by Alexis Angel
I’m dressed in a long, dark red dress that would probably be more appropriate for a luxury evening out than an opening of a bookstore. I don’t care, because it’s a big day to me, and I wanted to go all out and dress up for a change.
“Go out to the car, and I’ll come right after you. I forgot something in the bedroom.”
I sigh and turn to leave. I don’t ask what he could possibly have forgotten. I have my clutch purse in hand with my iPhone, and that’s all I need for now. I slowly head to the car and hope that he’s not long and this isn’t one of his little surprises. We don’t have time for that. It took me a lot longer to get ready than I thought that it would, because I was half awake. Now, I’m fully awake, and all I want to do is get going.
“Here we go,” he says as he gets in on his side, and I roll my eyes at him. I know by his resulting chuckle that he noticed.
“Would you just drive?”
“Of course!” he says, reaching across to take my hand. He kisses it and then starts the engine, and we’re on our way. There’s hardly any traffic, which is another good reason we decided on doing this at ten rather than nine in the morning.
The drive doesn’t seem to take that long especially because I’m too nervous to chitchat. If we talk about the opening, I’ll start thinking of something and decide that I must have forgotten to do it and start to panic.
Eric parks the car against the curb, and we step out not too far from the corner of the store. Outside on the curb are the girls and the one guy who’s now going to be working for me. I still can’t get over the fact that I’m going to have staff and people will be working for me.
I can’t believe that for the first time in a long time, we have potential customers lining up, something that the marketing team have been working hard on achieving over the last few weeks.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” a coworker yells out, to excited shouts from the crowd.
As Eric and I step up to the ribbon, Rebecca hands me a pair of scissors after a short hug. I hold it for a few seconds, just for the suspense. I can hear the audience take a collective breath as I snip the ribbon, and they become a very excited crowd.
“This is amazing,” I tell Eric as we start to head inside and mingle with the crowd.
Jessica helped plan some of it, and it’s perfect. I can't stop smiling, especially as I look at both the customers and staff smiling and laughing. Others are moving with some books to the new area we closed off where people can relax at the comfy sit-down area.
“This place looks really good, but I want to tell Jessica. I just can’t find her.”
Eric shakes his head. “She’s probably checking on something. She’s a perfectionist. You’ll see her eventually!”
I still can't believe that so many different classes of people are here tonight and just to see the opening of the store. It’s so damn impressive.
His arm tightens around my waist. “I have another surprise for you.”
My eyebrows jump up. “We’re not done with those?”
“I’m hoping you’ll let me off the hook for this one.”
Then he goes down on one knee, and I feel like I can't breathe. The room quietens down pretty quickly, and I know the focus is on us.
“Elia,” he starts, and I’m hanging on his every word. “We haven’t known each other very long, I’ll be the first to admit. But… in the three months I’ve known you, I’ve felt so much more than I ever have with anyone else, and I know you’re the one for me.”
A smile is playing on his lips, he knows how cheesy his lines are. They still bring tears to my eyes.
“Elia, will you marry me?”
That’s when I see my parents in a corner. They told me they couldn’t make it. And by their side is Jessica. That’s where she went to make sure that my parents were okay. Damn! I was really wrong about her.
I suck in a shaky breath, blinking my eyes free of tears so I can see his eyes as a trembling smile spreads on my face.
“Yes! I’ll marry you, Eric.”
He surges up, and I squeal before laughing as he lifts me up in a spin, clapping and congratulating shouts surrounding us. I can’t believe that in the span of three months, not only am I a manager, but I’m getting married, too.
Life couldn’t be better and every single time that I think it can’t happen, Eric makes it happen. I love him, and I know that we’re going to be happy together. I just love him too much for us not to be anything but happy.
Just then, Virginia shows up!
Yes, there’s more. Like this happy ending seems to have a bonus round. When I see Rose, I know. I know right away what’s coming next. I know this is the secret that Eric had her keeping. I can’t hold back the tears welling up in my eyes. She’s holding a manila folder and walking towards me with a bit smile on her face.
“Lee-ya!” She calls out and wraps her arms around me. “Will you be my mommy?”
Through my sobs, I manage my answer. “Yes, baby girl, I would love to be your mommy.” I pick her up in my arms, and Eric holds us both tight. He kisses us both and I’m crying so much that I can’t even see. I have never been so happy in my life.
And yeah I should have known better when Eric told me earlier that Virginia was taking Rose to a movie.
I can’t believe how perfect my life is. I’ve read a lot of books, but for me nothing will ever compare to my own story.
Mr. President
They call me President Player. I got my finger on your button.
You wanna be the chief of my Staff?
Rub my 12-inch lust muscle till it shines?
I can make you explode with the flick of a wrist.
Give you what I like to call an Executive O.
When the media starts going after my bad boy lifestyle I know its time to switch it up.
That’s when I hire Ashley. She’ll pretend to be engaged to me so I can get the press off my back.
We gotta be careful and not get caught.
But its hard because she’s just so damn gorgeous.
I just want to push that tight little body of hers up against the wall.
Make her hail to her Chief. Over and over, till she can’t walk.
Yeah, the relationship may be fake.
But her face is telling me that the pleasure is simply Presidential.
America…it time to meet your future First Lady. Also known as…my fake fiancée.
Austin
"Oh, fuck me harder, Mr. President!"
I slam my 12-inch cock into Jia Park—the ambassador from South Korea—hard enough to knock a vase of flowers off the side table that she's clutching in both hands. I watch as the flowers tumble to the floor.
I've bent her over every inch of this hotel suite—the toppled sleek American chairs are a testament to this—and I'm just getting fucking started.
With both of my hands on her hips, I thrust again and again; my hips are rocking back and forth as I ravage her from behind with the force of a storm. With my thunder, I aim to give her a hot fucking bolt of lightening that she'll never forget.
"A dragon was born in a stream," she purrs, her long blue-black hair as dark as ink, and sticking to her neck with sweat. "And that dragon is you." She's looking back at me with smoldering eyes, waiting to see if I understand this Korean idiom.
It's not lost on me; I've done my homework.
I've prepared for this moment.
The dragon is a good reference. What the fuck did she think she was dealing with, a bunny rabbit? No, I'm a man on a mission, and I pack some serious fire between my legs.
"Kamsa-hamnida," I reply, thanking her in Korean, which surprises her.
Yes, I can be savage between the sheets, but I'm also diplomatic.
"You're a man of many talents," she smiles, and the way her lips seductively turn up at each corner of her mouth makes my cock hard as granite.
Of course I am. I’m Austin fucking Bain.
President of the United States.
The younges
t President. At 35 years old.
The hottest President. Check out my bedroom eyes on the cover of TIME Magazine. My 8-pack abs on CNN. My defined body on Fox News.
Whether you’re a Republican or Democrat, conservative or liberal, there’s no denying you want my cut pecs and broad shoulders to be the one holding up this country.
And while you’re at it, I can bet you want to be on your knees. Get a good view of my giant fucking python as it pulses in your mouth.
That’s right. I might be the President. But I know what I’m packing.
I pull my cock out of her pussy with a wet pop, and turn her around. I pick her up in my strong arms, lifting her off the floor, and I watch as she runs her hands over my bulging biceps.
She's impressed.
She then wraps her slender legs around my waist, and I angle my cock toward her wet pussy, teasing it by rubbing it back and forth over her slick folds.
“Fuck me, just keep fucking me,” she cries out loud, as if it's some kind of torture.
I smile back at her and do as I'm told; this time, there's no teasing. I thrust at once, and drive my 12-inch cock so deep into her that she lets out a violent scream.
She curls her toes and rakes her nails across my back and shoulders before running her fingers through my hair and pulling wildly.
She's now fucking me, grinding her pussy up and down my cock, squeezing her legs around my hips for support. And then her entire body tenses and she throws her head back, her mouth is open wide.
"Oh, fuck," she moans mid-orgasm, the walls of her pussy clenching and spasming on my cock.
I feel a trickle of sweat zigzag down my chiseled chest, and I grin; this is better than any fucking gym workout.
I carry Jia Park to the bathroom, her legs still wrapped around my waist and her wet pussy impaled on my cock. I'm going to keep it buried inside of her pussy for as long as I can.
"Ga-ji-mah, don't go," she purrs.
"I'm not going anywhere without you right now," I reply, grinning. And I'm about to prove it to her.
Let me just say that I'm not your average politician.
As the youngest president to ever assume office in the US—even younger than Theodore Roosevelt—and like Teddy and his band of Rough Riders, I do things my way.
You don't get to be the youngest president ever elected by playing by the rules; you know what I mean?
And my cock is one of my greatest diplomatic tools. While it's true that, for me work and sex go hand in hand like white on rice, that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it. There's no shortage of pleasure.
"I want more," Jia smiles devilishly, "so much more."
"So do I," I reply, grabbing her ass cheeks in both of my fists. "So do I."
I head for the glass-walled shower. The elegance of the Sofitel Hotel is everywhere, even in the bathroom. I feel the cool marble flooring beneath my bare feet, and I slide the glass door open to the shower.
I take her off my cock, and we both step foot into the shower. I turn the knob, and in a minute, we're standing beneath a steaming jet of water that's beginning to fog up the entire bathroom.
I smile and turn her around, grabbing her hands and placing them up against the marbled shower wall. I reach down and slide my hand down the crack of her ass, and slide a finger into her wet pussy until I reach her G-spot.
"Yes, oh yes," she shivers. "More."
I pull my fingers out of her pussy and drag them across her lips. She smiles and opens her mouth, and begins sucking on my fingers as I angle my cock with my other hand into her pussy, and piston in and out of her.
"Does your pussy taste good?" I ask her, thrusting my hips. She nods to me with a smile.
I keep thrusting until I feel the walls of her pussy spasm on my cock once more. Jia is moaning and arching her back.
"That's it," I tell her, "Come for me."
"Oh yes, Mr. President! Yes! Yes!" she yells out, as her orgasm takes over her body, loud enough for everyone in this fucking hotel to hear. She's screaming loud enough to shatter the glass of these shower walls.
"That's it," I grin. "Just like that."
You may be thinking that I just fuck people for the hell of it. Sure, I love fucking beautiful women just as much as the next guy—and I'm fucking good at it—no the best—but you've got to believe me when I say this is work too.
You see this little tryst with Jia Park? It's all a part of my job.
Don't believe me?
Well, it's just all part of my overall plan to help turn the country around. Just you wait and see.
"Bae-go-pa, I'm hungry," Jia says, "for your cock."
"On your knees," I smile. I know I'm the best fuck she's ever had. I'm the best fuck any woman has ever had. It's no secret that I'm good in bed. Women worship my cock.
I watch as she obeys, and then opens her mouth as wide as she can. I seize the opportunity and roll my shaft all the way in, inch by inch.
There’s a wet sound when my tip hits the back of her throat, but there’s no denying it—she loves every single moment of this.
There’s nothing like almost choking on a 12-inch long cock, is there?
“That’s it… Suck it,” I whisper to her, slowly sliding my cock in and out of her mouth.
I stroke her cheek with the back of my hand and then, with more force, rest my hand on the back of her head, pushing her deeper onto my cock.
She's so deep that my balls are resting against her lips.
And then, I come undone.
Pleasure rages through my veins with an undeniable intensity, and there’s no stopping it.
"Fuck," I hiss, with my teeth clenched. "You feel so good."
I can feel my pulse beating a quick rhythm in the chords of my neck. And then I bury my cock as deep as possible in her throat again and explode—rope after rope of hot cum is running down her throat and she's eagerly swallowing it. I look down and watch as her throat muscles contract, waves of pleasure coursing through me.
Then I pull my cock out, and watch as she milks the last strands of cum from my cock. She rubs the tip across her lips and licks at it eagerly.
"Dangshin-eul aju manhi johaha eyo," she purrs. "I like you."
It's a good thing I brushed up on my Korean. "I think this is going to be a good partnership," I smile.
Fuck. I love my job.
You see, I'm making the world a better place, one fuck at a time.
I may be a bad boy, but I've got a good heart. Yes, I'm rich but I was raised to value public service and charity.
I know what you're thinking. And I know what this looks like, but I'm not just in politics for the ego trip.
I care about the country … maybe too much. The media loves to portray me as some sex crazed bad boy, making waves just for the fuck of it. But they don't understand my motives. There's always a diplomatic reason behind my actions.
I look back at Jia as I prepare to leave. "Remember our deal," I say.
"I assure you," she replies, slipping her arms into a hotel robe, "I will do my best to sway the South Korean President toward a more open trade agreement with the US."
"Good," I reply, pressing my lips to hers in a final good bye. "We'll be in touch."
I reach for my clothes, and get dressed.
Another deal consummated. This one will bring back a lot of jobs back to America. Good, solid, manufacturing jobs. Back to the fucking heartland. Where politicians forgot all about the people.
See, I made my billions on Wall Street, but I was already rich.
But I realized, life isn’t just about making money and fucking women. Well, that’s good, but there’s more. I already did the Army after college. But I wanted to give back.
I could run my own charity, or I could actually help people by running for office. Because sure as hell I could see that ordinary Americans were getting shafted by the system. No one was listening to their voices.
It was time to change that.
I promised to bring back jobs to America.
To make opportunities come to every American again - not just the token few or well connected.
How can you be against that? How can you be against a President who gets shit done?
I try to discreetly exit the hotel, but with the Secret Service in tow, how discreet can you be? It's like trying to leave this place undetected with bells on my shoes.
So despite my best efforts, as soon as I exit out the back of the building, the press is all over me.
And watch. This is where it’s gonna start.
The flash of lights is everywhere and I pull a pair of dark-shaded sunglasses over my eyes, waving off reporters.
"Mr. President, is it true you're having sexual relations with a South Korean ambassador?" asks one red-faced reporter.
Another reporter jumps in, "Could I please have a moment? The people would like to know what exactly you were doing at the Sofitel Hotel. I'm guessing more than work."
I keep walking, looking straight ahead and ignore the question.
Then another reporter jumps forward, waving her arms, "Mr. President! Over here! Just one question—I—"
But Secret Service agents are all around me, and they don't let her finish. Their arms are outstretched, "Step aside," they say. "No questions. Give the President some space."
Just as I'm about to step inside of my limo, a scrawny reporter as thick as a licorice stick manages to weave his way through the crowd and in between the Secret Service agents. He has a microphone in his fist and he's pushing it in my face.
"How does it feel to know you're being dubbed, 'President Player'?" he asks.
President Player? Now he's gone too far. There's only so much slander I can take before I snap, and his comment is the final straw.
I feel my pulse kick into high gear. Who does this scrawny bastard think he is? I love this country, and I work hard.
Enough is enough. I have the urge to put my fist right into the middle of his face.
"Is that what you fucking think of me?" I say, feeling heat building under my shirt collar.
I reach over and try to grab hold of his coat, but two Secret Service agents hold me back. I'm trying to break free of their hold, but they urge me to stop.
