Mr. President:A Billionaire & Virgin Fake Fiance Romance(34)

She can try to scare me off by saying she comes with a high price tag.

But none of that f*cking matters to me.

Because I've already fallen for that curvy body of hers. For that  beautiful face and soft lips. And I'll pay anything to ravish her. Even  if it means agreeing to pay the ultimate price … my heart.

Client 5 is a full-length standalone romance with a guaranteed Happily Ever After, no cheating or cliffhangers.





33





Arsen





"Oh baby, I love sucking this huge cock of yours," Sophie says as she  runs her tongue up and down my shaft in the way that only a stripper  can. "It's getting me so fucking horny."

I can hear the steady beats of Lil' John playing through the club as I  look down through the glass at the main stage of the strip club. It's a  pretty crowded evening, and I idly wonder if some of the patrons-those  poor, lonely schmos with no place else to be-realize that the mirrors  they're looking up at are really one-sided and that I can look down from  them at any point. Including times like now, where I'm completely naked  getting my cock sucked by a blonde stripper as a brunette one rubs her  hands all over my body.

But just as soon as I wonder, the brunette-I think her name is  Heather?-starts twisting my nipples and I decide it's a stupid fucking  thing to wonder about and I should just concentrate on the task at hand.  That task being namely to fuck the living shit out of these two  strippers-new girls to the club, but definitely old hands at this game.  They know what's fucking what, that's for sure. The moment they started  at the club, I could tell they were fucking eyeing me. Deciding if it  was in their best interests to fuck me or not. Could they advance their  careers by boning the owner?

Let me take a moment to fucking introduce myself, since it's clear we  haven't met and you're just now popping into the picture as I have my  cock going in and out of one woman's mouth and my hands roaming the fake  tits of another.

My name is Arsen Hawke.

Yes, I know what you're saying to yourself right now.

That Arsen Hawke. Yes. The 30-year old son of the billionaire smut lord  of America. The son of the man the nation knows as the Corrupter.  Collectively, my fucking dad is responsible for putting out 83 Internet  live web cams, 23 Pay-Per-View channels, 3 magazines, and 5 different  streaming porn services through the Internet. All beamed directly into  your home for your little son or daughter to consume when you're not  looking  –  further destroying what little of the moral fiber is left of  Western democratic values.

That Arsen Hawke that you read about in the tabloids. The same one that  you see on E! Online. With the chiseled 8-pack abs, rugged face, icy  blue eyes, and tattoos designed by some of the most gifted artists of  our time. Fuck, I don't even know why I'm describing myself. You know  everything about me. You know that I'm good looking as fuck. That on the  off-chance that I decided to stop by your town or city, you would  probably tell your husband that you were going out so you could see me  signing autographs at the mall. Just catch a glimpse. Maybe you'd hope  to see me take off my shirt. Maybe you'd even get close enough to see my  ripped physique. Fuck, maybe I would make eye contact with you and flex  my pecs for you. Tell you to come closer so you could see my 1% body  fat body. You'd be pretty close then, maybe I'd even touch you. That's  when you'd go fucking crazy, because that's what I do to every girl  around me.

You'd try not to at first, but you wouldn't be able to help yourself  from looking at the bulge in my pants. That 12-inches of pussy pleasing  pistoning that you've read about. Fantasized about. You'd be so close to  touching it. Tasting it.

If I told you to get in the limo with me, you wouldn't even think about  anything else. Fuck life. Forget every fucking obligation you ever had.  All you'd want to do is get in for maybe the most illicit and exciting  moment you'd ever have with someone who is fucking larger than life.

Once inside and in private, I'd take your hands in mine and tell you  that this is temporary and it's nothing permanent. You'd agree. Anything  to have a taste of me. Anything for a feel. You'd nod your head, and  I'd take my pants off, showing you my thick, pulsing, veiny cock.

And fuck if you wouldn't go fucking crazy. Sure, I'd let you suck it  like these two strippers right now, who are both taking turns running  their tongues around the tip of my cock. But then, I'd turn you over on  all fours and I'd fuck the living shit out of you. I swear to fucking  God you would cum enough times that by the time I was done with you, you  would be nothing more than a quivering mess of flesh on the seat. Sex  coma? Talk about fucking sex amnesia.

And you would do anything for another taste of that cock. Anything I  fucking wanted you to do. That's why I'd want to get the fuck away as  soon as possible. But I would leave you with memories that would last a  lifetime as I flew off to my next destination. Maybe Singapore. Or,  maybe London. I hear it's nice this time of year.

So, yeah, that Arsen Hawke.

But there's so much fucking more that you don't know about me. What  about the fact that I haven't talked to my dad in 6 years, ever since my  mom died of cancer and got no help from him since he had already  divorced her. That I've been living on my own, at the age of 30 at One57  on Billionaire's Row in New York City. That despite my body and looks  and my fucking cock, I have a fucking brain. Harvard fucking MBA, baby.  But, no. You don't know that about me. And quite honestly, I'm not  surprised.

"Arsen, I want your cock inside of me, baby," Sophie moans in her most  slutty voice. I look down at her. She sees the look in my eyes and  smiles lusciously and takes Heather. The two trade a wet, sloppy kiss  for my benefit, and then turn away from me, facing the window  overlooking the club. They're both naked-fuck their strippers-what do  you expect? But what really blows my brain is when they both bend over,  jutting their asses out at me.

"Which one of us do you want to fuck first?" Heather asks, her eyes twinkling with this lust game that their playing for me.

I'm only fucking human, okay? I tear open the condom wrapper and sheath  myself as I grab Sophie's waist with both hands, and push my quivering  cock into her pussy. She's wet, I'll give her that. But not really that  tight. Fuck it, it'll get the job done.

Within seconds, I have a good, steady clip going, pistoning in and out  of Sophie's canal as she moans lewdly. To further stimulate me, Heather  starts licking and sucking Sophie's tits. I'm building up my tempo,  increasing my pace, and I can hear my balls slapping against the  underside of Sophie's ass in tune with the music.

"Fuck me, harder, Arsen!" Sophie screams and I oblige the slut, pounding  into her with enough force to topple someone over. It's a good thing  she has the window as leverage, steadying herself as I go mercilessly at  her cunt.

Another few seconds and I can tell I've gotten Sophie past the point of  no return. Three more strokes, two, one, and bingo. Her pussy clamps up  around my cock like a vice and I feel her entire body shudder.         

     



 

"Oh fuck!" Sophie screams and I can tell that her body is being wracked by an orgasm as her muscles clench and unclench.

"My turn," Heather says and uses her hands to play with my tennis-ball  sized balls as I slow down. Heather guides me out of Sophie and leans  her back on the window, lifting her leg and giving me easy access inside  of her. I slide in, slick with Sophie's juices and begin the process  again as she wraps her arms around me.

I feel Heather's tits against my chest. Sophie is still quivering and shaking next to me as the new song starts up.

And that's when I fucking see her.

The new dancer that gets on stage.

She's new. I know it. I've fucked so many of the fucking strippers in  this club, they should seriously give me some sort of award for not  catching any STDs. But then again, I always protect myself to the max.

But this girl. I've never seen her before.

Or have I? She seems so familiar, and she's so beautiful I feel like I know her.

She's got blonde hair that comes down to her shoulders. Fuck, her face  is so fucking gorgeous. With the sweetest most innocent eyes and the  most beautiful face. But so what if her face is sweet and innocent  looking; her body is fucking sinful. Tits that are perfectly shaped and  big. A perfectly tapered waist. Slender legs. An ass that's …

Fuck, I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum so fucking hard. I need to calm  the fuck down. I can usually go forever. What the fuck is wrong with  me?

"Baby, I just felt your balls tighten up," Heather says with a wicked grin. "It's okay, I know my pussy's tight."

Actually her pussy is the opposite of tight. I might as well be fucking a  plastic bag, but I somehow don't care at this point in time.

I've maybe only fucked Heather for five minutes now but I pull out, and toss off my condom as if in a daze.

It's because I am in a daze. I'm staring at that girl as she twirls around on the pole.