Mr. President - Page 173

Mistress Strokes is already standing outside, in front of the door, huddled under a long jacket. She steps inside the house and, as I leave the door unlocked behind us, she drops the jacket to the floor and looks at me. We nod at each other and then she walks toward the living room, wearing nothing but a thong and a bra.

“Let’s do this,” she whispers at me, a mischievous flicker in her eyes as she walks past me. As the two of us step inside Lester’s living room, he jumps to his feet and roars.

“YOU!” he shouts, pointing at Mistress Strokes. His hand is trembling, and he’s smiling as if he has just won the lottery. He walks toward her and, before he can do anything, I step between them.

“This is the real reason I took so long to come here,” I tell him in a soothing tone. “I was trying to get her to come with me. She told me everything, Lester… She told me about how she rebelled against you, and how she acted out. Your stepdaughter is a stubborn one, I’ll giver her that,” I flash him my best smile and then lead him toward the couch, sitting down with him. Only then do I continue. “But I beat some sense into her head. And she’s here because she wants forgiveness… And she’s willing to do anything to get it. Isn’t that right?” I ask Mistress Strokes, looking over my shoulder toward her. She nods and saunters over to us, mimicking me and sitting by Lester’s side.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she purrs at him, grabbing his hand and placing it right between her thighs. God, I hope that he buys it, I think, knowing that everything hinges on Lester believing us. Because if he doesn’t, we’re fucked.

Lester looks from Mistress Strokes to me, and I simply smile, mentally calming him down and assuring him that this is all truth. Slowly, his lips curl upward in a devilish grin and he leans back against the couch, placing his free hand right between my thighs. With both his hands on our pussies, he starts to rub, trying to get us wet, but I stop him. I turn to him and run one hand down his chest and straight to his jeans; Strokes does the same and we yank on his jeans at the same time, making all the buttons pop out. We push the jeans down his legs with frantic movements, and then simply let it fall to the floor.

“Daddy,” she purrs against his ear, sliding her hand up from his knee to his crotch. His cock is straining against his boxers and, the moment her fingers brush over his hard shape, Lester closes his eyes and sighs loudly. “Oh, Daddy, forgive me,” she continues to whisper, and I notice his cock throbbing every time she calls him daddy.

“Daddy will forgive you…” he tells her, that evil grin on his lips, “if you do what Daddy tells you to.”

“Anything, Daddy,” she whispers in a thick voice, breathing hard and curling her fingers around his cock. At the same time, I lean into him and start laying soft kisses on his neck, running one hand down his stomach until I meet Strokes’ own hand. I place mine on top of hers, and we squeeze his cock harshly at the same time. We exchange a glance and, moving at the same time, we push his boxers down his legs, making his cock spring free. Pre-cum is glistening on its tip and, judging by the way Lester is breathing, it’s a small miracle that he hasn’t come yet.

We stand up in front of him at the same time and, moving seductively, we turn into another. She pulls my dress down my legs, and then presses her body against mine. I reach behind her back and undo the clasp of her bra, and she does the same. We push them down at the same time and turn to him so that he can see our tits.

I’m lying if I’m telling you I’m not turned on.

Mistress Strokes is beautiful. And while I like the cock - namely Austin’s cock - a part of me is secretly excited feeling her fingers on my skin.

Almost there, I think as we start swaying our hips seductively. I hook my fingers on my thong and, biting on my lower lip, start pushing them down. Mistress Strokes does the same, and Lester’s eyes widen so much that I half-expect them to roll out of their orbits.

When we’re both finally naked, our discarded thongs on the floor, we climb back on top of the couch, our hands moving over his torso as we reach for his cock. Then, the moment we curl our fingers around his shaft, I hear a subtle sound coming from the entrance. The door creaks on its hinges as someone pushes it open, but I say nothing; I start stroking him, holding his cock upward as Strokes climbs on top of him. Lester grits his teeth, ready to fuck her, and she starts to ease herself down. That’s when a bright flash of light explodes in the room.

“Smile, you fucking bastard,” Austin says as he steps into the living room. There are four of his security guys with him, men in dark suits with a hard edge in their eyes. One of them has a camera in his hands, and he starts snapping pictures left and right as me and Strokes keep making the dirtiest faces of pleasure we can think of, pretending we’re having the time of our lives.

Yep, Mr. Commissioner, you’re fucked now.

“Girls, you can get away from him now,” Austin tells us with a victorious smile, and Strokes and I get off of the couch as fast as we can. I put my bra and thong on and step inside my dress, then turning to Lester and grinning.

“How do you like it now? You fucking bastard,” I hiss, and then walk up

to him and kick him as hard as I can in the shins. He barely registers it; he simply looks around, his wide eyes now full of terror as his gaze jump from me to Strokes, and then from Strokes to Austin. He has lost, and he knows it.

After kicking him, I walk straight to Austin and fall into his embrace, closing my eyes as I try to push the memories of Lester’s touch to the back of my mind. The man disgusts me, through and through, and I think I’m going to have to take a very long shower after this. But what matters right now is that we’ve pulled it off. Lester played right into our hands, and now we hold all the cards.

If he comes after us, we’ll ruin him. About to fuck his stepdaughter and another woman. Audio recordings from my bag of him soliciting me for sex. Yeah, his career is gonna go down the drain, and all of his political clout will serve him for nothing. He will be discarded by the people above him like some filthy rag. And, of course, he would deserve all of that. And worst.

“We did it,” I whisper at Austin, kissing him on the lips.

“We did it, babe,” he smiles at me, and then he turns serious, taking one step back. “Now, I’m going to have a fucking conversation with that fucking asshole.”

84

Austin

“Lester boy,” I hiss, standing right in front of him. I tower over him, my shadow over his body, and he starts cowering. “Sit up, you pathetic excuse of a fucking man. I’m not going to beat you.” He relaxes at my words, sitting up straight, but his eyes are still wide with fear.

“You can’t do this… You can’t--” Before I can continue, I just punch him straight in the face. Fuck, that felt good. “You told me you wouldn’t hit me,” he cries out in pain, both his hands covering his nose. A straight line of blood starts dripping down from his nose and onto his lips.

“I fucking lied,” I simply shrug, and he turns his eyes up. He’s angry—oh, Lester is a very angry boy right now—but there’s nothing he can do about it. Unless he really wants to kick his ass in such a way that he’ll have to be dragged out of the house in a stretcher. Don’t get me wrong, he deserves all that and so much more, but I’m not a fucking savage. There’s nothing to gain from beating his ass, and my real purpose here is shutting him down for good.

“What do you want?” he cries out again, wiping his bloody face with the back of his hand. I’m almost tempted to punch him again, but somehow I restrain myself.

“What I want? See that young lady there?” I point toward Mistress Strokes, and Lester’s eyes go straight to her. He narrows his eyes into slits, and I don’t think I have ever seen someone so filled with hate. Strokes has been ruining his plans for months, and Lester tried like a mad man to put an end to it. He just didn’t count on me backing Strokes.

Tags: Alexis Angel Billionaire Romance
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