Mr. President

“Like always.”

“Like always,” he repeats after me. “All the floors were packed, and some girl got into her head that she needed to go up the stage and have Maverick dance for her. She just climbed onto the stage and tackled him; can you believe it? She could have just asked.” Just another night, then. It seems that there’s always something crazy happening at Dirty Python, the hottest place in New York. No, scratch that, the hottest place in the East Coast.

Since we’ve opened doors that it seems that we’re making headlines in some media outlet. We climbed out from the seedy columns in newspapers into the mainstream. Every single day there’s a reporter knocking at our doors, or calling us up trying to schedule an interview or an exclusive piece. It was fun in the beginning, but we mostly just turn them down now. Our club is a place where people, both men and women, can enjoy themselves free of society’s prying and judgmental eyes. It’s a safe haven, and we don’t have reporters there pestering our customers. That’s probably one of the reasons why we’ve grown so successful.

Austin used to joke that he wasn’t still a few millions away from becoming a billionaire, but that changed pretty fast. We’re making so much money with Python that we’re already considering opening another club just like it on the West Coast. That is, if you find someone trustworthy enough to run it. Strokes isn’t really interested in running a club again.

Oh, yeah, you’re probably wondering about her. She actually spent half a year in Barcelona, and then she travelled all over Europe for two more months. She came back to the States the day she found out I was about to give birth. She bawled her eyes out when I told her we were naming our baby after her.

She eventually settled in New York again, the city no longer feeling like a bad place full of bad memories. These days, she only sees possibilities wherever she goes. She’s gotten into her mind that she wants to be a lawyer, and Austin promptly said we should pay for all of her tuition. I agreed in a heartbeat.

“Come here,” I whisper at Austin, placing my arms around his neck and pulling him in for one long kiss. I close my eyes, savoring his kiss as if it was the first one. It seems like everything happened a lifetime ago… Remember when I went to Python just so I could spy for Lester? Everything spun out of control after that day and, by God, I couldn’t be happier that it happened the way it did. In a twisted turn of events, Lester was the one bringing us together.

Oh, about him… He actually did leave New York as Austin made him promise. He quit his position as the Police Commissioner, and then just packed everything and moved to Las Vegas. There, he decided it was good a good idea to try out the roulette and, next thing he knows, he’s flat out broke.

Eventually he decided to turn his life around. The last time we’ve heard from the people keeping tabs on him, it seems that he had gotten a job at a coffee shop. That’s right, from Police Commissioner to minimum wage barista in Las Vegas. If you ever come across him, make sure you place an extra complicated order for him. And don’t tip.

“Do you think we have the time before she wakes up?” Austin whispers, that mischievous grin of his flaring up something inside of me. It’s like this every day, really. You’d think that all that electric lust would start dissipating after a few months of fucking every single day, but in fact it’s been just the opposite. Sure, it’s trickier nowadays with the baby; I have learned to be quieter, that’s one, but we still can’t go a day without sex.

“I think we do,” I whisper back at him, my arms still around his neck. I pull him after me and he lies down on top of my body, his hands going down to my waist.

“You know… Sometimes I find myself wondering if all this isn’t just a dream. You, Anna, the club… How in the world did I ever get so lucky?”

“I wonder the same sometimes,” I take my hand to his crotch and then squeeze his cock, feeling it already hard and pulsing against the palm of my hand. “But then I just feel you inside of me and I realize that this is as real as it could be…”

“Well, let’s make the test then. Just to be sure,” he smiles as I start unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down. Yeah, let’s be sure.

But he’s right, you know? Our life seems like something out of a fairy-tale. We’re the envy of the whole world. Could life be any more perfect?

I doubt it, I really do.

89

Second Epilogue - Austin

So, that’s what ends up happening, in the end. Sure, I’m a cocky fucking asshole. But I ended up getting my fucking comeuppance pretty good, don’t you think?

I have to say though, I’m a very grateful man. And I’ve changed. Destiny’s changed me. She’s so invariably cute. Like a fucking button. Then one day, something crazy happens. I see her walking around the condo in her lace white boy shorts and belly shirt and my cock grows in a second. But she ends up looking at me with those wide eyes of hers and shakes her head, “Maybe if you’re good and follow instructions,” she says, crooking her fingers. And I growl, like an animal and follow her around the apartment - being led around like a dog. She sits down on the couch and turns on a movie. I don’t like the looks of what I’m seeing - a movie called ‘Hope Floats’ has never really floated my boat, but Destiny grabs me by the cock - I swear she grabs me by the cock - and pulls me closer to her.

I end up cuddling with her the entire movie. Smelling her hair. Holding her arms. Feeling her ass wriggle and nestle itself in my crotch - enveloping me with her ass cheeks. Any other girl, this shit would not be okay. But for Destiny, I actually fucking enjoy it.

Destiny turns over to me as the movie ends and looks deep into my eyes.

“You know my friend Alexis is finishing up her novel about us, right?” Destiny asks.

I’ve met Alexis a few times. She’s a cute girl. She’s a bit quirky. I know she’s fucking crazy about being sexy in every part of her life. Whether that means being outside in beautiful weather, or sitting at home reading a fucking book, you'll never see her go more than ten minutes without smiling and saying something fucking dirty.

And let me tell you, when she dirty, she’s talking about us.

“So, Alexis writes steamy contemporary romance about bad boys for the bad girl in all of us. She is still single at 30, in case anyone is interested to know, and still very much looking for love,” Destiny tells me.

I nod to her, not sure where this is going as she continues, “Her favorite things in the world are flowers, chocolate, lingerie, high heels, lipstick, perfume, and the credit card award miles that she gets from buying all that.”

This is just fucking strange. But I watch as Destiny talks to me.

“Prior to writing, Alexis used to be a financial analyst in New York City,” Destiny tells me. “She quickly decided that working for a faceless corporation run by men was not her dream job. So she began to write. And as she began to write, she began to use those credit card award miles to travel all over the world.”

“Okay, what the fuck is the point?” I ask.