her core.

He dropped to his knees, yanking her panties down her legs. "Spread for me, Clara." Shy but obedient, she parted her thighs, exposing her bare pussy—pink, glistening, untouched. Fred's breath ghosted over it, then his tongue licked a long stripe up her slit, tasting her sweetness.

"Oh God!" Clara cried, fingers tangling in his hair. His mouth devoured her, tongue thrusting into her tight hole, lapping at her juices. He sucked her clit hard, fingers pinching her ass as she trembled. Waves of heat built, her body coiling tight.

"Come on my tongue," he ordered, voice muffled against her. Two fingers pushed inside her, stretching her virgin walls. She was so tight, clenching around him as he pumped, curling to hit that spot that made stars burst behind her eyes.

Clara shattered, her first orgasm ripping through her. "Fred! Fuck, yes!" Juices flooded his mouth, and he drank her down, groaning with satisfaction.

Standing, he wiped his chin, eyes feral. "Now, taste me." He unzipped his pants, freeing his thick cock…veined, throbbing, pre-cum beading at the tip. It was huge, making Clara's eyes widen in shy awe.

"Touch it," he said, guiding her hand. Her fingers wrapped around the hot shaft, stroking tentatively. Fred hissed, thrusting into her grip. "Suck it, baby. Wrap those lips around your boss's cock."

Kneeling now, Clara leaned in, her tongue flicking the head, tasting salt. She took him in, lips stretching around his girth, bobbing slowly. Fred's hands guided her, fucking her mouth gently at first, then deeper. "That's it, take it all. Such a good little secretary, choking on my dick."

Gagging slightly, she hollowed her cheeks, sucking harder, her pussy throbbing again from the filth of it. Fred pulled out with a pop, hauling her up. "Can't wait anymore. Need to fuck you."

He spun her around, bending her over the handrail. Her skirt bunched at her waist, ass out. Fred rubbed his cock along her slit, coating it in her wetness. "Gonna break you in, Clara. Fill this tight virgin cunt."

"Please," she begged, pushing back. "Fuck me, Fred. I need it."

He thrust in, inch by inch, her walls gripping him like a vice. Clara screamed in pleasure-pain, tears pricking her eyes as he bottomed out, his balls slapping her clit. "So fucking tight. You’re indeed, Mine."

Fred pounded her relentlessly, hands bruising her hips. The elevator rocked with each slam, his cock stretching her, hitting deep. "Take it, you shy little slut. Boss's cock owning your pussy."

Clara moaned, lost in the heat, her breasts bouncing free from her unbuttoned blouse. He reached around, pinching her nipples, twisting them as he rutted harder. Sweat slicked their skin, the air thick with the slap of flesh and her cries.

"Harder!" she demanded, surprising herself. The shyness melted into raw hunger.

Fred obliged, one hand fisting her hair, arching her back. "Gonna cum inside you. Breed this virgin hole for Christmas."

The thought pushed her over, her pussy spasming around him. "Yes! Fill me!" Orgasm crashed again, milking his cock.

With a roar, Fred buried deep, hot cum spurting into her, flooding her womb. He kept thrusting, prolonging it, until they both slumped, panting.

As the elevator lights flickered back on, doors opening to the lobby, Fred pulled out, cum dripping down her thighs. He kissed her softly. "Best Christmas gift ever, Clara."

She smiled, shy again but sated. "Merry Christmas, Fred."