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Mr. President

Page 142

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We’re both wearing nothing more than a skimpy bra and a matching thong, and that’s because we don’t want to waste any time; our show involves much more that just stripping, if you know what I mean.

The music starts, a deep bass and a steady beat, and our bodies are like two matching pieces, linked by something more than just the physical side of things. I’ve known Lux, her real name is Anna, but she goes by Luxury in here, for a few years now, and it’s always special whenever the two of us put on a show for customers.

And since every man with too much money for their own good always seems eager to spend top dollar to see us together, I can’t help but ‘work’ with her even though I own the place.

You don’t say no to easy money and, besides, it’s always fun with Lux. Today we’re hosting a bachelor party, and the group has booked the side room and its stage just for them.

I’m standing in front of Lux, our bodies swaying to the steady beat of the music, and she walks up to me and places her hands on my hips. The men cheer louder as she starts running her hands up and down the side of my body, and I throw the guys a teasing smile.

Then, I throw my head back and let my hair cascade down my back and shoulders as her hands go for my breasts; she squeezes them softly, and then pulls the front clasp of my bra. The cups droop over my breasts, and I watch the men sitting under the stage trying to get a glimpse of my hard nipples.

Oh, don’t judge them; I’m worth every stolen glimpse... and they’re paying more than enough for it.

I push the straps of my bra down my arms, moving slowly, and I can feel the tension rise in the air. When I finally pull it off of my body, my sixth sense tells me that the few cocks in the room that weren’t fucking hard are now as solid as concrete.

Smiling at Lux, I lean in to her and brush my lips against hers while, at the same time, I open the clasp on her own bra. Except, instead of taking it slow, I simply rip it off of her body and throw it to the men under us. I can hear the commotion as two of them jump from their seats to catch the bra, but I don’t bother looking.

My hands run down the side of Lux’s body, and I go down to my knees as I hook my fingers on her thong. I look at the men, that mischievous smile once more on my face, and bite on my lower lip, teasing them as I try to look like I’m wondering about what I should do next

“Take it off,” one of them urges me, and I slide the tip of my index finger over Lux’s thong, gently pressing against her pussy.

She grabs her own tits as I do it, squeezing them and moaning, and I finally start pushing the thong down. Her pussy is starting to show, and no one’s talking any more; if it weren’t for the music, you could hear a pin drop in the room.

“No, you take it off,” one of the men shouts, and I can’t help but smile at that. Even though most men would kill and die for a chance to be with a woman like Lux, I guess some things can’t really be helped.

I’m in high demand, after all, especially since a lot of these men know me from my days as a porn star.

It isn’t easy being famous, you know?

Sigh. Alright then. Here we go.

I go up to my feet, my fingers still on Lux’s thong, and she takes her hands to my waist. We start to pull down on each other’s thongs at the same time and, when I feel the string being pulled down from between my ass cheeks…

What the fuck?

Did you hear that?

What the fuck was that noise?

I jerk, hearing that loud bang.

You heard that too, right?

It’s from the end of the room.

I turn my head there just in time to see someone barging in.

What the fuck is going on?

I narrow my eyes into slits, trying to see the person walking toward the stage in a straight hurried line, and then I feel my heart sink inside my chest.

Fucking Christ.

It’s Lester Vicks, and he looks fucking pissed.

“Show’s over, gentlemen,” he shouts, pulling his badge from a pocket in his overcoat and flashing it to the men sitting at the tables. It’s almost as if he said there’s a bomb inside the building; they scurry out like mice, heading out of the room as if they were running for their lives.

Oh. My. God.



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