Page 12 of Praise Me: President

Pierce takes a cheek in each oversized palm, hesitating, before drawing them apart. Moaning. Parting them more andmore until I can feel the air conditioning against that puckered part of me. His reverent breath, too. “Son of a bitch. Can’t believe that tight little thing was sitting in my lap earlier, scooting all over my cock.” I sense him tilting his head, his exhale coming out uneven. “Your pussy made you wet all the way back here.Fuck.”

His palms cracks down against my buttocks, and I whimper, tears of pleasure blurring my vision, the moisture tracking down my cheeks, dripping off my chin, my open lips. I’m lying across President McAlister’s lap and he’s spanking me. Repeatedly. He drops his hand like a judge with a gavel, his breath growing increasingly dense, my sex leaking down the insides of my thighs, onto his pant legs. Out of my control. Out of my mind. I’mout of my skinand yet I’ve never been more at home inside of it, receiving the president’s love blows, followed by soothing rubs of his hand, crooned words of praise for having such a fuckable little asshole and letting him spread my cheeks. Redden them.

“I can’t stop,” he says raggedly, slapping my bottom. “I need to stop.”

“No!”

“Yes, angel. Stop me or you won’t sit down for a week.”

I don’t know what comes over me, I just act on instinct, crawling backwards and fumbling with the gold buckle of his belt, ripping the leather free through the loops, and sucking him through his pants. Sucking and moaning and fondling the president’s steely erection through his dress pants, my mouth watering as I lower the zipper and stuff his big, bare shaft between my lips, suckling and whining over the salty taste, his fingers twisting desperately in my hair, his stomach hollowing at the pleasure, his grunts animalistic, his hips thrusting up, up, up, fucking my mouth with his enormously thick flesh.

“Oh God. Oh fuck.” He drives to my throat and holds, holds, pulling out when I start to choke, his throat muscles straining with a shout. “A little more, just like that, and Daddy’s going to come down your little fucking throat.”

I squeal into his next deep throat drive, a spasm rippling through my sex, a response to his pleasure. The pleasure I’m giving him. He’s already so big and powerful, but right now, he’s a god in the back of this SUV. I’m the one who has been appointed with his gratification and the responsibility has heightened my state of being. I’m a blur. I’m the embodiment of bliss, my purpose to suck as hard and as deeply as I can.

I’m easing the president’s needs. For the sake of the country.Democracy.

“Flash me some asshole and get your throat ready,” he slurs, holding my face to his lap and grinding upward while I sob over the perfect slide of smooth against my tonsils, the jerk of his inches, his hoarse curses and calls of my name. “There it is,” he says when I widen my thighs, tilt my hips to give him the view he requested. “Begging for a man to take charge of it. Spit on it, spoil it and come in it, huh, Eloise?” He shudders. “Jesus, I’m finished.Motherfucker!”

He spills along with the next draw of my mouth, his tall frame tensing, then shaking, his groans loud in the interior of the SUV. I widen my lips as far as they’ll go and tamp down on my gag reflex, housing him inside my mouth, all the way to his balls, his thighs flexing and jerking beneath me, damp saltiness pouring down my throat and I swallow eagerly, my knees slipping in the mess I made on the seat as I try to scramble closer, not wanting a single drop of him to escape me.

“Eloise. Eloise. Eloise.”

I don’t stop until he’s spent, and the stamina drops right out of me. I have just enough energy to turn over and allow myself to be gathered and cradled in his arms while he kisses my cheeks,my chin, my forehead, before my eyes roll into the back of my head and I pass out from the euphoria, a smile lingering on my face even in sleep.

seven

. . .

Pierce

My reflection stares backat me in the bathroom mirror. I look like my usual self, save the part where I’m dressed in a tuxedo for the senator’s gala. The man looking back at me is stoic. Focused. Not an animal who spanks a young woman’s ass until it’s bright red, then fucks her mouth in the back of a car while someone else drives.

What the hell came over me?

Daddy’s going to come down your little fucking throat.

Never in my life would I have expected something so harsh to leave my mouth, especially in the company of someone so sweet. Someone who looks up to me. Answers to me, professionally. My palm stings from swatting her beautiful backside…and I should be ashamed of how badly I’d like to do it again. I should be given a prison sentence for thinking about next time. How I’m going to spread the ample moisture from her pussy all over those jiggly little ass cheeks while I smack them.

“You are the fucking president, Pierce,” I say to my reflection. “Pull it together.”

I’m trying.

Really, I am. But Ms. Eloise Rogers has become my fucking fixation.

Not only is she smart, ambitious, successful in her chosen field, adorable, personable and interesting…she seems to be obsessed with the idea of giving me pleasure. And thus, I am hanging on to my resolve by a string, knowing how unethical dating a cabinet member—and a woman twelve years younger—will appear to the public, while also dead positive I will strangle the next man who checks her out.

Let somebody fucking try me.

Possessiveness beats in my chest like some primitive demand to claim her completely. And I really don’t think I’m going to be able to stop myself. I want Eloise. I want her as my girlfriend. I want her in my bed every night. I want to comfort her on helicopter rides and listen to her speculate on upcoming legislation.

I push off the sink and straighten my cuff links.

Decision made.

I’m making her my girlfriend, but I’m doing it therightway. I’m not going to sneak her around and hide what’s happening. Honesty is always the best policy—and goddamn, I want everyone in the free world to know she’s mine.

Yeah, I’m doing this relationship right.

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