Mr. President:A Billionaire & Virgin Fake Fiance Romance(126)

I don't know if I'm the one who takes the step closer or if it's him, but all of a sudden I can feel my body pressed into his.

It feels so right, feeling my breasts press up against his chest.  Feeling his arms encircle me. Once having made contact, I want more. I  can feel myself pressing against him as I continue to look up at him.

"Why did you do all this, Lance?" I ask him, the thought going through  my head that this is some elaborate prank for some reason. I don't know  why I'm thinking it, hun. "Why the whole fancy setup?"

"Why the fuck not?" Lance growls down at me, looking at me with  smoldering eyes as we start to sway to the gentle music in the  background. "It's your birthday, Jocelyn."

"I'm your stepmom," I say back to him.

I don't know why, okay? I don't know why I feel awkward around him, when  he's done something so sweet as put together this surprise for my  birthday.

Fine, fine, you got me, it's not awkwardness I'm feeling. It's  nervousness. I've seen his giant cock. And I want it inside of me.

But standing here close to him, as he holds me, I'm starting to feel something different too.

What is it?

"No, you're not," Lance replies back. He's calm. He's collected. "Tonight you're just a woman, Jocelyn. And I'm just a man."

What exactly does that mean?

Are we just a man and woman who are friends? Relatives? Lovers?

God, I can't believe I had his cock in my hands. Through his jeans, but still.

Why can't I just close my eyes and enjoy the moment? Why am I trapped in  his stare, looking up at him and only vaguely aware of the world around  me?

"I'm so much older than you, Lance," I whisper. "And I'm really sorry  about the other day. We can't let something so crazy ever happen again."

It's true! Can you believe the scandal involved with something like that?

He brings his face closer to me. "Don't be fucking sorry," he hisses. "I can't get it out of my head."

What? He can't get me out of his head?

"That's sweet," I say to him, my panties melting as I think back to  being on his lap, legs wrapped around him, looking at his cock. I can  tell I'm more than wet at this point. If Lance wanted to take me, I  don't think I would stop him.

No, I most definitely wouldn't stop him. I'd spread my legs and let him  pull my thong down. Then I'd wrap my legs around him as he put that  giant cock inside of me. His eyes would go wide at what I'd do and say.  I'd be the last thing from boring to him.

"What are you thinking?" Lance asks me, a smirk playing across his face.

"It's a secret," I say with a coy smile.

"I think I can guess," he tells me. I squirm my body against him a bit  more. His cock is hard and it's rubbing against my inner thigh. It feels  so good.

"What, then?" I ask, hoping beyond all hope that he's in my head. "Don't keep a lady waiting."

"You're no lady," he says with a grin and as I give him a mock pout, I  see that he truly is in my head. Because he leans over and brings his  mouth to mine.

And we kiss.





100





Lance





Holy fucking shit. What the fuck is going on?

I can't believe this. My tongue is literally opening up Jocelyn's lips.  Far from being the invader, her tongue lashes out and it's wrestling  mine in my mouth now. I feel her tongue massage mine. I reciprocate.

This is so much fucking hotter somehow than the other day. This feels more intimate. More real.

This feels more like love than lust.

I don't even realize but my hands are pulling her closer. They're squeezing her ass. Running up and down her back.

She's grinding her crotch over my cock.

And yet, we still continue to kiss.

I'm not gonna lie. It was fucking awkward after the other day. After Rosa inadvertently interrupted us on the sofa.

I mean, give me a fucking break. She only had my cock in her hands,  jerking it off. There was only one way that situation was going to go.  With me exploding with thick, white ropes of gooey cum all over her.

We both knew that's where it was headed. I saw it in her eyes. They were  filled with desire. Her entire face was contorted with lust that  afternoon. She just didn't give a fuck how old she was, how fucking  young I was, who we were, or where we were at. She just wanted my cock.  And I wanted her entire fucking body.

But the real world came and intruded on us. We had to call it off.

The last few days I haven't seen her around as much. But holy shit, when  I discovered today was her fucking birthday, I knew that I had to get  past any sort of awkwardness that we had with each other.

Fuck, it didn't seem like this morning that anyone else was going to  celebrate her birthday with her. Dad probably doesn't even know. Or if  he does, he just wants to actively show he forgot to bring out the  sentiment that he doesn't fucking care. Because he's a sociopath.

So that left me. I had the day, and the townhouse staff to help me whip something up.

And now, because of it, she's holding onto my arms and kissing me passionately.

I'm fucking rubbing her back and running my fingers through her hair.  I'm hard. Painfully fucking hard. As in my cock is going to break if we  keep this up.

Are we headed to sex again?

But it's different this time. Last time we were in a similar spot, we weren't kissing. That was just pure lust.

This time, there's something different.

I feel her tongue trace the outline of the roof of my mouth and then  come back down and gently massage my tongue. I return the favor.         

     



 

This time, we are kissing. This time it's gentler. As if we're falling for each other.

Shit. That's even worse.

And then, as is our fate, I hear the front door slam open.

"I don't care if the fucking Teacher's union     doesn't like the changes  we're proposing, tell them after the election the fucking voters forget  about everything anyways," dad's loud voice comes through. He's either  talking to an aide or into his phone.

A light goes on in the hallway.

Jocelyn pulls back immediately. So do I.

We disentangle ourselves from each other. Her chest is heaving from holding her breath in this long. I'm looking at her.

"I don't give two shits about the MTA funding right now," dad says. He's definitely talking into his phone.

I see Jocelyn turn her head as the footsteps come toward the living  room. She doesn't bother looking at me, but rather collects herself and  briskly walks out of the opposite exit to the living room. She wants to  avoid dad.

She's gone not a second before he comes into the room. He sees me standing next to a table filled with food and champagne.

"What are you doing here?" he asks me.

I didn't really plan this excuse out, but it just comes naturally to me. "Today's Jocelyn's birthday," I tell him.

He stares at me blankly for a second. I hope he's not trying to figure out which Jocelyn I'm talking about.

"So?" he finally asks. "That's what all the food and champagne is for?"

"Want to join us?" I ask him darkly.

What a fucking horrible motherfucker. I mean, sure, I was just kissing  her a few minutes ago so maybe I'm not saint, but I didn't go about  marrying her, and if what she says is correct, never fucking touch her  in the whole time I've known her.

No wonder Jocelyn is crushing all over me. For the first time in a long  ass fucking time, someone is showing real, genuine, affection for her.  Someone is showing desire for her.

"I think joining you would be a waste of my time," dad says, turning  around after hanging his top coat in the closet. "I have plenty of  better things I could be doing with my time."

"Dad," I paused and watched him as he froze at hearing me call out to  him. "At least go upstairs and wish her a happy birthday then."

Dad seemed to consider, but then shrugged his shoulder. "If that's all  it takes for her to feel better, then I'll leave that to you, son," he  tells me. "No one is better than you in winning people over."

"Jesus fucking Christ," I say. "She's your goddamn wife."

"She's a political prop," he says to me. "And don't you dare talk to me like all of a sudden you're my son."

I'm silent. Seething.

"You're nothing more than an orphan that I bought with my credibility.  You're more like a window dressing for me. Never forget that," he says  to me, looking me in the eyes, telling me he's deadly serious.

He turns, having gotten the last word.

And with that, he's gone.





101





Lance





I curl my arms in another set of bicep exercises and watch my movements  in the mirror. I look good. I don't fucking care how vain you think I  am. I'll admit it. It's no wonder I've banged nearly every type of woman  there is-co-eds, professors, housewives, and even the President's  daughter, which I now sort of regret.

Besides, after the last two days since Jocelyn's birthday, I need to clear my head.

We've been fucking too close to the fucking fire. Twice. The first time,  I could understand. Her fight or flight response was kicking in and she  was going through adrenaline after her close call. I was there.

The second time, on her birthday. That was a fucking different animal. We kissed. And held each other fucking close.