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So I took a deep breath and smiled once more, putting down my purse before standing.
“Um, is there any music?” I asked. “Or I can dance to no music, it’s no problem.”
In return, Thomas flicked a console by his side and the latest strains of a jazz piece came on. Perfect. Usually, I danced to pre-chosen songs during my sets, but this was fine. There was a workable beat, and the strains of the melody were classy and refined.
So taking a deep breath, I began to sway my hips, front and back and then from side to side. My hands found the tie of my trench coat and making eye contact with the big man, I loosened the stays before slipping the canvas material off my narrow shoulders.
“Atta girl,” the alpha breathed, letting his eyes roam all over my form. “You got it, sweetheart.”
Because I knew what he was seeing. I’ve put on weight since moving to the city, but fortunately, it’s mostly gone to all the right parts. My boobs are huge Double Ds, swinging along in time the music, and I’ve got a giant ass that bumps when I walk. Plus, my thighs. They’re meaty but luscious, and more than one customer has tried to take a bite while I dance onstage.
But right now, there was only one client and I took a deep breath, trying to center myself even as I moved in time to the music. Calm, came the voice in my head. Just because he’s our country’s commander-in-chief doesn’t mean he’s any different from a normal man. That was true. I needed to do what I did best, so I closed my eyes and focused on the music, letting the beat take over.
Running my hands through the curls draped over my back, I swung around so that my back was to the man before reaching behind and slowly, unsnapping my bra. Oh yeah. The lacey fabric almost popped free, my ta-tas wanted to be out. And slowly, I slid the material down my arms before dropping the brassiere to the floor.
“You wanna see, big guy?” I teased, looking over my shoulder slyly while still swaying my hips. “You want the goods?
Thomas didn’t even reply. Instead, one hand crept down to his waistband, popping the button on his pants. Oh good. He was into it and I smirked a bit before swinging around to face him and dropping my hands.
And shit, but my boobs practically exploded in his face then, they were so huge and luscious.
“Fuck baby,” he groaned, now stroking the massive pole at his waist. “Fuck yeah, sweetheart.”
I tittered a little although my heart had started racing. Because oh my god, his shaft was huge. And I mean, extra-extra large. Who knew that our president was packing? They usually say that powerful men have small wieners, but definitely not in this case.
And the more I looked at him, the more my pussy ran. Because the man was gorgeous, hands down. Those eyes shot pure blue fire, roaming all over my curves, as his chest and abs hardened with lust. Plus I just couldn’t ignore the missile between his hands. It was locked, loaded, and ready to fire, and I couldn’t wait to get a taste.
But you’re not on birth control!the voice in my head screamed. You never touch clients in that way, so you’re not even on the pill. But I knew that tonight was different. This alpha was so compelling that I couldn’t resist him, not with the way that powerful male body beckoned to me.
So with an appreciative glance at his dripping cock, I licked my lips lasciviously while toying with the edges of my g-string.
“You ready for this, big guy?” I asked breathily. “You ready for some action?”
He growled, sparks shooting from those eyes.
“Sure am, sweetheart,” came his strangled reply. “Let it fly and let me see.”
And with a small mewl, I wiggled out of the g-string, slowly smoothing the material over my thighs and down my calves, before stepping out of them entirely. Oh god. It was embarrassing, but a long line of pussy cum connected the crotch of the g-string to my cunt, evidence of my desire. With a tantalizing finger, I reached down and broke the string, letting the sticky goop wrap around my digit before raising it to my mouth.
“Mmm,” was my delighted purr. “Tastes good.”
He growled in return, eyes never leaving my form.
“Fuck you’re wet,” was all the president said. “Fuck yeah.”
Oh, but I was more than wet, and I wanted to show him. So spinning on my heels, I bent over and spread my legs, revealing everything from clit to back hole.
“You like what you see?” I murmured, peering at him from over one shoulder. “It’s a full-service view.”
Never mind that my words didn’t exactly make sense. Because Thomas’s hand at his cock started moving furiously, wet sucking sounds filling the room as he rubbed his shaft.
“Oh fuck, baby,” he moaned deliriously, just about to explode. “Oh fuck fuck fuck.”
But I wasn’t gonna let him blow right onto the carpet. By my estimation, he was close already. Maybe even a little too close. So abandoning my plans of doing a little more dancing, I backed up to him until I was sitting in his lap, my back to his chest.
“Oh,” came my breathy murmur as his hand reached around to stroke my clit. “Oh yeah, just like that.”
But again, Thomas was too close. I could feel his hard member rigid and aroused against the small of my back, already leaking furiously with pre-cum. So levering myself up a little, I reached between my legs and gripped that member, guiding it into my cunt.
