Gambling For The Virgin:A Dark Billionaire Romance(53)

What else can I fucking do? Leave the States after meeting a fucking  woman like Jocelyn? Sure, it doesn't look like our situation is going to  fucking improve much more, but still …  I just can't move on as if she  didn't exist. I can't be that fucking stupid.

"You're staying ..." she whispers, bucking her hips with such  viciousness that I can't help but groan. "Here..." she continues,  getting the words out despite her hard breathing. "With me!"

With that, she explodes again, her pussy spasming and massaging my shaft  as she digs her fingernails into my chest. Breathing heavily while her  body convulses, she claws at my chest, her fingernails leaving red marks  across my pectorals. I keep thrusting while she comes, feeling my own  body close to the breaking point.

Two hard thrusts and I'm almost ready to join her, my cock spasming  harshly against her inner walls. In a heartbeat, I'm gushing a torrent  of cum inside of her, each spasm of my member sending electric waves of  pleasure up my spine, every single muscle in my body tensing up to the  point of ripping apart. It's almost unbearable.

"Fuck … " I mutter through my gritted teeth, fireworks going off behind my  eyelids. I keep cumming for what seems like forever, thick strands of  semen dripping from her pussy and onto my shaft.

Sighing, she waits for my cock's spasms to subside, and she finally  climbs down from my body. But instead of simply rolling to the side, she  goes on her knees and leans forward, her parted lips meeting my now  sensitive glans. She takes it in her mouth and sucks hungrily, moving  her lips down my shaft and cleaning it dry. As she goes back, my cock  pops out of her mouth; she grabs it gently, tilts her head sideways and  starts licking the whole length of my shaft before finally scooping up  all the cum that pooled at the base.

I lay back as she licks me dry, still trying to catch my fucking breath.  I say nothing; fuck, I can't even think straight right now, pleasure  still coating my mind. Jocelyne goes to my side as she finishes, one arm  across my chest as she inches closer to me. I turn to her, and she  loses no fucking time; she presses her mouth against mine, the salty  flavor of my semen hitting me immediately.         

     



 

We kiss as if there was nothing else in the whole fucking universe but  us, the cum in her mouth dripping into mine as our tongues wrestle  against one another. When she pulls back, there are a few drops of cum  on my chin, making their way down my jawline; smiling, she scoops them  up with the tip of her tongue.

"I'm not the only one in need of some cleaning up," I whisper, my heart  still beating like a motherfucker. My hands on her waist, I turn her  around and pull her into me; she doesn't take long to realize what I  intend to do, and climbs on top of me, easing herself down on my mouth.  Swaying her hips, she rubs her drenched pussy against my lips, cum  dripping down from her folds and into my open mouth. I open it as wide  as I can, feeling my warm semen sliding from inside of her and down to  my tongue.

We remain like that until her pussy is dry, my mouth brimming with cum.  Only then does she roll to the side, looking at me with anxious eyes. I  know what she fucking wants, and so I just go ahead and fucking do it. I  swallow, the saltiness of my load fucking clawing at my throat on the  way down. Fucking Jocelyn …  This woman drives me fucking insane, that's a  fact. Every time I'm with her is like fucking Christmas.

Throwing herself back on top of the mattress, she presses her body  against mine. We say nothing for a long fucking while, simply staring at  the ceiling as we hear our own ragged breathing, exhaustion lacing our  bodies.

Then, hesitant, I feel her reaching for my hand. She grabs it, gently  squeezing my fingers, and I squeeze back. We remain in silence, the long  shadows in the room tumbling over our bodies as if they were trying to  caress our naked skin. I've never been what I'd call a romantic, but  this …  This right here, this is fucking perfection. Forget everything you  have ever heard about poetry, music or paintings; the only art form  that can explain love is good old hard fucking. Trust me.

"You're right … " I finally manage to say, the words coming out of my  mouth as if I wanted to say them all along. "There's no way I'm leaving.  No fucking way." She responds by squeezing my hand harder and I smile  absently, knowing that for once I did the right fucking thing. "I can't  be away from you."

"Neither can I," she says, whatever there is between us suddenly becoming very fucking real.





43





New York Daily Journal





From the Desk of Amanda Adams, the Professional Gossiper of Page Two.



Welcome to Page Two Gossip, here's what we're hearing around the halls of power:



That's right, New Yorker, the people have spoken and apparently you can't get enough of Lance and Jocelyn Anders.

At least that's what internal tracking polls have shown within the  Anders For Mayor campaign. Sources inside the campaign are confirming  for me what the majority of us think when we're alone and watching the  television: Hizzoner's bad boy son is hot. And his new wife of less than  a year isn't too bad either. In fact, the photogenic family is one of  the major reasons that Mayor Anders is retaining a slim 5-point margin  of victory in most head-to-head matches against his mayoral rival, Jim  Jenkins.

That's right. Bad boy Lance better get a car for Christmas, because his  good looks and hot body, on display at his father's side throughout the  campaign are attracting New York City voters and propping up his dad's  campaign. His stepmom, Jocelyn, is doing her own good among male voters  as well.

When asked in a Fordham University poll who the sexiest person out of  both the candidates and their families were, New Yorkers had no  divisions among them. 89% agreed that Lance Anders was the sexiest man  involved in the mayoral election. An even greater 94% of respondents  agreed that Jocelyn Anders was the sexiest woman involved in the race.

49% of New Yorkers even admitted that the reason they showed up to  events or tuned in to the news was to catch a glimpse of Lance or  Jocelyn Anders.

In fact, my spies inside the Anders campaign tell me with numbers like  this, they're a bit concerned how much people must dislike Hizzoner for  the margin of advantage to only be 5% over Jim Jenkins.

We've always known that Lance was a bit of a handful. As the prodigal  son of the mayor, his biological mother died when he was only 10 years  old, and his stepfather has raised him. Over the last several years, the  two have been estranged according to family sources, but they've seemed  to put whatever issues aside for the election as son has been next to  father every step of the way. In college, sources tell us Lance lived up  to his bad boy credentials, partying and living it up in a big way  while also excelling at his studies and playing varsity football for  Yale. After college, he went to work at the White House as an intern,  but you'll remember he was caught having sex with the First Daughter and  almost started World War III, leading to his dismissal.

Jocelyn, on the other hand, comes from the politically connected Carter  clan. Her brother is planning on running for Governor of New York State  in two years time. The marriage between Jocelyn and Michael was  certainly a whirlwind, and the two tied the knot in a private ceremony  in Westchester. While they've been seen in public together, a few close  to the family hint that there may be troubles beneath the surface  between Hizzoner and his wife. But nothing that we've found out enough  to confirm and print.

But whatever the case, we know we'll all be watching Lance and Jocelyn  as they stand behind Michael. Will that be enough to lead us to vote for  Michael? Only time will tell.

That's all for today, but we're digging up as much as we can about this  election. Till we hear more, this is Amanda Adams signing off. Keep your  ears open, New York.





44





Jocelyn





Four.

That's how many months ago Lance Anders set foot into Michael's Upper  East Side townhouse. How many months since I opened that door and set my  sex-starved eyes on that gorgeous body of his. That's roughly the  number of months since I tried walking into his room when he was in the  shower. Since I almost gave up on the sofa after he rescued me in the  Park. Since my birthday. Since I saw him at the gym and went over to  touch his shoulder. Then invited him to my dressing room at Saks. Four  months since he first put his giant cock inside of me and shot me into  orbit. It's like I haven't come down since.

Zero.

That's how many times Michael has asked and wondered why Lance is still  here even though the election is just shy of a month away. Lance was  supposed to only stay the summer. But Michael doesn't care about  anything except staying as Mayor. Who knows what he has planned after  that, he doesn't tell me.

Zero is also the number of times that Michael has tried touching me. He  just doesn't care about me. I know I'm beating a dead horse and you get  it-Michael may not be into me. Michael may be gay. You're aware. But  listen to me, hun, because this is important to me. I need you to  understand this. I'm not the kind of girl who goes around cheating on  her husband. I'm not some slut who sleeps with her stepson because there  was nothing good on television during the day. If Michael hadn't been  cheating on me, and it's pretty obvious nowadays when he walks in, or if  he hadn't forced my father to give me up for marriage, or even with all  that, if he had shown me even the slightest bit of affection I would  have never looked at Lance as hungrily as I do now.