We stand up in front of him at the same time and, moving seductively, we turn into another. She pulls my dress down my legs, and then presses her body against mine. I reach behind her back and undo the clasp of her bra, and she does the same. We push them down at the same time and turn to him so that he can see our tits.
I’m lying if I’m telling you I’m not turned on.
Mistress Strokes is beautiful. And while I like the cock - namely Austin’s cock - a part of me is secretly excited feeling her fingers on my skin.
Almost there, I think as we start swaying our hips seductively. I hook my fingers on my thong and, biting on my lower lip, start pushing them down. Mistress Strokes does the same, and Lester’s eyes widen so much that I half-expect them to roll out of their orbits.
When we’re both finally naked, our discarded thongs on the floor, we climb back on top of the couch, our hands moving over his torso as we reach for his cock. Then, the moment we curl our fingers around his shaft, I hear a subtle sound coming from the entrance. The door creaks on its hinges as someone pushes it open, but I say nothing; I start stroking him, holding his cock upward as Strokes climbs on top of him. Lester grits his teeth, ready to fuck her, and she starts to ease herself down. That’s when a bright flash of light explodes in the room.
“Smile, you fucking bastard,” Austin says as he steps into the living room. There are four of his security guys with him, men in dark suits with a hard edge in their eyes. One of them has a camera in his hands, and he starts snapping pictures left and right as me and Strokes keep making the dirtiest faces of pleasure we can think of, pretending we’re having the time of our lives.
Yep, Mr. Commissioner, you’re fucked now.
“Girls, you can get away from him now,” Austin tells us with a victorious smile, and Strokes and I get off of the couch as fast as we can. I put my bra and thong on and step inside my dress, then turning to Lester and grinning.
“How do you like it now? You fucking bastard,” I hiss, and then walk up to him and kick him as hard as I can in the shins. He barely registers it; he simply looks around, his wide eyes now full of terror as his gaze jump from me to Strokes, and then from Strokes to Austin. He has lost, and he knows it.
After kicking him, I walk straight to Austin and fall into his embrace, closing my eyes as I try to push the memories of Lester’s touch to the back of my mind. The man disgusts me, through and through, and I think I’m going to have to take a very long shower after this. But what matters right now is that we’ve pulled it off. Lester played right into our hands, and now we hold all the cards.
If he comes after us, we’ll ruin him. About to fuck his stepdaughter and another woman. Audio recordings from my bag of him soliciting me for sex. Yeah, his career is gonna go down the drain, and all of his political clout will serve him for nothing. He will be discarded by the people above him like some filthy rag. And, of course, he would deserve all of that. And worst.
“We did it,” I whisper at Austin, kissing him on the lips.
“We did it, babe,” he smiles at me, and then he turns serious, taking one step back. “Now, I’m going to have a fucking conversation with that fucking asshole.”
24
Austin
“Lester boy,” I hiss, standing right in front of him. I tower over him, my shadow over his body, and he starts cowering. “Sit up, you pathetic excuse of a fucking man. I’m not going to beat you.” He relaxes at my words, sitting up straight, but his eyes are still wide with fear.
“You can’t do this… You can’t--” Before I can continue, I just punch him straight in the face. Fuck, that felt good. “You told me you wouldn’t hit me,” he cries out in pain, both his hands covering his nose. A straight line of blood starts dripping down from his nose and onto his lips.
“I fucking lied,” I simply shrug, and he turns his eyes up. He’s angry—oh, Lester is a very angry boy right now—but there’s nothing he can do about it. Unless he really wants to kick his ass in such a way that he’ll have to be dragged out of the house in a stretcher. Don’t get me wrong, he deserves all that and so much more, but I’m not a fucking savage. There’s nothing to gain from beating his ass, and my real purpose here is shutting him down for good.
“What do you want?” he cries out again, wiping his bloody face with the back of his hand. I’m almost tempted to punch him again, but somehow I restrain myself.
“What I want? See that young lady there?” I point toward Mistress Strokes, and Lester’s eyes go straight to her. He narrows his eyes into slits, and I don’t think I have ever seen someone so filled with hate. Strokes has been ruining his plans for months, and Lester tried like a mad man to put an end to it. He just didn’t count on me backing Strokes.