Mr. President 1(18)

More than that, Austin knows how to use that tongue of his. He’s charming and seductive, and he knows exactly what to say and what to do in order to drive a woman completely insane… I wonder just exactly what other things he can do with his tongue.

I try to distract myself, watching the wide DC avenues roll by us, but it’s almost impossible. My heart is drumming loudly against my chest, and there’s a whirlwind of wicked thoughts dancing inside my head. And, to top all that, my pussy is as wet as it has ever been. I can already feel my drenched thong sticking to my skin; it’s so uncomfortable that I wouldn’t mind just taking it off…

What did Austin say? Fun is fun, right? Well, let’s have some fun then. I don’t want to be the only one going home horny and frustrated. Let him taste his own poison.

“Tell me, Austin,” I start, turning around to meet his gaze once more, “I’m curious. How are you going to survive one year without women…? Without sex?”

“Maybe I don’t have to go one year without sex. You only said I couldn’t be with other women, after all…” he replies, his eyes roaming up and down my body, and I can tell that he has already started to undress me mentally.

“I did. I guess you found that loophole quickly enough,” I chuckle, placing my hand on his knee as I do it. I take it off as quickly as I’ve touched him, but it’s enough to make a hard shape start to grow between his legs. Shamelessly, I let my eyes fall down to the bulging shape already tenting his pants.

“Like what you see?” he asks me with a cocky smile, not even bothering to hide his hard-on. His cock seems to be massive, bigger than any other cock I’ve ever seen, and my knee-jerk response is to tell him that yes, I love what I’m seeing.

“It takes more than that to impress me,” I whisper with a shrug, narrowing my eyes seductively. “More than size, it takes skill.”

“Well, you can’t criticize without trying it…” he whispers back at me, and I notice that his cock has grown even bigger with the prospect of some real action. And, thing is, the same has happened with my pussy; I’m so wet right now that my fluids are starting to drip down my inner thighs. If I’m not careful, soon enough there’s going to be a wet patch on my dress.
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Usually I’m always in control of the situation, but with Austin … there’s something about him (or, rather, there are a lot of things about him) that just make me feel completely out of control. And that’s a feeling I’m not very familiar with. Call me a control-freak if you want to, but I’m always at a loss whenever I feel control slipping from my fingers. Except, right now, I don’t feel at a loss; instead, I feel ecstatic.

“Fun is fun, right?” I ask him, laying one hand on his knee and then allowing my fingers to make the hike up to his crotch.

“Fun is fun,” he repeats after me, his grin widening as I rest the palm of my hand over his hard cock.

Well, let’s have some fun then.





12





Ashley





The moment I rest my hand over Austin’s crotch and curl my fingers around his cock, it’s as if something snaps in his mind.

He closes the distance between both of our bodies and places one hand on the nape of my neck; tangling his fingers in my hair, he looks me straight in the eyes and smiles. Not a grin, but a smile. Then he leans into me slowly, and I find my eyelids drooping by instinct. Our lips make contact a heartbeat later and, right then, I know that I made the right choice by surrendering to the lust fluttering inside of me.

Parting my lips, I slide my tongue inside his mouth and flick it against his, kissing him with a passion so fierce and violent that it makes me afraid. He holds my head as we kiss, his fingers turned into claws as he grabs me by the hair.

“Delicious … just like I thought,” he whispers as he pulls back from me, that sweet smile of his still dancing on his lips. “I’ve been dying to taste your lips.”

“What else have you been dying to taste?” I ask him, deviousness making my heart race faster. Still with my fingers on his cock, I flatten the palm of my hand against his pulsing member and apply some pressure there, enjoying the way an expression of pleasure washes over his face.

“I can ask the same thing, you know?” he shoots right back at me, placing one hand on my naked knee and sliding it up until his fingertips are brushing against the hemline of my dress. Reacting by instinct, I part my legs slightly, and he doesn’t hesitate; he runs his fingers up my leg, only stopping when he has them brushing against my inner thigh.