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Mr. President:A Billionaire & Virgin Fake Fiance Romance(78)

By:Alexis Angel


That's what's happening to Melissa, Josie, and Lisa. They started out  with a dare for Melissa. It was her birthday. Lisa came up with the dare  that Melissa should try and unzip me with her mouth. Well, it was a  little too successful. Before I knew it, that warm, sweet mouth was  engulfing my cock and I was sighing.

Oh yeah, Melissa was sucking my cock good. But she couldn't deep throat me all the way. It's alright. Not too many women can.

I mean, come on, you know what I'm packing. It's been in the papers.  It's been online. I've got a fucking 12-inch trouser snake swinging  between my legs. A foot of lust muscle to take you to fucking paradise.

That's how Lisa and Josie, after trading looks that basically said fuck it, decided to get in on the action.

I mean, how could you sit there and watch me get a blowjob and not get  fucking hot? My 12 inches of veiny, throbbing, cock standing upright  like the fucking Washington Monument. With the spit that the girls were  putting on it, it glistened under the lights of the club.

Yeah, how the fuck could you not get turned on by that?

But then again, they were hot the moment they came into this club. That  was the real thing. There was no way you could come into Python and not  get turned on.

Because you see, Python is a different sort of nightclub.

It's a different sort of world.

You probably think based on what you know about me that I'm some shady  guy with a ripped body and a big cock, I bet. That's from everything  you've heard about me.

But there's more.

Sure, I used to do porn. I did a lot of porn back in the day. All  male-female contemporary stuff. I posed on romance covers for my boy  Eddie Cleveland and Mona Cox. But I really got famous with Hawkelane  Media and their direct video chat sex lines. That's what really started  bringing in the money once Arsen Hawke got married and started to  modernize the company with his wife.

But did you know that before porn I went to fucking college?

That's right.

I graduated from Iowa State with a Bachelors in something I don't  fucking remember. I wasn't really feeling working for someone my whole  life. That's when my buddy got shot and almost died in Afghanistan. And  so I spent four years over in the Middle East, killing terrorists and  helping innocent people get out from under the yoke of fucking ISIS.

Came back and crashed with my buddy in New York for a couple of days. During that time we went to a party where Arsen met me.

Sized me up real good. We started doing shots of Jamo. Started fucking  talking. He was s sharp dude. Straight talker. No fucking bullshit.

Just like me.

Arsen told me if I worked hard, did my hustle right, that there was money in video sex chat.

I gave it a go. Worked my fucking ass off. Went from on demand sex chat to online streaming.

And boy was I fucking successful.

You probably remember my face on the cover of Time Magazine when I  became the highest paid male actor, and then the next year when I became  just hands down the highest paid person in porn, period.

Sure, I worked with Kane. But honestly, I got out of the business before  the whole virtual reality stuff. I was already worth about $760 million  dollars.

That's right.

I'm not some New York City billionaire who lives in One57.

No, I fucking live downtown, right next to the subway. Specifically, the  E train, which takes me to my club in Long Island City, Queens.

See, I used about $50 million to start this place last year, and I named it Python.

I'm going to give you one guess why.

"Oh, fucking cum for us Austin," Melissa moans as she jerks my shaft and plays with my balls.

Yeah, that's why. I named it for cocks.

Not just mine, though.

"Come on, big boy," Josie says, smiling lewdly at me and running her  tongue along my head. She's naked and her tits are glistening from where  Melissa was sucking them.

I'm looking at three beautiful faces looking up at my cock as they lick  it. As they stroke it and jerk it. Touch it and fucking taste it.

"Come over all of our faces, Austin," Lisa says, opening her mouth.

Fucking Christ.

I can't fucking take anymore.

One last jerk from Melissa and I groan, closing my eyes as my nuts tighten.

I start to spew.

It's a good thing Melissa is aiming my giant rod because I would've just cum up in the air and it would've landed on me.

But she points my cock at her mouth and opens wide as arcs of my cum race out and onto her waiting tongue.

"Mmmm," Melissa says with a smile.

Lisa's next, and two ropes of thick, gooey, juicy cum hit her on the forehead and the right cheek.

Josie doesn't waste any time. She just wraps her lips around my tip and starts to suck as I start to shoot.

My eyes travel back into my head as my cum shoots out and goes down her  throat. She milks it, her mouth using air pressure to suck me fucking  dry.

The ladies are slurping and sucking, and when Josie lets me out of her  mouth, they take turns licking my sensitive head, paralyzing me in  overstimulated pleasure.

See, Python is a place where this shit is possible.

We're in a private fucking booth, but if you want, you can go get a  private room, with as many people as you want. You can also go near the  main stage, sit and enjoy the show. You can hang out at the bar, or you  can sit separate from everything in the dining room.

It's a place where women come to look at fucking men.

And not just men walking around.

I went out and I got the most ripped, most cut, and most statuesque men you could fucking find all over the country.

Men with large muscles.

And even larger cocks.

I put them on the floor or on stage or behind the bar. Shirtless. With tight boxer briefs.

They exist for your fucking pleasure.

You ever been to Hooter's?

Well, welcome to fucking Python. Please do feed the fucking animals.

But this is really the last part that's going to tell you to take your fucking panties off and come inside, beautiful.

And that is, Python has a strict entrance policy.

No men.

Just women.

Not even gay men.

A place where women come and let their fantasies run wild. Do whatever  they want. Whether it's just for an evening out like Melissa and her  friends, or a bachelorette party, or even a corporate retreat. Fuck,  I've seen it all.

Just one year, and it's already packed. Already making a profit. Already fucking famous as New York City's Woman Pleaser.

Fuck, I'll take that name. And I guarantee you that you will fucking  like it too. In fact, by the time I say we're done at the end, you're  going to be so fucking wet that I'm seriously telling you right now to  take your fucking panties off.

Send the kids off to school or tell them to go watch some TV. Fuck, put  'em to bed if you need to because you're not going to care about life in  a few more pages. You're just going to want to fucking cum.

Don't say I didn't warn you, babe.

Welcome to Python.





62





Out and About - New York City





Bringing you the skinny on the hottest attractions in and around Gotham …



Today Out and About New York City takes you to the club that's become the hottest sensation in the five boroughs.

Sitting in a nondescript section of Long Island City in Queens, among  warehouses and industrial areas that are just in the process of being  gentrified, is New York City's hottest club.

Welcome to Python.

But, while some of the clubs across the East River might be exclusive, Python takes it to a whole new level.

If you're a man, only one word. Fuhgeddaboudit.

That's right.
         

     



 
Python's owner, Austin Price doesn't allow in any men through the front  door as guests. The club caters strictly to a female clientele. But  where they don't take men as guests, they employ mostly men as  entertainers.

And it's no wonder why it's women only.

Because if these women let their boyfriends and husbands see what goes  on in this club, there's no way they'd ever be allowed to go back in  again.

First off, Out and About wasn't even allowed to send a male photographer.

We had to send a woman.

And after the first night, she had to go back again.

In fact, she's been back to Python every night since.

"There's something there for everyone," a club-goer commented. "If you  want to sit back and watch the men lick each other's muscles, you're  absolutely welcome to do that."

But that's not all. Not by a long shot.

"If you want to have them lick you, it's totally possible. Want to run  your tongue across their abs? They let you do that too," another female  partier admitted.

But that's not the real shocker.

"Got enough money? Get a private show. Or a private room, complete with  it's own bed. You want to know what goes on there? Maybe you should pay  the fucking dolla bills to find out, eh?" Austin Price, the owner  suggested to us when we pressed him.

And pressing is just the beginning.

From the very entrance, the club is filled with stimulation that  delights the senses, whether your senses favor looking, listening,  smelling, touching, or even tasting.

"It's like a bar where the men go gather and look at women wearing Daisy  Dukes with big knockers," one 68-year-old woman describes it. "Only in  this place, it's the women staring at the beefcakes with the big dicks."

Critics have raved over the party atmosphere that Python has brought to  Court Square, as bars and eateries have opened up around it to serve the  diverse female clientele that frequent the place.