Mr. President 1(177)
He hangs the belt on the chair and, placing both his hands on my shoulders, pushes the straps of my dress down my arms. The fabric hangs limply over my tits, revealing the outer edge of my bra, and he lets go of it. He’s going for a slow boil, and I can already feel the atmosphere in the whole bar changing. What’s happening here? I can almost hear the dozens of women looking at us wondering. They’re confused and horny, and completely unable of taking their eyes off of Austin and I. They’re in a trance, and we are the pendulum drawing them into dreamland.
“What are you doing, Austin?” I ask him, my words drowned out by the loud bass coming from the speakers. Still, he hears me and leans into me, a whisper in his lips.
“Just wait and see,” he says, “I’m going to show you what Python is all about.” That makes my heart tighten up inside my chest; what is Python all about, after all? It’s not really a bar, and it’s not really a strip club. The place where dreams come true, one of the signs over the entrance reads, but what does that even mean? Sure, I like hot guys as much as the next woman, but what is all this conversation about dreams?
He walks around the chair once more and, now facing me, he grabs me by the hand and pulls me up to my feet. Then, before I can react, he grabs me by the hips and places one forearm across my lower back, forcing me to bend over; my hands go straight for the chair and I support myself there. I don’t even move as I see him reaching for the belt; I just grow wet, my juices soaking my thong and starting to drip down my thighs.
He places the tip of his fingers on the back of my knee, and slides them up until he’s touching the hemline of my dress. Then he lifts it up quickly, throwing it over my waist and baring my ass cheeks. Oh, God, I can already see where this is going.
Folding the belt again, he runs the leather over my ass cheeks and my crack, and then he takes it off of me. I close my eyes, bracing myself for the impact, but it doesn’t come. Only when I relax my body and open my eyes to see what’s happen, do I hear the whistle of the belt cutting through the air, and then I can’t stop myself from moaning as the leather lands dryly against my bare ass cheeks. I’m grabbing the chair so harshly that my knuckles are turning white. Then, I hear that whistle in the air again and clench my ass.#p#分页标题#e#
“Fuck,” I moan loudly, my voice quivering and blending with the dry sound of the leather smacking my ass. Austin isn’t holding back, even though he isn’t really smacking me with all his strength, he’s not being gentle about it either. And, God, I just love it. There’s something about bringing a little bit of pain inside the bedroom, or, well, the stage. I know that not all women enjoy it, but I've always loved to roughen things up a bit. “Harder,” I tell Austin, looking back at him with a devilish grin on my lips.
“Harder it is,” he grins back at me, lifting his arm and then lowering it, the belt firmly clenched by his closed fist. I face forward and grit my teeth, a violent shiver going up my spine as I feel the pain of impact. By now, my ass should be covered in strips of burning red, and I get even wetter as I realize that every single woman inside Python would trade places with me in a heartbeat, and all just for a chance to be closer to Austin.
I cry out loud as pain stings me again, but this time he isn’t using the belt to smack me; no, he’s using his open hand. He smacks me again and again, the rhythm of it keeping up with the steady beat of the music. I’m moaning like crazy, my voice quivering as I feel my nipples screaming to be set free from my bra, my pussy desperate to get rid of the thong.
“Stand up,” Austin whispers, and my body obeys. I stand up and turn on my heels to face him; with a smile, he throws the belt onto the floor and then, placing both his hands on my shoulders, pushes me back. I sit down on the chair as the music kicks into high gear, and Austin places both his hands on my knees and forces me to spread my legs. Standing up, he lifts his right leg and places his shoe right between my legs. I move as if I’m in trance, reaching for his shoe and untying it. I take it off, and then he switches legs and places his left foot between my legs. I do the same, untying his shoe and taking it off, and it seems that with every piece of clothing that comes out of Austin’s body the crowd goes crazier and crazier.
Taking the lead, I reach for his waist, allowing my fingers to slide down to his crotch, and I flatten the palm of my hand against his hard on. His thick shaft is already pushing against the fabric of his pants and against my fingers, and so I do the next logical thing: I pull his zipper down. The moment I do it, his hard cock pushes even more fiercely against his boxer briefs and I have to take a deep breath to stop myself from pulling both his pants and underwear down to his ankles. We’re on stage, right? So let’s put on a show for all these women.