Free Powerful Men 3: Four Hot Alphas who Take Whatever They Want by Carla Kane Page B

raised his hand to his mouth and sucked his fingers. He smiled wickedly as he lowered them towards Sandra’s sopping cunt. She couldn’t wait to feel him inside her and she arched her hips towards him greedily as he slipped them up into her burning crevice.
    ‘So fucking tight,’ he muttered, ‘so hot!’
    As he pleasured her hard and fast, he jerked his head forward against hers and kissed her greedily again. Sandra closed her eyes and feasted on his mouth as she rocked her hips back and forth, fucking his fingers with the full force of her body. She was going to explode any second.
    ‘Hold on,’ the President said, ‘I have an idea.’
    With his free hand, he reached across to his desk and opened the drawer. The cigar he removed was bigger than any she’d ever seen, but climax was so close now she couldn’t even comprehend why he might be holding it in his hand. The only thing her mind could contain now was pure unadulterated pleasure.
    ‘Cuban,’ the President smiled, ‘but don’t tell anybody.’
    He brought the tip of the cigar down towards her throbbing pussy and slowly drew his hand out of it and up over her clit, teasing it as he slipped the cigar into her hot trench.
    ‘That’s it,’ he nodded, watching her face hungrily as he expertly pleasured her down below, ‘cum for your President, cum for your commander-in-chief.’
    It was too much to refuse. Sandra’s whole body started to reverberate as the energy built inside her to a head and she came all over the President’s hands and cigar.
    Panting, she passively let him kiss her face as she slowly came back down to earth. The President stepped back and smiled at her. Then he popped the cigar out of her pussy and right up into his mouth. He lit a match and started to puff.
    ‘Best damn smoke in the whole free world,’ he grinned and blew a furl of rich cigar smoke up into the air around him.
    A few days later, Trina Scholl knocked tentatively on the door to the Oval Office. She’d fucked up big time and she knew it – the French had decided at the last minute to veto the treaty – and if the President had gone with the original information she’d given him then the ensuing cock-up could have been monumental.
    ‘Ah Trina,’ the President greeted sitting at his desk, ‘please come in.’
    ‘Yes sir, of course,’ she said.
    The President looked furious, more worked up than she’d ever seen him. His face was a deep shade of red and a thick vein stood out on his forehead which was shiny from sweat. Trina knew she was doomed.
    Suddenly the President spluttered and coughed, causing Trina to jump near out of her skin. ‘Ahem,’ he said, ‘excuse me, Miss eh, Miss Scholl. Oh my…’
    ‘You asked me to see you?’ Trina said.
    ‘That’s right,’ the President said. Suddenly he winced. ‘Oh Jesus!’ he spat.
    Trina was already making plans for getting back on the job market. Hopefully this wouldn’t ruin her whole life completely.
    ‘So I trust you heard the French haven’t ratified the treaty?’ the President asked, seeming to regain himself once more.
    ‘Yes sir,’ Trina said, ‘sir I’m sorry – ’
    ‘SHIT!’ the President suddenly barked and Tina jumped again. He settled down. ‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘Yes, in fact they vetoed it. Luckily young Sandra – aaah – Blake stepped in just in time and saved us from the mess you might have otherwise created.’
    ‘That’s right,’ Trina said.
    ‘I think you owe Miss Blake uuuuuuuugghh an apology, don’t you?’
    ‘Yes sir,’ Trina said.
    ‘Have you seen her?’ the President asked, ‘nobody seems to know where she is right now. Oh GOD!’  
    ‘I have not sir,’ Trina spoke, by now terrified by the President’s absolutely bizarre, almost unstable reaction to her indiscretion.
    ‘Well see that you do,’ the President said, ‘and make sure you mean it – if not for her you wouldn’t even have a job anymore. That’s all Miss Scholl.’
    ‘Yes sir,’ Trina