by Alexis Angel
I keep on stroking him as he cums and it seems that, with every stroke of my hand, more and more cum gushes out of his cock. Seriously, he holds so much cum inside of him that it’s almost unbelievable. It’s almost inhuman. But, feel free to call me greedy, I want all of it. And so I keep on stroking him, not stopping until his cock finally stops pulsing against the palm of my hand.
My face is completely covered with semen, so much that I can barely open my eyes. Thick ropes of it are already dripping down my neck and climbing the rising curve of my breasts, going around my nipples and then continuing down to my stomach. My body is a wet mess, and I couldn’t be any gladder that we’re aboard Air Force One, a plane with showers on board.
I think of getting up and crushing my cum-coated lips against Austin’s mouth but, perhaps reading my thoughts, he lowers himself in front of me and goes down to his knees. Reaching for me with both hands, he places them on either side of my face and, holding my head in place, he leans toward me.
My lips part by instinct and my eyelids droop; next think I know we’re kissing, cum dripping down both our chins as our tongues wrestle over an ocean of cum. The manly taste of his seed climbs up from my mouth and into my brain, making me almost delirious.
“I can’t help it,” Austin whispers as he pulls back from our kiss. “I get fucking crazy whenever I’m with you,” he continues, smiling as his eyes light up with amusement. “I’ve never done this kind of stuff with anyone else, you know?” he says, and I can tell that, in a way, he’s opening up to me. He’s telling me that, amidst this wickedness, lies a kind of trust he was never capable of offering to any other woman.
Unable of providing an adequate response to his admission, I simply offer him a tender smile. Not needing an answer, he simply smiles back at me and leans in again; going straight for my nipples, he wraps his lips around my right one and uses his tongue to trace its contour, making it move in fast circles around it. He then moves to my left nipple and does the same there, his tongue cleaning my skin and drying it from the cum that coats it.
When he finally has licked all of the cum from my nipples, he slides the tip of his tongue down my body, only stopping when has his lips firmly pressed against my clit. Sucking it into his mouth, he laps at it with his tongue, drawing a long purr out of my lips.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” I tell him, running my fingers through his hair as he finally takes his mouth off of my pussy.
“Me too,” he simply breathes out, but I don’t need him to say anything else. His two words were truthful, and that’s all I need from him.
Moving slowly, as if his body weighs a ton, Austin then sinks down onto his seat. Bending over, he grabs my hand and pulls me toward him; I sit on his lap again and we remain like that for a long time, enjoying the silence as we both gaze out the window, the eternal valleys and ridges of the Grand Canyon coming into existence underneath us.
It’s almost ironic when you think of it; rocks are almost eternal in their insignificance, but the moments that really matter are as ephemeral as a passing breeze. Perhaps the trick is in not wanting to become a stone, but in learning how to enjoy the breeze.
As for me, I’m enjoying this breeze.
More than just that, I’m loving it.
22
Austin
The crowd is going wild. A sea of clapping hands erupts across the audience.
It feels good to come out here and accomplish what I set out to do, and it hasn't been easy. This crowd was a tough nut to crack.
"What's the biggest challenge for you, as President, when it comes to realizing this jobs bill?" one constituent asks. "Can you shed some light on that for all of us?"
"Sure, good question," I reply. "I believe the challenge will be in prioritizing the right infrastructure projects that are going to propel jobs, and the economy. And I've thought a lot about this and have worked with a lot of different infrastructure, so I believe I have a plan in place that will do just that."
"Mr. President," another man says, standing up from his seat, "And what about the private sector?" He must be in his 70s, and looks like a retired businessman.
"Another great question," I smile. "The private sector is ready to invest in these projects—all of them—right now. And who wouldn't want that?"
I hear more clapping now, and a woman stands up, a microphone clutched in her hands.
"Will these infrastructure projects really create jobs, just as your bill is proposing?" she asks.
"Yes, absolutely," I say. "But it won't be easy. History has taught us that nothing worth fighting for is ever easy. But this bill will create jobs not just for today, but for future generations as well because this infrastructure will need maintenance—long-term operation. And of course that means more jobs, for us, and for our children."
The clapping continues, and I'm on a roll.
I raise my hands to quiet the crowd and continue, ""But Bob Walker opposes this bill."
I hear some booing and hissing ripple through the audience. The energy immediately changes into something dark and brooding, like a storm cloud looming on the horizon.
"I urge each and every one of you to let Walker know how you feel! In fact, I suggest you do it now," I say, giving the audience both his direct phone number and email address. I figure now's as good a time as any. I watch as people scribble this information on scraps of paper, or input it directly into their cell phones.
Some are even dialing him in their seats, not willing to waste another minute, and the trend catches on like wildfire. Phones are starting to ring and people are calling Walker on the spot. They're flooding his phone line, and jamming his inbox.
I realize that I'm finally able to sell people on my vision for the whole country, and it feels good. This is what I've always wanted.
And to top it off, I'm winning over Bob Walker's hometown crowd.
I'm being honest with them. I'm delivering the facts to them. I'm giving them the truth. Nothing is sugarcoated.
And because of that, it's a sweet victory.
"So remember," I say, wrapping everything up in a nice, neat package, "for the biggest gains, believe in Austin Bain!"
People are on their feet now, clapping and smiling, and loving it. They can see that I truly care about the future of this country, and I couldn't be happier. In fact, I'm feeling lighter than a helium balloon.
A chant erupts, "Four more years! Four more years! Four more years!"
Victory. Sweet victory.
I walk off of the stage, and look for Tracy and Ashley. I immediately see them waiting for me in the wings.
"Nice job," Ashley smiles, wrapping her arms around me and giving me a tight hug.
"Yeah, you really won that tough crowd over," Tracy agrees.
"So, good news," Ashley beams. "The school tour was a success!"
"That's great," I smile, giving her another hug. "Tell me all about it."
"Well, I really connected with both the parents and the teachers. It all felt so natural," Ashley says. She's so happy that she's glowing. "And the last I looked, both social media and the press are reacting favorably."
Tracy pulls out her phone and scans through her Twitter feed. "The hashtag #GainWithBain is trending nation wide," she smiles. "Listen to some of these tweets. One man tweeted, 'What r u waiting for? MOVE. We need jobs NOW #GainWithBain.' And here's another one: 'Keep speaking the truth. Thank you Mr. President #GainWithBain.'"
"Sounds like you've really made a positive impression," Ashley winks at me.
"I can say the same about you," I reply with a grin.
Tracy looks up at us both and says, "You two make a great team—that's for sure, but I'm still worried about antagonizing Bob Walker. He's not going to be happy about all of this. In fact, I can picture him staring red-faced at the headlines."
"I'm not worried about Walker," I say. "I've always told you that man was full of steam. Nothing more."
"I'm not so sure, Austin," Tracy says. "You shou
ldn't underestimate him. He still has a very large pool of supporters that we can't ignore. I mean it."
"I know," I say. "Believe me, I know he has supporters of his own—and a lot of them, but there's no way Walker will be able to afford to piss off voters."
"That's true," Tracy nods, but I can see a hint of worry etched into her face. I wonder if she's holding something back.
I know she's right. I can never get too comfortable.
Tracy looks down at her phone and checks the time. "You two better get to the airport—quick. Your flight leaves in less than an hour. And whatever you do, don't forget about tonight. You have a fundraising dinner to attend."
Ashley and I give Tracy our word that we won't forget the dinner, and before we know it, we are back in the presidential limo, en route to the airport.
Ashley places her hand in mine. And I smile as I slide into the cool leather of the seat and think to myself, so this is what victory feels like.
23
Washington Beat
Dynamic Duo!
From the desk of Margie Preston – our political reporter and lately, resident dating expert
When they say two heads are better than one, they aren’t joking. The dynamic duo of Ashley Draper and Austin Bain already seems to be paying dividends for the country.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m still crushing over the Chief Executive of America, Inc. His fine body and gorgeous physique. But I also want to see him succeed in his mission to Make America Tremendous Again and it looks like he’s doing that quite well with help from his fiancée.
“Women used to be the bane of President Bain,” an anonymous source from inside the White House commented to me. “But lately, with just one woman, he’s able to get the country to focus with laser sharp precision on the issues that it needs to tackle head on.”
This ability to focus on issues and get them sorted has been evidenced just as early as yesterday when Speaker of the House Bob Walker, in his quest to be the thorn in the President’s side, was cast a crushing defeat. The President and future First Lady arrived in Walker’s home state, and delivered a large town hall style meeting. The First Lady also got in a tour of some schools with some comments to the press.
The result?
By the end of the town hall meeting, phone lines were jammed at the offices of Bob Walker and emails were pouring in supporting the President.
“Gain with Bain!” an admirer chanted when asked what about the President she found so compelling. “He’s fucking hot. But he understands the problems of working class Americans who are struggling to keep from falling behind. He’s trying to help us and everyone else is trying to take him down!”
The sentiment was echoed throughout the nation. In a random sample survey conducted by Washington Beat in partnership with the New York Daily Journal, over 80% of Americans indicated that they approved of the job performance of the President. A further 78% of Americans indicated that they believed that Ms. Draper would make a good First Lady.
A whopping 67% of Americans believed that she had the right temperament and demeanor to help the President overcome challenges he may have had.
And finally, 95% of Americans believe that the President is much better off with Ms. Draper than without her. Fun fact though that the poll also measured. Roughly 72% of all female respondents wished that they could switch places with Ashley Draper and be the President’s fiancée.
Well, that 72% of female Americans (and quite a few men too, I’ll wager) also includes me. And while I am disappointed that I won’t be able to run my tongue down the Presidential abs any time soon after meeting him at a bar and having him take me to the back room where he would take me to paradise three or four times with those 12 inches that Washington rumors say he’s got swinging between his legs…
Oh my, well, that went a bit off track, I suppose. Nevertheless, I think we are going to have a very fine White House with a very amazing First Family if the last several weeks are any indication.
It’s going to be an amazing rest of term. I’m looking forward to it!
24
Ashley
“You’re the queen of the ballroom,” Austin whispers into my ear as we waltz through the room arm-in-arm. I look up at him and smile, a warm feeling making my heart beat softly.
“Thank you, Mr. President,” I whisper back at him teasingly, my smile widening as another senator lines up to greet us.
Austin’s Town Hall performance was a show for the ages, something akin to Jimmy Hendrix at Woodstock, and everyone seems to have decided to turn this fundraising dinner into a celebratory gala of sorts. Of course, luck would have it that the place would be packed with all the usual DC suspects. But what was I expecting? You don’t go to the Ritz to mingle with your everyday American. And, although I’m not interested in impressing all this supposed elite, that’s the reason I’m now wearing an expensive deep blue Carolina Herrera gown. I might not want to impress anyone tonight, but I have to do it; it’s part of being Austin’s fiancée.
“Congratulations, Mr. President,” another senator says, shaking Austin’s hand heartily and then turning to shake mine. It’s been like this for the past 20 minutes, since we strolled inside the room that an army of senators, aides, pundits and what have you, have lined up to congratulate Austin on his terrific performance at the Town Hall. Judging by the way some of these senators are speaking, you’d say that the Presidential elections are just going to be a formality, one to open the way into four more years of Austin as President.
More than just a great success for Austin, the Town Hall was a kick in the balls for Walker. Austin wiped the floor with Walker’s reputation and, after his little stunt of giving Walker’s phone number to the audience, I’ve heard that all of his staff has been buried under all the calls they’re receiving. The media should change Austin’s nickname from President Player to President Prankster.
Giving Austin a moment of privacy with one of the senators, I step to the side and accept a flute of champagne from one of the passing waiters. I lean slightly against one of the walls at the end of the ballroom, watching him from a distance.
I can hardly believe that, just a few weeks ago, I felt nothing but disdain toward Austin. And now look at me, feeling proud of my man. And, yeah, I said my man. I can’t say exactly when I started developing feelings for Austin, but it happened. At first I thought it was just lust and desire, a physical craving that somehow was making me feel all confused, but I quickly realized that it was more than just that.
And now, looking at him in his perfect tuxedo, his strong posture dominating the room, I can’t help but feel proud that I’m his fiancée. I know… I’m just a fake fiancée but, somehow, this feels real. Taking a deep breath, I try to push all these feelings to the back of my mind, after all, I have a job to do.
Finishing with the senator, Austin makes his way toward me, dodging a long line of people still expecting a personal word from the President.
“This is going well, isn’t it?” he asks me, placing one hand on my waist and looking around the room with a confident smile.
“It’s going perfectly,” I reply, keeping mental notes of how everyone in the room is reacting to him. Most people are genuine in the way they’re congratulating Austin, but some of them just rub me off in the wrong way. And, trust me, if there’s something I’ve learned how to do, it’s how to read people. I guess that the talents that helped me turn my company into a success are coming in handy now.
“But it’s going to be even more perfect once we get out of here,” he whispers offhandedly, his words barely audible.
“Oh, why’s that?” I reply in the same tone, looking at him and running my tongue between my lips. It’s not like I need him to say it ... but I want him to.
“Celebrating here is fine … but I want to do a celebration of our own once we get home. A naked kind of celebration.”
“You’re in luck ... “ I whisper teasingly, offering him a wicked grin. “I’ve already sa
ved us some time.” He arches one eyebrow, waiting for an explanation, and I just smile and breathe out softly. “I’m not wearing anything under this gown…”
“Jesus,” he mutters with a chuckle, stealing my flute of champagne and downing the whole thing at once. “You keep saying stuff like that and I might end up fucking you in front of all these people.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad,” I laugh, but I quickly shut up as a tall man with balding hair steps through the double doors of the ballroom all by himself. Even though I’ve never him, I’ve seen his face enough times on TV to know who he is.
Bob Walker, Speaker of the House and Austin’s sworn enemy.
I can feel the tension rise in the room as Walker ambles through the ballroom, his beady eyes finding Austin and me. Without a missed step, he makes a straight line toward the both of us, an arrogant smile adorning his thin lips.
“Mr. President!” he greets Austin with his high-pitched voice, offering him his hand.
“Walker,” Austin replies coolly, taking the man’s hand into his. “Glad you’ve found the time to show up.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss a party like this for the world, would I? And who is this lovely lady?” he asks, turning to me as his grin widens. He knows exactly who I am, but he’s still insisting on a formal introduction. This is the kind of man who needs the political game of intrigue more than he needs the air to breathe.
“My fiancée, Ashley,” Austin introduces me, and I offer Walker my hand. He takes it in his and, instead of simply shaking it, he bends over and kisses the back of my hand with a flourish from his free hand.
