Archive of Our Own

Alya took in a deep, sharp breath as the sliding glass doors opened before her and she took her first step into her newest job - though she was far from nervous. She strode into the building since rebranded Agreste Co. with her bag on her hip and a comfortable confidence along her lips. This would be her first proper job in quite some time, should this first day go well. Alya had a hunch it would, however, given that she was friends with the boss.

Her mind reflected as she roamed the wide, lavish halls in search of her destination. On how she’d struggled to pin down anything beyond what meager allowance her faintly monetized superhero-focused blog afforded her. Alya had talent and skill in equal measure, just not the sort that many in Paris seemed to have been looking for as of late. The Ladyblog alongside her boyfriend’s infrequent gigs as a DJ for various events kept the two of them afloat, but she’d always longed for at least a little more.

She’d applied to just about any position she felt she could properly fill, in the months before this day. Some were of the simpler, more modest sort - an overnight stocker, a cashier, or a delivery girl. Other roles were more of the sort she’d once hoped for, like working at the news station. But that was an unpaid internship, while the other places ranged from payments too low to outright not calling her back.

So for a time, Alya was stumped when it came to employment. She’d known job searching would be a pain, not that she’d near outright run out of options. There was the odd online job, picture submissions and other sort of work which she did consider. Surely, there were plenty in Paris that’d pay to see her in a different kind of light. Alya stayed her hand on those, however, in the hopes of something more certain.

That came, finally, just around a week ago now, while she was sharing a drink with her best friend. Marinette, conversely, had found success for herself in the field of her choice. An up and coming fashion designer, she easily slipped into a role with the restructuring Agreste Co. well before the head of the company was set in place. Once he had been, however, and Alya slipped into an inadvertent mention of her struggles, Marinette couldn’t help but make her an offer that she couldn’t quite refuse.

Adrien Agreste, after a good few years of paperwork, had finally been placed in charge of the brand his long deceased father had made into an empire. The change in name was his first order of business, Marinette had told her, while finding an assistant was his second. After being told his previous assistant, Ms. Sancoeur, was on leave for some indefinite time, Alya wondered that night why Marinette wasn’t filling that role herself, the two of them having been together since they were in high school.

But Marinette insisted that such a role wasn’t quite for her, she’d been happily employed well before Adrien found himself at the head of the company. When Alya similarly implied that she wasn’t much an assistant, Marinette sat her drink down and leaned closer to her best friend. Alya learned more about Adrien Agreste that night than she’d ever known about him, and a few new things about her best friend, too.

Then, the morning after, she had a job offer waiting via text message from Adrien himself. He detailed the terms of his position more clearly than Marinette had, the words of a sort she’d been shocked to read beneath the professional headshot she’d long since had as Adrien’s icon in her phone. But, as rosy as her cheeks became, Alya found the opportunity too good to pass up. Something she was both good at, would have fun with, and be well compensated for. 

Now she stood on the glass elevator, one of the recent additions to the building, on her way up to greet her new boss. Maybe she hadn’t quite told her boyfriend, Nino, the details of her new jobs, just that their shared struggles might see an upturn sooner rather than later. And maybe she hadn’t quite processed what it all meant until now, her reflection staring back at her. She was clad in a typically tight flannel shirt, buttons latched and faintly strained around her bust, and the shoes she’d worn for years. 

More uncharacteristically, though, was her skirt. It rode short down her legs, but covered enough not to distract those in the offices she’d just waded through. She figured that if any of her fellow employees had noticed her attire, there’d be far more than just a few turned heads. Though that was more because of what she wasn’t wearing, as per her new dress code. She’d taken it in a better stride than she’d expected at first, being technically half-naked in public, but now she was alone with her thoughts.

Alya did find some shame in the elevator, though less in regards to what her position was said to be and more so that she hadn’t been honest with her boyfriend. Explaining just what she was doing for money just felt too difficult a conversation to have, at least before she’d worked a single day at her new job. It didn’t help that it was explicitly said by both Adrien and Marinette that Nino wasn’t to know, that it would be better that way. This was a small price to pay for happiness and stability.

Yet, as the elevator stopped at the top floor of the Agreste Co. building, the feeling faded. She wasn’t just doing what she felt she had to do, she was doing what was the best for the both of them - for herself, certainly. And maybe it was a little exciting to her, that she’d be playing the role of assistant to a former model turned CEO. Alya had told herself that wasn’t that big a factor in why she’d taken the position, but that bit of wish fulfillment might have been stronger than she let on.

Alone, her heels tapped against the floor that shined beneath her while she approached the oversized office at the end of the hall. The rest of the room vacant save an expansive office which she’d been told was his, Alya couldn’t help but scoff at the sight. Adrien lived a life of luxury for most of his life, certainly, but she never knew him to need that much space. She was impressed all the same, though, as she reached for the glass door with blinds that hid the inside from the out.

She stopped herself just short and paused where she stood. Without much thought, Alya had reached for the doorknob. For a brief moment she wondered if that was the right approach, if casually letting herself into Adrien’s place of work would be acceptable. They knew each other well enough but in the terms of their arrangement, Adrien had promised he’d not take things easy on her simply because of who she was. Alya’s eyes narrowed on the memory, a slight smirk in the corner of her lips as she twisted the door handle and let herself in anyway.

Inside, the office space was warm and bright with late morning sunlight pouring in through the windows. The floor glistened further, while the walls were adorned in a mixture of intricate design and a plethora of memorabilia. Pictures of him with Marinette, of the yet in operation Kitty Section, more than a few shots of Ladybug and even a handful of frames that held images of herself - alongside her boyfriend and the rest of their friends, of course. 

“Ah,” Adrien’s gentle voice stopped her from reminiscing for too long. “You must be my new assistant.” 

It drew her attention to him, a smile along her lips. He sat in his surely expensive chair behind an expensive, mahogany desk that was littered with a range of content. Paperwork, photos, sheets of designs. She spied a sticky note that hung from the computer monitor that sat to one side, itself clad in Marinette’s handwriting. She wasn’t yet close enough to discern what it said, so she simply admired Adrien in his tightly fitted suit instead.

“I don’t know,” Alya softly chuckled, her arms folded. “Might have taken a wrong turn somewhere. This building is pretty big, y’know.”

“Oh, no, from the way you’re dressed?” Adrien beckoned her towards the desk, a grin on his face. “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, Ms. Césaire.”

The title, as apt as it was, felt briefly strange in her ears. It wasn’t that her and Nino had gotten married or anything of the sort, though they had certainly talked about it. She’d grown quite confident that he might propose any day now, in fact. What made her ears prick up, though, was quite simply who it came from and how he’d said it. The smooth, almost cocky tone in which Adrien had said her name. There was a slight tingle to her spine for a scant few seconds, but she ignored it as she stood on the opposite side of his desk.

“Right, well,” Alya hummed, her hand along the side of her neck. “Do I have to pretend I don’t know why I’m here?”

“If you’d like.” Adrien chuckled as he nudged his seat slightly back from his desk and leaned back against the faux leather. 

“And if I don’t feel like…” Alya raised her leg and draped it along his desk, her skirt lifted just enough that he could see her adherence to the dress code. “Playing such games, sir? ”

“Then we don’t have to.” Adrien unzipped his jeans with a grin, unabashed in how he stared at her naked crotch. “I’m not that demanding of a boss, Ms. Césaire.”

There it was again, that odd tingle along her spine and a title so casual yet professional. It made her breath just that slight bit heavier as it leaked from between her lips. Alya believed that she had come prepared to play up her new role, ready to do just about anything - as per the terms she’d agreed to. She, much like surely any other Parisian, had once spent countless nights with just such a fantasy as this keeping her up late, after all.

Yet, there was something about the actualization of it all that got to her. About the way Adrien held himself, every bit as kind and welcoming as he’d been with a smile that had hardly flinched and eyes just as soft. It ran counter to what she’d been told and what she’d read about him from her best friend, to the job she’d agreed to do. Knowing what awaited her, what he held behind that smile, it did seem to seep through whatever confidence Alya had steeled for herself.

Alya refused to let it fluster her any further and gently shook her head to rid the sensation from her mind, at least for now. She reaffirmed her own sharp smirk and quietly giggled as she climbed more properly onto her boss’ desk, then shifted herself along the cool wooden surface. It chilled her flesh as the skirt made way, a slight shiver saw her tense as she came to dangle her legs over the opposite side, her shoes effortlessly kicked off in the process. 

“Do I really look the part,” She playfully asked, a hand pulling her skirt further upward until her crotch was left bare. “Sir?”

“Yes, but…” Adrien brought his chair closer, then peered up at her with a chuckle in his throat. “I can make sure, if you’d like.”

Alya nodded, a breath made still in her throat as Adrien reached forward without so much as a hint of hesitation. His hands first palmed at her thighs, fingers curious in how they touched upon flesh that had for so long been foreign to him. He squeezed gently first, then slid his touch further upward. Never once did his sharp green eyes wander from her own, intent and focused even as his thumbs eased into her thick, unkempt bush.

She finally exhaled and let her upper lip catch between her teeth, her eyes nearly shut on instinct. Alya held them open, however, in search of something to properly ground her. She found it in the note that hung off Adrien’s monitor, itself closer and now more legible. While Adrien ran his fingertips along her bare pussy, as he groped at her and toyed with her inner thighs, Alya squinted towards the note and felt herself grow warmer as she read.

It said, simply,
Have fun with your new toy, kitty.

And Alya tensed. She felt her fingers clench at the flat surface of the desk and her thighs ache. How supportive her best friend was of this, how her longtime boyfriend now so openly toyed with her crotch. Alya thought, perhaps, that this job would be easy enough. That she may bat her eyes and bring her would-be boss to his knees. Yet, the weight of the situation bore down on her, just as Adrien so thoroughly played with her pussy. He gently splayed at her flesh, thumbed down her slit and, finally, leaned his head between her legs and placed a kiss against her pussy.

“You certainly look the part to me.” Adrien purred, his hands placed along her thighs with a subtle glisten to his fingertips. “Just as I'd hoped, Ms. Césaire.”

“Adrien -” Alya broke from the character she’d practiced all night, unable to help herself as her voice rasped and was just as swiftly silenced. 

For Adrien sat up in his seat and curled his arms around her frame. He pulled her forward and smeared his lips to her own, almost territorial in how he kissed her. Alya’s eyes widened behind her glasses first, then grew softer and unfocused as she found his tongue pressed into her mouth. Without thought, she’d come to kiss him right back. Loudly, enough so that she came to understand why his office was so far removed from those under his employ, and with a thin line of drool which leaked from the corner of her lips when he pried himself back.

Alya sat on his desk then, leaned back onto her palms and dazed from the moment. She swallowed his taste, itself almost sweet in her throat, and did what she could to catch the breath she’d slowly lost control of. Her head rolled and the smile along her lips loosened even as it widened, with a giggle growing from within her throat. This helped her, ultimately, to better acquaint herself to her new role, enough so that she soon stared down at Adrien with a flutter to her eyes.

“Well, Alya?” Adrien shoved his seat back and flicked at the clasp of his belt, a noticeable bulge in his undone pants. “Are you going to get to work?”

Alya rolled her lower lip between her teeth and watched as Adrien further loosened his pants, as he nudged them down enough that his cock sprang free. Well shaven and just as impressive as certain magazine covers made him look, Alya felt her heart rate jump. This was no playful talk between girls, some hypothetical position that might help her and her own beloved from a bind. Alya slipped from the desk and onto her knees as if in a trance, and stared eagerly at the reality that hung in front of her face.

“Yeah,” Adrien purred, his fingers laced by strands of her brown hair until his palm pressed down at the back of her head. “Good girl. ”

The praise, however playful it was, slipped from Adrien’s tongue and only furthered the pace of her heartbeat. It grew quickly clear that whatever expectations Alya was coming into this with were far from the mark. How Adrien stared at her, so calm and composed, the sultry purr behind his words. This was another side of him, one she’d never even imagined before this morning. Her eyes drifted slowly forward, her cheeks hot as she faced down the actuality she’d so confidently agreed to.

Adrien’s cock hung proudly ahead of her, now fully hard and glistening with faint anticipation. Smooth around and with a thin patch of blonde at the base, it certainly looked as many around her had hoped. Bigger than the bulges in some of his more risque modeling pictures indicated yet not ridiculously oversized, as some online posters had theorized in her time, Alya felt that it more than lived up to even the wilder fantasies she’d long since heard. And it was hung there just some few inches from her face, subtly throbbing in front of her.

Alya seemed to suddenly realize her position at the sight, just how close she’d gotten to Adrien Agreste; her boyfriend’s best friend, her own best friend’s boyfriend. It finally seemed to hit her, just what she’d signed up for. That she’d been encouraged into this by both Adrien himself and her best friend. They wanted her here, on her knees, as some so-called assistant. It should have given her pause, if only for the fact that Nino had no idea where she currently was.

But, to her slight shame, it didn’t. Alya only found herself further excited the longer she stared at Adrien’s cock, as she eased her fingers around his shaft with just a nod from her new boss urging her on. Her breath was hot against his flesh as she noticed herself all but panting from between his legs, her eyes wide and glasses slipped down the bridge of her nose while she made herself familiar with his flesh.

She stroked him gradually, with a timid embrace that only grew more firm once her fingers neared the tip of his length. Alya added her second hand, her breath faintly visible thanks to the chill that waited for her beneath his desk. With both tender around Adrien’s cock, fingers laced between themselves, Alya masturbated on Adrien’s cock with an unintended yet unrepentant glee. So many had spoken of something like this, of their dreams of just such a situation and now, with a growing smirk in the corner of her parted lips, Alya was living it.

Adrien reclined back into his expensive chair with the sound of faux leather stretching and shifting beneath his weight. He warmly exhaled in relief, still staring as Alya played with him. His face held a grin that only grew when she slipped one hand down to grope and squeeze at his impressive balls. She shifted further forward on her knees and spared a thought for letting her hand go lower, down along her own body.

But first impressions, Alya knew, were everything. She kept her hands on her boss, massaging at his seemingly pent up balls while her thumb rolled over the precum soaked tip of his cock. The act grew audible as Alya more thoroughly stroked him from head to base, made to subtly echo thanks to the wood of the desk around her. Her eyes fluttered again, then rolled until they were met by his ever sharp gaze.

“Do it,” Adrien told her, as calm and confident as he could be. “Do what I’m paying you for, Alya.”

He seemed to read her mind, or perhaps she simply wanted to do as he told. It was the most submissive Alya had felt in maybe her entire life. She swallowed a harsh, dry breath and nodded to her boss. The smirk on her face took hold and grew, pointed in either direction as she shifted herself forward. Adrien let himself slump further back into his seat, grinning with delight as Alya’s jaw slacked and her lips wrapped slowly around his cock.

That, at least, was something she’d ample practice with. Her eyes rolled shut as she let her tongue run down along the underside of his cock, her palms pressed to his either thigh. This way, Alya believed, she could ignore whatever odd feelings that had stirred within her. That she may yet ignore just what she was doing and simply reap the benefits that came with sucking her new boss’ cock. And as she worked him steadily into her mouth, she thought it might just work.

When she peeked from behind her eyelids, however, she found that it wouldn’t. Adrien sat there, his warm and almost smug gaze waiting for her. Her mind flashed with more innocuous memories of him, of the often short time they’d spent around one another. Alya was a typical Parisian and, as such, had spent many a long night with her thoughts wandering to fantasies just like this reality she’d found for herself.

But those were far flung dreams, desires of one pent up and perhaps at times unsatisfied in her own intimate life. This was here and now, his taste slightly salty on her tongue yet oddly sweet to her senses otherwise. That same boy she’d helped her best friend land, that her own boyfriend had total trust in, now sat with her lips around his cock. The head of Adrien’s length prodded at the edges of her throat, with Alya made to flinch as it throbbed and precum pressed to her flesh.

Again she shut her eyes, more harshly and intently than before. For this to work, she’d need to ignore the boy she knew - or at least, the one she’d thought herself familiar with. Given how he carried himself, how nonchalant this all had been to this point and how he’d barely flinched with another woman’s mouth around his cock, it dawned on Alya that she might not have truly known Adrien Agreste at all. That maybe, with the years, he’d changed.

She’d have to change too, and fast, because deep down she wanted this to work. And maybe not simply for the money, though that thought was one she’d place a pin in and never return to. This wasn’t the warm and kindly Adrien she’d long since known, though he wore that same face all the same. There was more behind his eyes, and Alya repeatedly told herself as much while she held largely still on her knees before him.

“You alright?” Adrien asked, a chuckle beneath his words.

“Mh-” Alya pulled her head back and looked up at him, flushed and faintly reddened. “Yeah, it’s just, well…”

Her thought to explain her feelings on the matter wavered as soon as her mouth started moving. There just didn’t seem to be a good way of telling him that, for as playful as she’d been about this situation to this moment, it certainly felt odd sucking off her boyfriend’s best friend. A boy she’d grown to slowly but steadily know through the years as a goodhearted, caring person who so proudly pulled his cock out for her to service. Placing that sort of clash into words proved impossible for her, in the moment.

“If you’re not up to this, Alya,” Adrien disrupted her attempt at concentration with firmer words than she might have expected despite the smile he wore. “I have plenty of other options.”

The remark made her eyes widen. How he spoke so casually of the matter, as if there were bodies lined up at the doors of what had become his business waiting to please him. Like he and Marinette were doing Alya a personal favor by letting her suck his dick. Alya felt her body lighten and another, more intense tingle along her spine. This wasn’t the Adrien Agreste she’d known, but maybe she’d never really known him in the first place.

And that, strangely, only seemed to excite her further.

“Yes, I…” Alya tilted her head forward again, her eyes focused on his subtly glistening cock. “I understand, sir.”

“Good.” Adrien grinned, his palm pressed more heavily to the back of her head. “Now start sucking.”

Alya swallowed again, and stared back at him with a more stern expression on her face. Her brows sharpened and she gave a nod, slight and accepting of what she’d been told. They had more of an understanding now, she felt. While she’d known and agreed to the terms of this position as they laid out to her some few days ago now, her struggle had come from being faced with an Adrien she didn’t quite know. That, Alya now realized, didn’t matter.

She’d be paid and compensated in other, more fulfilling ways. That allure of the unknown only brought her lips back around his cock, her gaze softening as she laced them over the head of his length. Alya savored the taste, itself now far more sharp and salty to her senses. And as she sank her mouth further down along his subtly throbbing shaft, she unflinchingly stared back up at him with a gaze more intense and focused than before.

Her preconceived notions cast aside, Alya held a groan in her throat as her lips eased down towards the base of Adrien’s cock. Getting his length down her throat felt so simple, so easy. As if it belonged there. Alya’s eyes rolled and her lips pressed both to the thin patch of blonde hair that made up his bush and the curve of his balls. She’d had her fair share of experience at this, yes, but something about how easily she’d worked him down felt almost natural.

She didn’t dwell on the thought and instead pulled her head slowly upward, then let it press back towards Adrien’s lap. Alya’s mouth was steady and consistent despite the slower pace she took in her effort to grow more familiar with the man she’d thought she’d known. Her palms splayed out along his thighs, themselves a mix of flesh and the fabric of the pants he’d only halfway pulled down his legs. It was enough for her to find a stable hold, all the same.

For she wouldn’t hold herself back too long. All uncertainties and shock either compartmentalized or tossed aside, Alya felt it necessary to prove herself, now. As if Adrien would view her hesitation and surprise as doubt and do just as he’d said. For whatever reason, she didn’t want that. For him to go off and find another mouth, another throat to use for his pleasure. Being that for him, this man of authority that felt so far from the boy she’d known, urged her onward. 

Faster, more aggressively, Alya bobbed her head at Adrien’s lap. She steadily ramped up the pace of her attention with moans leaking from between her heavily occupied lips all the while. Flesh clashed with flesh as she sucked him down, her eyes finally wavering from his own as she tilted her head further downward for further comfort. The chair he sat in creaked and strained, the wheels even shifted slightly back along the hardwood floor from just how intense she’d become.

Alya knew she was doing well, however, thanks to how firm Adrien’s hand had grown against the back of her head. His fingers laced through her hair and tugged gently at the strands, the smirk along his face having only grown. She caught the odd glimpse of his approval, his expression far more smug now. He clearly relished in his position over her, in the effortless control he found with her.

As overwhelmed as she felt, Alya gave everything she had to her new boss. Loudly, sloppily, she sucked on Adrien’s cock with smears of her carefully applied lipstick left both at the base and along his shaft. Drool softly trickled down along his inner thighs, her glasses further skewed on her face and the moans she couldn’t fight anymore only became louder. Her chest felt weightless, her throat tight around his length. She thought herself in a position of power of her own, for a brief few moments.

But Adrien surprised her again, as he laced his opposite hand through her hair and thrust his hips up from his chair. Roughly, without warning or remorse, he bucked at her lips and pounded his shaft at her throat. Whatever movement she’d taken faded and her body gradually turned more limp as she sat on her knees. Alya’s eyes widened and her face grew stained in a dark shade of red, but she didn’t fight it. She showed no resistance, and did simply as she was told. 

“Ngh,” Adrien’s voice repeated, more clear now as the blood pulsing in her ears settled. “Take it, slut.”

The words sent a chill along her spine, hearing them in that still sweet if somewhat strained voice of his. But she didn’t let them give her pause this time, she didn’t try to shift free from him or mutter one of the agreed upon safe words. While Adrien held her down with both hands to her head and churned his hips at her face, loudly enough that if anyone else had been on the floor they surely would have heard it, she sat on her knees with her expression blank and took it.

Alya took it, because it was her job.

This was what she’d signed up for, she knew this was coming. Her best friend and the man himself had told her, in prettier words, just what would happen. That she’d be used and taken at his pleasure, with her own a far flung thought. Alya felt dizzy after so many smacks of Adrien’s balls to her chin, her thoughts scrambled and messy. She thought about the night they first discussed this, about the messages she’d shared with him leading to this day. She thought about her boyfriend, who had no idea his best friend was fucking her throat right now.

And Alya moaned. Loudly, freely, she let loose a guttural moan of pure desire. Strength returned to her body as she angled herself slightly, her fingers dug into his thighs and her head made again to bob down at his lap. She did what she could to meet his desires, to clash her lips to the base of his cock on each harsh thrust of his hips. Adrien grunted and muttered things that fell incoherent on her ears, her mind overwhelmed as her throat was so eagerly used by her new boss.

Her eyes rolled shut again as her throat was outright ravished, her muffled voice turned to subtle gags and prolonged groans as Adrien used her as he saw fit. She felt overwhelmed and yet desperate for more all the same. More of this savagery, the sort she certainly never got at home. Alya sat obediently, her knees ground into the hardwood floor as her face was roughly fucked by her best friend’s boyfriend. And despite just how overwhelmed her mouth was, she managed a grin all the same.

With her better thoughts and the majority of her senses suppressed, Alya found an immediate sort of joy in this. In letting herself go, letting herself be used. That she was on the clock and getting paid for her time like this only made Adrien’s fat, throbbing cock taste sweeter as he humped at her throat. She might have sworn it bulged at times, too, though she wasn’t sure if that was reality or a fleeting fantasy that grazed her addled mind.

She sucked and swallowed around his cock, just as desperate for it as she was the air she managed to pull into her lungs. Her face burned and her eyes rolled open, unfocused and blank in expression. All she could see through her blurred vision was that of Adrien’s waist thrusting at her face, again and again. The material of his chair strained and his balls seemed to further tense at each tap of her chin. 

Alya found herself not just expecting the inevitable, but eager for it. So quickly she’d found the boy she knew was far from innocent, and now she longed to see just what more he could do. His cock throbbed and ached in her throat as the churning of his hips slowed, and her anticipation only grew. She’d taste Adrien Agreste’s cum soon without the knowledge of her boyfriend, and she’d be paid handsomely for it. Alya moaned when she thought it was coming, her body as relaxed as she could make it in the name of pleasuring her new boss.

Then, suddenly, her eyes shot open. Adrien went still, too, and both remained frozen for a brief moment. They’d stopped as they were because of a ringing that came from atop his desk, a loud buzz of the phone having stolen the moment from them. He pulled himself from Alya’s lips slowly and with obvious reluctance. For all of a brief second, Alya wondered if she’d simply take his pleasure to the face and softly whined when it never came. Instead, she heard the click of the phone.

“Hello?” Adrien asked the other end of the line, his voice shockingly normal for what he’d just been doing.

Alya wiped her lips and faintly heard another voice talking back to him. She didn’t try to actively listen in but still made out a few lines here and there while she composed herself beneath the desk and fixed her glasses to her face. The voice sounded huffy and arrogant, familiar in some ways. Another CEO, certainly, but one clearly more familiar with Adrien given the way she talked to him. Alya wondered for a moment, slumped back on her knees while her breath caught up with her.

“Ah, yes, of course. Apologies, Mrs. Bourgeois.” Adrien replied to some high pitched rambling, his opposite hand yet draped along the back of Alya’s head. “I just got caught up in…other matters.”

Alya softly chuckled at that. Part of her seemed to enjoy being such other matters, and she didn’t have it in her to argue with it. She felt him stroke along her hair while his talking turned to rambling she didn’t pay attention to. Her focus remained forward, as always, with her eyes sharpened as she stared at his crotch. Adrien’s cock hung proudly in front of her, glistening in her drool and precum she’d yet to steal from him. 

“No, I hadn’t forgotten the Style Queen call,” Adrien said as his seat shifted back. “Just another few minutes, yes?”

He looked beneath his desk with that grin still pointed along his lips. Adrien wagged a finger that beckoned Alya forward, and without a thought she obeyed. Free from the somewhat tight space, Alya raised a brow when he tried to further instruct her without words. Adrien pointed and motioned for a time, but she didn’t quite seem to understand him. Not until he leaned back in his chair and played with the buttons of his own shirt.

Alya perked up with the realization and gave her new boss a nod. While he continued to talk - or rather, get berated by who surely had to be Audrey Bourgeois, she slowly pulled at the buttons of her flannel shirt. They fell one by one and Adrien stared at her all the while, his lower lip rolled between his teeth when the final button came undone and Alya was left with her shirt open. The fabric slipped along her sides almost immediately, and Alya was free to flaunt her adherence to the dress code.

“Of course,” Adrien replied to the call while he reached a hand forward. “You’ll have my full attention.”

The blush on Alya’s face darkened as Adrien groped her, firmly and thoroughly. He squeezed at one of her breasts, then simply reached over and grabbed at the other. His chair slid forward to get him closer to her body as the call dragged on, much to his restrained yet noticeable annoyance. Alya reveled in that thought, that the boss would rather shirk his responsibilities and use her just as she’d signed up to be used.

She grasped gently at his wrist and guided his attention between her breasts, then to either nipple. He pinched and tugged at the stiffened flesh until his assistant softly moaned, the noise trapped behind her sharply clenched jaw. Alya resolved not to endanger her boss at this moment and to instead bask in her newfound place on her knees before him. She smirked as she leaned into his touch, then gradually pushed herself past it.

Adrien watched with a brow slightly raised as she seemed to disobey him, a subtle chuckle in his throat as he watched her shift closer to him. Alya inhaled sharply once she’d adjust her position by first getting herself up onto one foot while her knee ground into the hardwood floor. It wasn’t the most comfortable she’d been, but she was able to ignore it. Instead she kept her mind focused on him, on that which she’d never been allowed to have.

And slowly, Alya reached along her chest and pried either breast from the other. As Adrien continued with his call, she leaned herself forward until her elbows were pressed into the faux leather of his seat. He perked up and his cock throbbed against the heated flesh that graced his aching length, a swallowed moan yet faintly audible as Alya pushed her breasts tightly against one another with his cock trapped firmly between them. 

He stroked at the top of her head again, a sign of silent appreciation as the conversation on the phone continued. Alya took that praise in stride, confident and eager as she started to subtly rock her chest at his lap. Slowly and steadily, she did what she had never done for Nino or anyone else in her life for that matter. She used the chest so many had surely lusted over on Adrien Agreste’s cock, a smirk on her lips that grew wider each time the glistening tip poked from between her breasts.

Adrien’s eyes rolled and his voice huffed, just faintly enough that it wouldn’t be picked up by the other end of the line. For a time he remained professional as he could be, taking the audible lashing of Audrey Bourgeois as if he hadn’t had his best friend’s longtime girlfriend kneeling in front of him, his cock smothered between her tits. Alya felt impressed at just how little he flinched as her chest gradually worked over his length, then gasped as she felt his hand press harshly to the back of her head again.

Without so much as an indication, Adrien thrust himself at Alya’s tits and forced her head down just enough that her lips pressed to the leaking head of his cock. Again and again, each churn of his hips more rough and thorough than the last, Adrien surrendered to his own needs. He clenched his jaw and fell to one word answers that only came when necessary, his face flushed in crimson as he bucked his waist and desperately fucked Alya’s tits.

And Alya, as overjoyed as she was overwhelmed, only groaned. She swallowed the noise, herself, but still let loose a series of muttered moans that she was sure only her boss would hear. The sounds of another man’s girl, giving herself over to her job. Alya grew warped by the debauchery of it all, breathless as she drooled and kissed at what she could taste of Adrien’s cock while it throbbed between her sizeable tits.

“I, nh, I know, Mrs. Bourgeois.” He replied to his call with a harsh crack of his thighs to the underside of Alya’s breasts. “Just…Feel free to patch us over whenever.”

There were some few more lines said between the two that Alya certainly couldn’t hear, and then the line was clicked. Without a word to her, Adrien reached his now free hand down and slipped his palms along the outer sides of her breasts. He tightly squeezed at her flesh and harshly thrust his cock between them, grunting and loudly moaning. As if he were letting out a built up pressure that had grown during the call.

Alya loved it. The rough savagery that he showed her. At one moment he was pinching at her nipples, then the next he was groping her chest again. She felt the heat of his precum run and cool between her breasts just as the drool that had leaked from her mouth. All the while, she’d continued to kiss at the head of his length. At her best friend’s boyfriend’s cock. That thought echoed in her mind, though the word that would describe what she was doing made her shiver.

“Ngh, fucking whore,” Adrien groaned, a palm shifted back to the top of her head. “Make me cum before they call back.”

“Yes,” Alya frantically, breathlessly replied. “Yes, sir!”

There wasn’t another answer, it wasn’t a question. Adrien demanded this of her, and Alya obeyed. On one knee, her tits made a mess of, with some faint stains having been made in the bottom edges of her shirt. Alya took hold of herself and firmly smothered his cock between her breasts, her back growing sore from just how heavily she moved herself to meet his desires. She might have thought herself having done a good job, given the praise and how Adrien leaned back in his chair and moaned.

But she quickly learned that for whatever good she’d done, Adrien was the sort of boy that needed more. She found herself nudged back with his fingers to her forehead and she leaned away as she believed herself instructed. Just as soon as she’d gotten any real measure of distance between herself and Adrien’s lap, she was pulled back in. First her hair was tugged, then her head was more properly brought forward again. Her jaw slacked on what felt like instinct, and she found her mouth filled again.

Adrien thrust deep at her throat, heavily and harshly. His swollen  balls clapped to her chin and her nose was pressed to that well maintained bush of his. He reared back slowly, then slammed himself forward again. Again and again he repeated this process, even as the phone started to ring again. Alya’s heart raced and her lungs felt as if they’d been emptied, her eyes wide while a line of drool leaked from the corner of her lips to his inner thigh.

Then, with one more rough churn of his hips, Adrien stopped.

He grew firm and frozen with his cock buried in Alya’s throat, and she heard the click of the phone again. Another button was pressed and she heard voices, a number of people who seemed to be interviewers. They asked questions, pressed on matters more related to his business and even pried briefly into his personal life. Some asked quite directly of his girlfriend, and hearing Marinette’s name with Adrien’s shaft stuffed into her mouth only made Alya ache.

“She’s doing fine,” Adrien cheerily answered, as if he hadn’t another woman’s throat around his cock. “In fact, she should be taking her lunch break right about now.”

“And you’re not joining her?” A nosy voice asked.

“Not today,” Adrien replied in as calm and professional manner as his voice could manage, and even laughed as he spoke. “I’m busy, after all.”

That earned further laughter from the call, and Alya’s eyes only widened. Not just because of the nonchalance he showed, but because his palm pressed more firmly to the back of his head. She listened as he fielded more questions and talked business with all sorts of news agencies, though her thoughts quickly grew suppressed. All that lingered was the reality ahead of her, that she was currently being used as little more than a cock-warmer by Adrien Agreste.

And, the sound trapped in her chest, Alya moaned.

Her body relaxed until she was back onto both knees, her eyes glazed over and her expression blank. Alya sat on her knees like the good girl she was with the boss’ cock buried to the balls in her throat, her palms gentle along his thighs and her breath warm on his lap. She breathed steadily through her nose while he throbbed and ached, his legs subtly flinching throughout the conference call. Alya wondered if she couldn’t simply stay like this forever, disregarded and used in the ways she may have long since craved.

That, however, wouldn’t last. Adrien softly thrust at her with what little space he had, still eager to lay a claim as deep as he could. She took it, dazed and exhausted, she simply took what he gave her and moaned gratitude he happily fucked back down her throat. Alya listened as he waded through the questions that showered upon him, though most of it had turned more to incoherent noise than anything else. The most she could hear was the pulsing of her blood in her ears and the smothered grunting that Adrien let out between questions.

The voices gradually thanked him for his time and attention, unaware that they never truly had either. And slowly the noise thinned out and faded, with Adrien as kind and warm to each as he’d ever been to anyone. Alya could hear it, however faintly, when the line finally clicked again and the call ended. She didn’t process as much though, not until Adrien pulled her head upward and reared his hips back into his chair just to slam himself at her mouth again.

And finally, as Adrien grunted, Alya felt as if she’d done her job. She felt heat first as Adrien drained his cum down her throat. It overwhelmed her within moments and soon she gagged and coughed, with Adrien’s fingers gentle through her hair as he allowed her space to pull back from his lap. Her jaw remained slacked as she huffed down desperate breaths, watching from behind blurred eyes as Adrien shot a thick mess of cum onto her face. Whatever didn’t land in her mouth streaked her features, stained her glasses and even ran down her bare breasts.

Alya slumped back and let her back rest against the underside of his desk as he finished with a subtle hand along his length. He pumped himself with a seemingly deliberate aim nearer to her chest, that grin on his face having never flinched throughout the call he’d just taken. While Alya sat motionless, moaning under her breath, Adrien made a proper mess of her with a load so impressive she might have thought he truly was pent up.

But she’d learned now, just how different Adrien was from other guys - from her boyfriend, at least. That this was surely the usual amount for him, despite just how much he’d done to her and that she’d done for him. Alya gradually found her senses again while a trail of Adrien’s cum trickled from her lips, themselves licked clean with a slow roll of her tongue that saw her moan more loudly and intentionally once she swallowed more of his taste. 

She basked in it, in the filth that was hidden from the world just beneath his desk and behind those closed blinds. Alya wondered just how often this room had seen such use, if her best friend wasn’t a more frequent occupant of the CEO’s office than it might have seemed. Her thoughts trailed to the last assistant Adrien had, one that was only said to be on a vacation. She considered the need for such a thing coming about from just how rough the boss was, with a smile along her lips.

Alya sat in this fantasy turned reality for what felt both like eternity and far too short a time. Part of her wondered if she hadn’t slept in, the rest of her knew better. As her breathing stabilized and she found some measure of composure beneath the mask of crimson and cum she now wore, she audibly swallowed. It was a means of grounding herself, a method meant to urge her onto her feet so that she might better play her new role.

She wouldn’t get that chance, however. Just as she started to move from beneath Adrien’s desk, she felt his hand to her shoulder. He tugged at the fabric of her unbuttoned shirt until she was pulled out of hiding. Without thought she came to stand upright, briefly woozy on her feet as she held herself in front of him. In need of support while her body righted itself, she leaned back along the corner of his desk with the most playful smirk she could muster up for him.

“I-” Alya swallowed again, less dryly than before. “I take we’re…not done yet, sir? ”

She made the remark not just because of the expression Adrien wore, itself soft and playful as it was. Her words were spoken more because of what she found waiting for her after she’d been made to stand upright again after so long. Adrien reclined back in his seat, his legs spread with his pants and underwear having been shimmied downward enough during their tryst to leave him largely bare. His cock still hung proudly between his legs, coated in cum and spit and as hard as could be.

“Far from it, Ms. Césaire.” Adrien replied, his arms draped along the armrests of his chair. “But before we go any further, there’s something I need to know.”

This sent a shiver along Alya’s spine. He had to know most things about her, save a few of the more personal things. Even those, she felt, were more up in the air than she might have once thought. She had no idea what he and her best friend spent their nights discussing, after all, and she had always told Marinette just about everything there was to know about her - down to the more niche kinks and notable habits, though those conversations came about over drinks more than anything else.

“Does he know?” Adrien asked after just a moment’s pause.

Alya tensed. “What, ah, do you mean?”

It felt obvious, of course, but she couldn’t be so blunt about the topic now. She wouldn’t even entertain the matter if her boss hadn’t asked. Suddenly she felt more flustered again, timid and embarrassed. That shame she should have felt earlier seemed to course through her as she stood, half naked and coated in another man’s cum. There was only one person he could be talking about, and Alya tried to brace for the name as his lips moved again.

“Nino.” Adrien flatly replied. “Does Nino know you’re here?”

“He-” Alya stroked at the back of her neck, a fractured giggle between her messy lips. “He knows I got a new job, but-”

“That’s not what I asked.” Adrien interrupted her as he stood up from his seat. “Does Nino know that you’re here, with me? Does he know what you’re doing? ”

Alya felt butterflies in her stomach as she tilted her head back to stare into Adrien’s sharp green eyes. Her chest felt heavier, her breathing grew more audible. She reached back along his desk without thought and splayed her palms out along the mahogany for further support. It was more out of need than anything else, for if she didn’t have a hold on anything solid she might have fallen out in front of her new boss and she simply couldn’t have that. 

“No,” She answered, softly and ashamedly. “He…has no idea.”

Alya shut her eyes harshly, as if trying to suppress the truth of the matter. Her fingers balled into fists and she visibly struggled with the honesty she’d spoken. It was a harsh contrast to Adrien and Marinette, with Marinette having been the one to truly arrange this job for her in the first place. They were swingers, at best, and a couple that knew at least one side of the relationship needed more than one body could offer. Alya and Nino, however, were neither of those things. 

They had been purely monogamous through their lives for so long now and she’d thrown it away for some money. Even that wasn’t entirely true, and Alya faced that in her subconscious. She knew the money, as nice as it was, hadn’t been the only factor in her choice. She wasn’t nudged into this by Marinette, or blackmailed by her new boss. Alya came into this company to fill this depraved role for Adrien because she wanted to. She wanted to taste that which had so long been forbidden, to have that which her best friend long since had. To see just how much better a life could be, with Adrien Agreste in it.

Alya had braced herself, though even she didn’t know what for. Maybe Adrien was going to be mad at her, given that her boyfriend had just as long since been his best friend. He might reach into his desk and tear up the contract, thus fracturing her fantasy turned actualization. She might even be ousted from Paris entirely, made to leave with nothing more than shame in her chest over what she’d done and so willingly threw away. Maybe he’d yell, maybe he’d leave.

Instead, Adrien kissed her.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in. Before Alya could get her eyes fully open, his tongue had pried her lips apart and slipped into her mouth. He held her close, her naked, messy chest pressed up to his own. Stains of cum were shared with the fabric of his shirt, though he soon enough relaxed his grasp on her enough to unbutton his own attire. As soon as it was loosely flowing at his sides, he pulled her back in with more force.

Alya felt a mix of emotions that only further scrambled as Adrien’s lips grew sloppy against her own. She knew it was wrong to do this to her so-called beloved, that she should have been honest with him about the matter. He might have even supported her in this, given some of the late night pillow talks they’d shared over the years. But she didn’t, she couldn’t. It felt too wrong and Alya just needed to know. She needed to see if the offer was serious, to see that other side of Adrien that lurked beneath his sunny surface. 

And for as wrong as it felt, for as much as her chest stirred, Alya couldn’t deny just how good it felt all the same. She leaned into Adrien after a moment, sucked at his tongue and groped openly at his ass. His chuckle was faint yet audible, eyes half-lidded as he stared into her own. Not with passion or love, not of the sort she was used to anyway. He stared at her more as if she were a possession, something he’d been glad to claim. Adrien pulled his lips from hers slowly, a lick across the roof of her mouth leaving some drool behind as he parted from her.

“Good.” He said, his tone warm and tender. “Don’t tell him.”

“Wh-” Alya muttered without thought. “What?”

“He doesn’t need to know.” Adrien explained with a step closer, one that nudged her against the desk. 

“Hah, Adrien…” Alya glanced from him, shocked and yet ridiculously turned on at his behavior. “He’s my…he’s your…”

“I don’t care.” Adrien shook his head. “He doesn’t need to know about this, Alya. Not yet.”

“Yet?” Alya asked, the word beneath her breath. 

“He doesn’t need to know you’re here,” Adrien continued, his palm along her leg as he pulled her leg from the floor. “That you’re with me.”

Alya felt herself raised up until her ass was pressed to the surface of his desk. “Woah, sunshine, wait-”

“That you’re getting what you want,” Adrien more heatedly spoke as he tore the cheap skirt from her waist. “What you deserve.”

“And, ah…” Alya placed a palm to his bare chest. “What is that, Adrien? Do I deserve to be some…assistant?”

“You’re not.” Adrien told her, further backing her along his desk. 

“Then what am I?” Alya pressed, a slight grin on her face. “Right now, Adrien, what am I?”

“In this position?” Adrien ran his thumb along her lips. “You’re a glorified sex toy, Alya. Something for me to fuck when I’m bored.”

Alya’s eyes widened at how bluntly he’d put it. How bold he was to say such a thing to her, however truthful it was. And it was the truth, that’s exactly what she signed up to be. The term and title of assistant was a formality, a pretense that only made the situation more alluring. She knew that much long before she strutted herself into work today, and had long since accepted that role as her own. Hearing him say it, though, in his own voice, with ownership and confidence in his tone. Alya felt a tingle in her knees as she found herself made to lay along his desk.

“Then use me,” Alya said with a tug at his open shirt. “Make me do my job, Adrien.”

She knew what she was saying and just why she was saying it. Soaked in unrepentant lust and desire, she stared at Adrien’s hard, throbbing cock without shame or hesitation. Alya sat up enough to pull her shirt from her body completely and tossed it without regard across the office space. She leaned back on her elbows and splayed herself out for him, her now entirely naked body left bare for his enjoyment.

And Adrien stared at her, just as unabashedly as he’d been to this point. His hands roamed from her messy tits, down along her waist and finally to her thighs. He groped at his toy, squeezed her until she squeaked and tugged at her until she flinched. Adrien laced fingers around one of her ankles and pulled her closer, the leg made to stick out and rest along his chest while the other dangled over the edge of the desk.

“If I do this, you can’t just quit.” Adrien told her as he stroked at his cock, itself just inches from her pussy. “You will be my toy, Alya. No going back.”

It sounded exciting yet strange, almost like a threat. Maybe he’d blackmail her yet, though at this point that’d only tick another box of her interests. Alya breathed heavily all the same, aware of what he’d really meant. That if things went any further than they already had, if her boss did what she’d spent nights dreaming about long after she’d professed her love to Nino, there’d be no turning back. The shame would be too great to simply cut the strings of this relationship she’d walked into.

Not one of love or romance. She didn’t expect such things from Adrien, for those were reserved purely for her best friend. Alya would be the good friend she’d always tried to be, and take the more aggressive side of her love so that, perhaps, Marinette wouldn’t have to. That’s what she wanted, deep down and now dragged to the surface of her thoughts. To be a rich boy’s plaything, made to be marked and bruised by another man behind the supposed love of her life’s back. 

“Please-” Alya swallowed sharply, then huffed. “Fuck me, sir, please.”

“Again.” Adrien demanded, his arms around her leg. “I need to know you mean it.”

“I want to belong to you, Adrien,” Alya spoke despite the weight in her chest. “My body…should be yours.”

“Yes,” Adrien nodded, the tip of his cock pressed to her pussy. “More.”

“Make me a cheater, Adrien, please-” Alya raised her voice and stuck her chest out. “Make me your bitch! ”

Adrien’s eyes narrowed and his smirk sharpened along his lips. He merely gave her a nod, then reached into one of the drawers of his desk. From within, he pulled a tube of lubrication that he just as quickly unscrewed. She wasn’t sure how necessary it was - she wanted it as rough as she could get it, at this point - but she knew he’d maintain his attitude as a gentleman, despite their situation. She appreciated that about him, that no matter how angry he’d been in their past he’d always tried to be kind all the same.

But kindness wasn’t what she wanted now, as she embraced what she was. With the cool liquid massaged along her pussy and coated along his otherwise bare cock, Alya needed him to be what she’d only just discovered today. The rough, almost uncaring man she’d craved. Her breathing grew more intense and labored as she felt a pressure between her legs. With a slight strain of her neck, she sat up enough to watch as it finally happened.

With a quiet grunt and ample force, his fingers along her pussy as a means of splaying out her flesh, Adrien thrust himself into her. Slowly, at first, he worked himself into her. But the more of his cock that sank into her throbbing hot need, the more unrestrained he became. He grumbled, huffed and finally threw himself at Alya’s body with enough strength to finally bury himself inside of her. Totally and completely, she took Adrien Agreste’s cock inside of herself.

She felt so full, so perfect. Alya stared up at him and he looked just as she might have dreamed he would. His shirt draped along his sides, her leg along his chest and his lips against her ankle. Though he hadn’t hardly moved, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to. Just having every inch of his terribly perfect cock inside of her, with his balls pressed to her taint and her body naked for him to enjoy. This, she felt, was what she wanted, what she deserved. What she was made for.

“You’re mine, Alya.” Adrien lowly said, his voice soft against her flesh. “My toy.”

“Yes.” Alya squeaked for him.

“You can stay with him, I want you to.” Adrien continued, his fingers along her hip. “But you’re mine, whenever I want. As soon as I call, no matter what.”

“Yes!” Alya finally cried as she was pulled closer to him. “Ah, all yours, Adrien!”

Adrien smiled, warm and tender, as if nothing had happened and their conversation was far lighter in subject. Like she hadn’t just pledged her body to his whims, despite her own relationship status. Alya felt his cock throb as his hips reared slowly back, her eyes rolled at the sensation. Her fingers tensed against the wood of his desk and her nails dug in as if to cling to something stable, and it was then that she realized there were scratches in the mahogany. Faint, thin, but they were there. She was far from the only one he’d done this with, the only one who he’d claimed.

But Alya didn’t care.

All that mattered was him, her new boss and her best friend’s boyfriend. The man she cheated with, that she’d given herself to. Adrien pulled himself far enough back that just the tip of his cock was left inside of Alya’s pussy, itself desperately strained and clenched around what she could feel of him. Her body fought what felt like him pulling out, though she should have known better. He wouldn’t be so gentle now, for he truly had her.

Adrien slammed himself into her then, suddenly and without warning. Hard enough that the desk seemed to shake and her body jiggled. His hand moved up and groped possessively at her breast as he repeated the act again and again, seemingly rougher with each sway of his hips. Harshly, Adrien clapped his flesh up against Alya’s own with only a slight contortion to his expression. Alya, however, found herself far more impacted by the moment.

Her jaw slacked and the stained glasses on her face skewed again, made to shift further down her face with each heavy thrust of his waist at her own. She felt her leg drop from his chest just as he raised his knee up onto the desk. It gave him better support, it seemed, as his attention grew faster and more thorough as a result of his altered position. He pounded himself at her pussy and yet, for as tightly as either of his hands came to grab at her chest, never once did he look from her eyes.

Alya wasn’t sure what he was looking for, why he stared more at her eyes than anything else. She couldn’t make sense of it for now at least, that much was sure. But in her fleeting thoughts she wondered on the matter. If he was looking at her for some sign of regret, some show of remorse for what she’d said and done. Or if maybe he stared at her simply to watch as whatever guilt she might have felt was fucked out of her. Either way, his gaze felt heavy and sharp and only made her breathing more labored as she did her best to stare back at him.

And Adrien laid into her, as if to ensure that her senses were suppressed and muddled. He thrust at her with a continuous effort that only seemed to grow rougher by the moment, at least rougher than anything she was used to. She felt herself stretched around Adrien’s cock, felt herself strain to cling to him as he humped her ass into his desk. As she was taken by her new boss the only real thought Alya found herself left with was the hope for a bulge from the act, another fantasy she probably wasn’t ticking off today.

Whether that was even possible or not, Alya certainly felt as if it was happening. Her eyes rolled shut and her lips parted in a constant series of increasingly broken moans, he felt so big inside of her. Bigger than anything she’d ever taken, enough so that she wished she had practice. Adrien climbed onto the desk and over her with just a huff, itself animalistic in nature. She peeked from behind her eyelids just in time to see him straddling her, her legs hiked up along his hips as her arms lunged from the desk to wrap around his neck.

She pulled herself up and smeared her lips to Adrien’s own, pure instinct driving her to stuff her tongue into the mouth of another man. The kiss was loud, messy, and Adrien was all too happy to reciprocate while his hips churned harshly at her own. She listened as her body was smacked by his own, as he grunted and huffed down her throat. Her eyes narrowed again and shut after but a moment, her legs tight around his waist and her nails pressed into his back.

Adrien held nothing back, or at least that’s how it felt. He pounded her with his weight thrown into every thrust, enough so to cause her flesh to smack against the wood of his desk. The computer monitor shook and a few picture frames fell forward, the snap loud and yet not enough to break her from the trance she’d fallen under. The rhythm of Adrien’s body proved hypnotic, addictive. She always knew why so many Parisians lusted after him, but never before had she felt such fantasies as validated as she did now.

Alya’s toes curled and her body braced beneath his own. She felt every inch of his cock as it pulled out, then thrust back inside of her. Again and again he hammered her, without so much as a second thought or a pause for air. The most he did in that regard was sharply inhale the breath that leaked from her lungs once their lips parted, only to smear his lips back to her own after he swallowed her gasp. She twitched under his weight, cried and moaned as he pounded her pussy unlike anyone she’d ever laid with.

This was who she was now, who she wanted to be. A cocksleeve, desperate for attention and addled by her own lust. Her own boyfriend was a far off thought, an increasingly distant memory in her scrambled mind. All that mattered to her was her boss’ toned, firm body. His thick, hung cock that put others to shame. All that mattered to Alya, and all she wanted now, was Adrien Agreste. His body, his length, his pleasure.

She reveled in the emotion, the delight wide on her face. Alya sucked proudly at his tongue, clung hungrily to his frame. She was his toy now, where she belonged. It felt like this was always where she was meant to be, under her best friend’s rich boyfriend while her own sat at home unaware of what she was doing. The guilt and shame she should have felt only made her feel better for having gone through with this, 

“In!” Alya begged him without thought. “Inside, please! ”

Adrien hadn’t said anything, made no sign that he was even close. Yet she cried for it all the same, on the off chance that he’d pull out. Deep down she knew it was unlikely, that the choice had already been made the moment she’d signed the contract that granted her this position. But she had to make her desires known, unable to help herself now that she’d come undone. Adrien continued to thrust away at her with added force all the same, his only reply the grin he proudly wore along his lips.

Alya only peeked at it, her vision a near total blur. Her mind felt as if it were blank and her body grew numb. Adrien only used her, just as she’d been told he would. Just as she’d hoped he would. Suddenly she wasn’t some intrepid reporter turned aspiring journalist, yearning for some position in the industry that she’d inadvertently grown captivated by. Instead she was some rich man’s fucktoy. Adrien Agreste’s desperate cocksleeve, a mess of sweat and moans that writhed as Adrien slammed his weight against her again and again.

She thought it would never end. She hoped it wouldn’t. That she could say splayed out on his desk, naked and her sins left bare for him to indulge in. The harsh clapping of his hips to her own, the shared smack of their flesh that echoed through his office. No amount of dreaming could land her a job she’d love as much as this. Nothing could ever feel as perfect at this, as unabashedly cheating on her beloved with her best friend’s boyfriend.

At least, that’s what she believed as Adrien effectively humped the imprint of her body to the mahogany of his desk. Her jaw widely slacked and a trail of drool down her cheek, her head was left to relax along the wood after Adrien pried his lips from her own. He tightly sealed them over one nipple, then trailed his attention along her breast with marks left behind on every patch of flesh he crossed. He repeated the act on her opposite breast, deliberately leaving hickeys wherever he happened to kiss.

Alya was pinned, pounded and marked by her new boss. His weight held her still and his lips made her shiver. The glasses slipped entirely from her face and onto the floor as he bucked harshly at her pussy again, his hands wrapped around her head. With his grasp tender, he pulled her into another kiss that saw his tongue teased the edges of her throat. Before he truly sank into her, however, he just as quickly pulled his tongue away. 

He sat up on his knees between her legs, his palms along her hips as he pulled her ass up from his desk. Adrien held her tightly as he thrust again and again, more haggard and slowed. She might have thought that he was running into exhaustion as she long since had, That wasn’t the case, however, as Adrien was instead surprising her all over again. For as good as this felt, to embrace her most debauched fantasies and surrender to his desires so fully and completely, it wasn’t as perfect as she’d thought.

Not until, that is, she felt him cum.

Adrien grew tense, his body still after he buried his cock to the base inside of her. It was slow at first, subtle enough that she didn’t notice the sensation over her own racing heart. But with just a few moments, Alya realized he’d stopped thrusting. That he’d simply held her, his hands pressed down along the sides of her ass. Her eyes slowly opened and focused on him, on his reddened face and the grin he wore as his cock throbbed and warmth filled her pussy.

She thought herself settled, composed enough not to fidget or flinch. But it didn’t last. Not with the divine filling her as it did. Staring at Adrien as he came inside of her broke what little sense she had left, and Alya soon enough outright screamed. It was loud, harsh, her voice laced with exhausted delight. Her knees twitched and her body struggled at the heat drained into her, as her pussy was overwhelmed despite how she clung to his cock. Alya wanted so desperately to milk Adrien’s balls, to have him fill her so full the effects would show as soon as she slipped from his desk.

And though she proved too tired to do as much, she wouldn’t have to. Alya had little she even could do, as Adrien laid himself back on top of her. His weight pinned her in place while his cock throbbed and ached inside of her, a trickle of his cum leaking down along her taint as she grew more and more overwhelmed. Alya huffed down the breath she captured in her throat and stared into his eyes as he held himself over her, shivering and twitching beneath him.

“Adrien,” She said, eyes wide and a palm laced along his cheek. “I’m…I’m yours.”

“Yes,” Adrien nodded, his voice so tender and his thumb to her chin. “You are.”

Alya smiled widely at that, it almost felt romantic. As if they were making some long held confession to one another. That was far from the truth, however. There was no true romantic love between them. Whatever they shared was purely physical, and Adrien proved it in how he reared his hips slightly back with his palms back at her waist. He held her tightly and stared deep into her eyes as he slammed himself forward again, finally and fully.

“Ah -” Alya gasped, her head thrown back as she screamed in her delight. “Adrien! ”

Adrien only grinned as he truly let himself go inside of her. As his cum overwhelmed Alya’s pussy and surely filled her womb. Her eyes rolled upward in her head and her jaw remained slacked, her tongue freely hanging against her lower lip as she found pleasure of her own. She clenched harshly around him, unable to help herself. Her tone of voice grew louder and higher pitched and surely would have alerted anyone who happened to be on the same floor as them, until his lips pressed to her own again.

There wasn’t any love in the way he kissed her. No passion or affection, no care. Adrien kissed her simply because he wanted to, because her mouth was open and his cock was busy breeding her womb. Alya felt the thought graze her mind, that she wasn’t on the pill and there was little protection between them. Where once that would have shocked her and led her into shame, Alya instead only moaned louder at the fleeting possibility with an ember of hope that maybe it would lead to such a thing.

Regardless, Alya basked in the sensation for as long as she could. The feeling of Adrien’s thick, hard cock buried inside of her aching, overwhelmed pussy. How his cum leaked out of her, how the sweat formed on her brow. Adrien pulled out slowly enough that strands of his cum shot along Alya’s bare body, with streaks of white as far up as the undersides of her breasts. He made his claim to her body more thorough than that, though, with an eager hand that masturbated himself as he deliberately aimed his length at her crotch.

And that’s what Alya felt, in that moment. That she’d been claimed. Taken by someone other than the man she’d spent so long with now. Not stolen, not corrupted or blackmailed. It hadn’t been forced on her, she’d done this willingly. Let him take her as he did of her own accord. She embraced this because this was how she’d felt, it just took her best friend and her boyfriend to make her see it. What she was, what she wanted to be.

Alya Césaire was Adrien Agreste’s whore, as she always should have been.

Adrien pulled himself from her slowly, a peck at her cheek a fleeting lash of heat that faded just as he slipped off the desk. He stood for a moment yet looking over her, at his new assistant’s splayed out and exhausted frame. She didn’t try to look at him, to read his face. Alya knew what expression he wore without focusing on him. His face would be the same as ever, if a bit reddened and strained. A tender grin that held depravity behind his pursed, smug lips.

Alya herself remained mostly motionless as she slumped out along his desk, her limbs relaxing in the newfound yet narrow space the lack of his body afforded. She missed the heat it offered already, however, and the sensation of his weight atop her. Whatever she was, whatever she thought of herself before she entered his company building this morning was far from her mind. All that mattered was what she had become since she’d walked through the front doors, since she’d let herself into his office and given herself to him.

Slowly, she stopped her panting. The room eased from the rotation it had taken on, at least to her eyes. She found composure and sense again after however long, it felt like hours but surely was simply minutes. Alya rolled her head softly, her hair splayed out along and over the edge of the desk as feeling returned to her nerves. A quiet sigh leaked from between her lips as she found the strength to push herself upright.

What she saw didn’t surprise her in the least, though she blushed all the same. Her naked body was coated in a mess of sweat, cum and bitemarks. Most of those were focused on her chest, though she found a few hickeys had been laced along her neck. They were just low enough that a scarf might yet hide whatever shame she had left, if there were any. Further down her body she noticed the trail of cum that leaked from her thoroughly used pussy, the strands that coated her inner thighs. 

Her eye was caught, though, by the slight reflection in his desk. Alya found her hair had become frizzy and unkempt, a mess atop her head. Her makeup had been smeared, with her eyeliner having run slightly from what was surely the unrepentant pleasure she’d felt. The expression she found waiting for her in the reflection was what attracted her attention the most, however, as she expected the rest of what she saw.

It wasn’t that Alya didn’t recognize herself in the subtle, blurry echo of herself. It was that she wore a face of warmth and comfort, as if she were happy with what she’d done. The smirk along her lips had remained, despite how tired her mouth had become. In spite of the debauchery she so willfully engaged in. She sat atop Adrien’s desk with a near smile on her face, her body naked and made a mess of. His cum leaked from her pussy, it was very possible that she could end up pregnant from this.

And Alya only smiled.

Until, that is, she slumped back again. Exhaustion hit her in a wave that saw her desperate to stretch her limbs and curl up all the same. She glimpsed at one of the few picture frames that hadn’t been knocked over, one that held an image of herself, Marinette, Adrien and Nino. She should have felt shame, guilt, or something negative. But as Alya trailed her fingertips from Marinette, to Adrien, then finally to herself, she simply didn’t.

Her eyes roamed towards the left side of the room, where she believed Adrien had disappeared to. Just as she’d thought, he stood on the other end and was fiddling with something. A door she hadn’t noticed was opened and inside, it appeared to be something of a closet. With a towel pulled from a drawer, he’d cleaned himself of the mess they’d made and exchanged the faintly stained attire he’d worn for something fresher. Alya tilted her head forward and stared at the ceiling for a moment, still high on the bliss that coursed through her.

“Here,” Adrien said as he approached her. “You’ll need this.”

Alya perked up and found herself presented with an outfit that he’d pulled from that closet. It was a short, predominantly dark orange flannel shirt and a skirt of a far sturdier, more expensive material than the one she’d gotten for herself. The ensemble had clearly been planned, and she briefly wondered if it wasn’t a Marinette Dupain-Cheng original. She sat up slowly and accepted what was offered, then slipped onto her feet.

Her knees still slightly weak, she leaned on Adrien’s chair for support while she made herself as decent as her new boss would allow. There was no bra or panties to be found in the set, just as the dress code instructed. And with a tug at the skirt and some effort in pushing the buttons through their given holes, Alya found herself dressed again. She tossed her hair and ran a few fingers through it in lieu of a brush, then stepped into the shoes she’d earlier abandoned. 

Suddenly, it was as if nothing had ever happened. That she hadn’t walked into the boss’ office and made herself into his plaything. Like his cum wasn’t still faintly warm inside of her, that his markings were sucked into her flesh. Alya glanced out a nearby window at Paris, the city that would never know just how much of a slut she was. She knew this would likely never leave Adrien’s office, though part of her wanted it to.

“Oh, and-” Adrien leaned down and returned upright with her glasses, yet intact. “You’ll probably need these, too.”

He brandished them with that characteristic smile, so warm and kind. Like he hadn’t just fucked her brains out over his desk, as if he hadn’t ruined her throat for any other man - much less her own boyfriend. Alya took them gently from his hand and fixed them to her face, only for him to take them back. He huffed at the glass and used the edge of his buttoned down shirt to clear the cum stain that lingered on the frame, then gave them back and tucked his shirt back in.

“There.” Adrien chuckled. “Much better.”

“Yeah,” Alya pushed her glasses up her nose. “Much.”

Adrien gave her a nod and set himself forward with a few steps, and Alya found herself compelled to follow behind him. She felt as if she should be holding a clipboard or a tablet, though perhaps that would come later. It wasn’t until they reached the office door, itself having been ajar the entire time, that she stopped where she stood. While Adrien reached for the handle to open it wider, she took the chance to speak what sat on her mind.

“What, uh,” Alya batted her eyes at him. “What are we doing now, sir? ”

“Now?” Adrien pulled the door and gestured her forward. “We’re getting some lunch.”

She scoffed warmly and gave him a nod of her own before she stepped beyond his office. To her surprise, she found a few people standing outside. Two of them were working over designs, while the rest were simply talking. It was as if the outside of his office was a break room, perhaps for those higher up on the company’s ladder. Alya blushed as she found herself wondering just how long they’d been there, what all they’d heard. If she’d had an audience of a sort listening in and even watching her submit to depravity. 

Adrien greeted his employees, he waved and smiled at them and they did the same back. Everyone acted with a nonchalance, regardless of what was and wasn’t heard. That whatever they might have been privy to was commonplace enough that they didn’t flinch only made Alya’s blush darken. Yet, she showed no pause or hesitation in how she walked with her boss to the elevator door that had led her to his office.

Instead, she walked with the same confidence she’d entered the building with. While Adrien fidgeted with the buttons until the elevator was summoned to their floor, she stood in composure. This was who she was now, and maybe who she was meant to be. Adrien Agreste’s toy, a stress reliever for her best friend’s boyfriend even if her own would never know it. That there may be after effects from this position, from the marks and bruises she already had to the potential for pregnancy, did cross her mind. But, as the doors ahead of them opened, she found that she didn’t care.

With a wide, satisfied grin along her lips and a trail of Adrien’s cum slowly running down her bare thigh, Alya happily stepped onto the elevator with her new boss.