Mr. President:A Billionaire & Virgin Fake Fiance Romance(132)

And it seems like just two seconds later my eyes are opening up again, looking around. It's fucking morning. Already.

I yawn, and notice that my cock is still hard.

What the fuck is going on? I know it's probably morning wood, but I'm  really hoping that my dick took a break between when I sort of passed  out and this morning. I'm hoping it took a breather, and got some sleep  before rising to attention for me this morning. Because last night, I  hit the epiphany.

I need to just fuck this thing I have for Jocelyn out. I need to find a  girl. Any fucking girl. And I need to fuck the living shit out of her.

It'll lead to a much happier family life.

Believe it or not, this actually brings a smile to my face. I'm going to  give the cock a good workout, and it's not going to involve my dad's  wife. And then I'll be good to go. Not distracted at every turn by  Jocelyn Anders. Hell, if dad asks me to campaign, which I'm pretty sure  he will, I'm going to need to fuck whatever girl I find to make sure I  have a clear head during the day.

I finally have a plan. Yesterday … .that was just hormones taking over. I'm the master of my fucking domain.

I put on a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt and head downstairs.

It's still early enough that dad and Jocelyn will probably still be having breakfast.

I walk down the hallway to the kitchen and breakfast nook of the townhouse and I hear voices coming from there.

I step in. Dad's reading the newspaper and a series of whatever on his iPad. He's not really paying any attention to Jocelyn.

He's a fucking fool. Because she's sitting there in a pair of black yoga  pants that barely come up to her waist. And a black sports bra.  Literally, that's all she's wearing. She's having a cup of coffee and I  look at her bare midriff and her flat tummy and curvy fucking ass. Her  tits are gorgeous and my cock, which was getting ready to take a break,  is back at being rock hard again.

Fuck.

"Oh, you're up," dad says to me as he notices me standing there. "Since  you don't work anymore, I'm going to need your help on my campaign  managing social media," he says.

I stand there watching him.

"We'll talk about it later. Right now, I need to take a conference  call," dad says getting up and walking toward the opposite end of the  kitchen, past the large island and refrigerator and stove. It's like one  of those cavernous kitchens with two entrances, usable by a large staff  if needed to entertain. "Once I get done with my call, we'll talk,  Lance," dad says as he steps out.

Leaving me with his gorgeous wife who's barely wearing anything.

Fuck. What was that promise I made yesterday?





104





Jocelyn





This is insane. I'm insane. Lance is insane. We're all going to Hell.

How the hell was I even thinking I would get away with this?

And what is wrong with me? Putting something like this on? After what I did with him yesterday?

I cheated on my husband. I've broken the sacred vows of marriage. I bet  that's what you're thinking when I talk to you now, isn't it?

I know you probably hate cheating. I do too. I have a subscription to  Kindle Unlimited and I'll stop reading right there if my story has  cheating in it.

At least two days ago, that's what I would have told you. Because after  six months, I forgot what sex tasted like. What it felt like. I forgot  what it felt like to have a man want me. And if that man was as gorgeous  and hot as Lance, well I would have never comprehended that something  could happen like that to me.

Even if we left a bit awkwardly, all day I couldn't stop thinking about Lance yesterday after what happened at Saks.

I woke up this morning and my pussy was wet from dreams I'd been having.  I can still remember them. They're burned into my brain. How I'm in  something cute, like a lacey white bra and panty set, but I'm giving  Lance a blowjob.

That's right. I dreamt of giving my stepson a blowjob. Go ahead. Judge  me, ladies. Tell me I'm nasty. I'm perverted. That I'm rocking the  cradle. That he's only 21 and I'm taking advantage of him at 36. That  just makes me wetter when you tell me I'm not supposed to do that, okay?  It makes the thoughts that I'm having in my head of turning toward  Lance and spreading my legs for him to enjoy the body feel even more  delicious and taboo.

Fine. I know. I'm sick. I'm twisted. Maybe I could even go to jail, who  knows. Although, he's not really even my stepson. He's Michael's  stepson-not related to Michael at all. But just the fact that he looked  at me as he was fucking me and said, "Don't tell dad what we're doing,"  has gotten me all wet again. I can tell my cheeks are turning red.

He's looking at me. Michael's not here. It's just me and Lance in the kitchen.

I hear Michael press the speakerphone on his phone in the office. The  dial tone comes on. I hear numbers being pressed and then the voice of a  man. Michael's on a conference call.

He doesn't even think to shut the door. Sure he's down the hall but he  has the volume on so loud I can hear all the way in the kitchen.

He never even considers me.

Lance is eyeing my body. I can tell. The way men used to eye me wolfishly before Michael married me.

I need to stop this. I need to stop him. Technically, we're family.

I get up from my chair and turn around. I start to walk to the counter,  feeling his eyes on me. The last thing I saw before I turned around was  the bulge in his basketball shorts. He was tenting. That foot long cock.

Oh God, did I just wiggle my ass for him? Did I just shake it for him? Do I still want him?

What am I doing, hun? Why am I acting like this?

There are millions of women who haven't had sex in six months, right?  Marriage is about more than sex, right? Michael's never so much as  kissed me on the lips. In public, it's always a pretend peck on the  cheek. He's never touched me. I'm pretty confident he blackmailed my  father into forcing me to accept his marriage proposal.

But sure, that was wrong. But does it excuse my cheating on him?

No. I need to stop this. I'm at the kitchen's island. I put the coffee  mug down and close my eyes. I hear Michael speaking from his office.

I bend over the counter, jutting my ass out. Toward Lance. I know he's still there. I know he's looking at my ass.

Yes, okay, I know. Shake your head at me, dear. Tell me I'm a slut, if you want. I honestly am so confused.

I'm swaying my ass in front of a young man's cock and telling you I don't want to cheat.

Maybe I need to just go somewhere else?

That's when I feel his hands on my arms. I feel those strong hands first.

Then I feel his rock hard cock against my ass crack. The yoga pants are  thin and I gasp as I feel his monster dick running over my ass. I want  to whimper in delight.

"Lance, we can't do this," I say with noticeable shudders. I want it so fucking bad. "I can't cheat on your father."         

     



 

Just thinking about what I said as Lance runs his cock up and down my  ass is enough to get me close to cumming. What is it about this guy? I'm  not usually into younger guys. I like older men, D/s type stuff. This  is just so insane.

"I know Jocelyn," Lance says in a deep voice and I feel his abs and  chest against my back. His body is pressing up against me. He's  shirtless and I feel where his abs are rubbing against my bare back. Oh  God. I close my eyes.

"I can't cheat," I say.

"Do you love him?" Lance asks.

I don't answer. I can't tell Lance the truth. That I didn't even know  Michael six months ago. That I haven't learned anything about him since.

"Does he get you fucking wet, like I do?" Lance asks me. I'm thinking  about that question when I feel his hands leave my arms and wrap  themselves around me.

I need to put a stop to this. I need to …

His right hand travels to the waistband of my yoga pants and not even  hesitating, dives in. I gasp as I feel his fingers go underneath my  thong. Two fingers press down to the entrance of my pussy. Rubbing me  delicately. Back and forth.

"Fuck, Jocelyn," Lance says into my ear. "Does dad do this?"

Michael has never done anything like that to me in our entire marriage.

"I didn't think so," Lance says. "He's not someone who likes pussy."

My eyes are half closed. My head lolls back into his. He leans over and kisses my neck right above my shoulders.

"You don't … know that," I manage to say. My breathing is coming in  shorter gasps now as I feel Lance and his finger gently rubbing the hood  of my clit, pressing down on it. He's going to make me cum.

"I do," Lance says back strongly. "Because I think my stepdad is gay."

Wait.

What?

What the hell did Lance just say?

"That's right," Lance says softly into my ear, rubbing his tongue  against it. His cock is grinding against my ass. His tongue is tracing  outlines in my ear. His fingers are flicking my clit. And his voice is  permeating my brain. It's a wonder I'm still standing.

Am I just hearing what I want to hear?

"My dad is most likely gay, Jocelyn," Lance says softly. "He doesn't  love you. And I'm willing to bet he's never fucked you. In fact, he  would be fucking disgusted if you tried."

All those times I've tried to seduce Michael. All those times he looked like he could care less.