Mr Presidents Wild Obsession Novels & Stories

a cool and frank voice with a hint of sultry in it replied. He walked in, when he saw the interior of the office his mouth dropped open. The big swiveling chair was directly opposite the door as soon as you came in. The roof to wall window was so huge, giving an over view of the city from anywhere you are standing. The office was big and cozy with two pairs of sofa and a small center table. Myron was lost admiring the office until a hand tapped him on his shoulder bringing him back to reality. "You must be the person with the information right?" Roseline asked gazing at him intensely.

Zachary didn't pursue the matter further, thinking there would be plenty of time in the future. Unbeknownst to them, someone with ill intentions had captured Joey's eye-roll and posted it online. #Chloe Looks Beautiful When She Rolls Her Eyes The hashtag trended because she and Zachary had appeared together. "They look so good together. Why did Zachary get engaged to Yvonne? Don't presidents always end up with weak-willed women? I can't accept it!" "Presidents like to control women. Look at Chloe; she clearly doesn't fit his type. Chloe rolled her eyes so perfectly. This playboy should stay away from my queen!"

I gave him Blow jobs so many times but his skills were beyond my imagination. "Don't you get tired??" "Oh, I can't get tired Ever." "Don't you have any shame, Mr CEO, trying on your Secretary??" "My craving for my secretary is never-ending. And My late-night cravings are always you."

Like how Flora and I snuck into a movie set one time to obtain bribery evidence. When we finally stopped, Marco peeped through a make-do window into what appeared to be an office, furnished and proper. I feared even a spec of dust inside could cost a thousand dollars. I clamped a hand on my mouth incase my opened jaw was making noises I couldn't hear over my disbelief. What was an office like this doing in a dilapidated warehouse? As if reading my mind, Marco gave me a look that read, ‘You'll see’ before carefully opening the wooden door.

“Just shut up. It’s finished already. Let’s get this over with. Are you messing around? Are you crazy?” It was honestly true. Tristan talked way too much. Earlier, it felt like his jaw had been struck open like a rock under a hammer. “Okay, I’m really sorry, Mr. President, but I have one question.” Tristan raised a finger, like some kind of professor. “Fine. What is it? Make it quick. I don’t have time to waste my saliva on you. A.K.A., you’re not worth talking to,” Josh said, pride sharp in his tone.

"It was… some guy. Didn’t give a name. But he's from the La Morte." I stepped back, the name sparking something in my memory. 10 years after, yet they're still in my business. I glanced at River, who nodded, already pulling out his phone to dig deeper. I lifted my gun to his face, I shot his eyes, then the second and continuously fired bullets into his already limp body only stopping when River slapped the gun away from me. The men were already cleaning off the mess, the second guy will be kept hostage till I'm in the mood to play again.

He's right, after all, she should have asked him before preparing the coffee. "I'll just make another one sir" she muttered, she took the coffee and left the office. Charles touched his forehead in frustration, he shouldn't have overreacted and he knows that, but he just hates it when there is sugar in his coffee, it makes him remember his old past he had long buried. The door opened, he was expecting it to be Hailey but was disappointed to find Mr Monterio entering the room with a lady behind him. Charles scoffed. Like seriously? This early morning?

The look on her face whenever she begged me to fuck her, and the soft bite on her lip, did something to me—something I just couldn’t explain or control. I looked down at my pants to see my hardness pushing against my fly. Thank heavens I left there as fast as I could; I would’ve embarrassed myself with that. I tried to take my mind off these thoughts by focusing on work and other things, but it didn’t work. I decided to try something else by turning on the music player, but the first song that came on was “Sex With Me” by Rihanna. It was like salt in the wound; it made my condition worse and sent different thoughts flying through my mind.

Adrian and Richard froze, cocks still twitching. The board representative, Dr. Lena Voss (no relation, but her sharp eyes burned with judgment), stood frozen in the doorway, phone held high recording every filthy detail. My naked body glistened with sweat and cum. Thick white loads leaked from my stretched pussy and ass, dripping down my thighs onto the couch. My heavy tits heaved, nipples red and swollen from rough pinching. "Turn off the camera or join the treatment," Richard snarled, still buried half hard in my cunt.

Jesus, they were so large I could see the sides of them from behind her. And I could see myself, looking frozen and slightly disheveled, the pleasure barely hidden on my face. Despite my protestations, this did feel amazing, but I could not let this go on. This was way too far. I was married. I loved my girlfriend! I am a professional. I should not be liking this. I should not let this ambitious little temptress get her way, even if it did feel really good.