Mr. President 1(17)

Just as the limo pulls up to Marcel's, I turn to Ashley and ask, "Why are you so cynical?"

But just then, the door opens and we are ushered out of the car, greeted by a mob of photographers. Flashbulbs are going off in every direction, and it's disorienting.

Realizing that we are now under extreme scrutiny, I turn to Ashley and give her a kiss.

She kisses me back, and then whispers in my ear, "This is why I'm so cynical."

Instead of responding, I smile because no matter what, I intend to make her a believer. One way or another.

Over dinner, we discuss everything, from the state of the country, to my campaign, and even why I want to be president. We leave no stone unturned. And despite myself, I find that I'm opening up to Ashley, just a little bit.

I wouldn't say that I trust her completely—but it's apparent that we see eye-to-eye on a lot of things.

"And what about your business?" I ask.

At first she seems uncomfortable that the conversation has shifted to her. Then she says, "I'm only exposing people for who they really are. You can think of it as my much smaller way of 'clearing the cave.'"

I smile at the reference, and I feel my respect for Ashley grow. She seems to be opening up a little more as well.

And while I'm getting to know Ashley Draper, I can't help but notice how stunning she looks. Her gold, diamond earrings keep catching the light of the restaurant, and glittering like stars, just out of reach.

I can't take my eyes off of that dark, cavernous trail of her cleavage, or the curves of her ass peaking out from under her dress.

It's also clear that my cock wants her just as badly as I do.

Looking at Ashley in that gorgeous and tight dress is making my cock stick out like a 12-inch lead pipe. People are gonna notice this Presidential boner.

I need to not be in the public eye. That means less talking to you.

Time to change the point of view.





11





Ashley





So, I’m actually having a good time.

Despite what I initially thought of Austin, he isn’t half as bad as I thought he’d be. He’s fun, charming, and engaging … and surprisingly, he also seems sincere. He really does seem to want the best for the country.

Also, him trying to hide his erection was the cutest thing.

Yes, I saw it. Sort of flattered too.

Wouldn’t you be if some guy got hard for you and you still had all your clothes on?

I know what you’re thinking—I’m being fooled by a master manipulator. That’s a fair point, actually. I know how to spot these types from far away, but I just don’t see it in Austin … and that’s what’s really dangerous. I mean, he’s the President of the United States, and you don’t get to be the Commander in Chief without being a ruthless political operator. I have to be extra careful around Austin, there’s no doubt about it; I don’t want to fall for a person who doesn’t really exist.

Right now he’s driving me home, which means we’re riding around DC in the Presidential Car. Aptly nicknamed The Beast, the car is more of a tank than a limo. In front of us (as well as behind) follow a few dozen SUVs, part of the presidential motorcade. I shudder to think how much money the taxpayers are paying just because Austin and I decided to have dinner.

Of course, I should also mention that my apartment building now has a permanent security staff, headed by the Secret Service itself. Although I’m not the First Lady, the White House decided to place me under strict security measures, which really, I don’t mind, although it’s a bit annoying, it beats being beheaded by some jihadist asshole.#p#分页标题#e#

“Why don’t you spend the night at the White House?” Austin says, turning to the side so that he’s looking straight into my eyes. There’s a playful grin on his face, and I know that he’s toying with me. The press would have a field day if, just one day after revealing his fiancée to the public, Austin took her to the White House.

“Are you that desperate, Austin?” I tease him, offering him a grin of my own. “I am just your fake fiancée … you better not forget about the fake part.”

“I’m not forgetting anything,” he replies without giving it a second thought. “I just don’t see what that has to do with anything. Fun is fun.”

“Fun is fun… Is that what you were thinking at the Sofitel Hotel? I bet the South Korean ambassador loved that line.”

“As a matter of fact, she did,” he continues, turning around on his seat, a fire growing behind his eyes.

“Good thing I’m not an ambassador then,” I chuckle, looking out the window and avoiding his gaze. God, if I keep looking into his eyes, I truly don’t know what I might be capable of. I told you before, I might not trust him to be completely genuine, but his cut body and handsome smile… Now that’s something I know is pretty genuine … and dangerous too.