Fuck Me Harder, Mr. Mayor

Want results... Improving.

Damn. This arrangement with S city will bring 50 good-paying manufacturing jobs back to A city .

They'll just care about my cock and where I put it.

I see my motorcade move through W City.

I'm here to win a battle tonight.

Charles Davis exclaims, "You look so fucking sexy, baby." His wide eyes take in every curve of my body. His paunch stretches his white shirt as he sits on the bed.

"Am I hot?" I ask sheepishly and smile deviously. I bridge the gap between us and sit on Charles' lap, arm around his neck.

Then... You do," he murmurs, putting one hand on my nude knee and touching my Saint Laurent dress hem. I could have tempted Charles with a cheap, trashy outfit, but I don't like to underestimate men. I

I bend over and kiss his ear, saying, "I like how you say it." Charles' cock is as little as he is old, and I gulp back a laugh when I realize it. He's old enough to be my father-no, granddad.

Charles is the CEO of a pharmaceutical firm. He's 65 and one of the city 's most successful businesspeople. Charles is successful, greedy, and immoral. He made his money by hiking medicine costs and has never apologized. Where's A city Dream? Sociopaths dominate the world today.

"Know what's hot?" I move around on his lap and straddle him. Without looking away, I lift my skirt hem to show him my black La Perla thong. A strong guy is sexy. "I can't help it," I mumble, ruffling his hair.

"Lucky night!" His hands slide down my side and he softly squeezes my cheeks. He licks his lips and stares at me expectantly.

"Why?" Purring, I bite my bottom lip and inquire.

"Because I'm here... and I'm all yours, sweetheart," he says. He spent all night gnawing on the hook, then swallowed it.

I wasn't surprised. Men are predictable. You only have to play the right notes, and they'll dance. Charles made it easy.

I knew he was at the SC and that Charles likes booze. To get his attention, I needed to be alone at the bar after dinner. Between arriving and attempting to talk to me, 15 minutes elapsed. Charles is a self-confident guy who can't resist a lady like me, despite his age and features.

Men always find me attractive. I'm not boasting. Add a polished fashion sense, and I can cut a man's soul like butter. Which is fine given my job.

Charles asked me to his room after two drinks, despite being married for 30 years. Married guys are surprisingly easy to seduce. A married guy is the easiest to entice.

"Let's get you out of these clothes," I moan, pushing my crotch into his. I loosen his tie and yank it over his head, then unbutton his shirt to display his hairy chest.

"Now you're talking," he murmurs, squeezing my breasts.

"That's nice," I murmur, moving my hips and stroking my pussy on his jeans. Well, despite his little cock, he can get it up.

"Undress. I-I want you to undress for me," he sighs, his eyes narrowing as he attempts to take charge of our relationship.

"Anything for you," I mutter as my fingers slip down his tummy. Before rising up, I touch his cock with my hand on his crotch.

He stays silent while I turn my back on him and hook my fingers on my dress straps. I pull them down and let my dress fall to my waist, covering my breasts. Swinging my hips, I let the garment fall down my legs before meeting Charles' eyes.

"Oh, fuck," he whispers, staring at me with wide eyes. His stare practically scorches my black lace underwear as it travels up and down my body.

More? I tease him by unbuckling my bra.

"Yeah," he says in a heavy tone. I lick my lips.

Charles, show me your cock... I want you to be tough on me," I say, approaching him. At my instructions, he quickly unbuckles his belt, unzips his fly, and pulls his underwear and trousers to his knees.

"Is this hard enough?" he says, stroking his cock with two fingers.

I take another step toward him and bend closer, putting my lips to his ear. "And I think that's hard enough for the camera," I say, pointing to the closet. A spy cam is hidden in the space between the door and the wall.

"What's up?" As his gaze follows my fingers, he realizes he's messed up badly. Too late. "You fuckin' bitch!" he yells, standing. Instead of displaying fear as he lifts his hand to hit me, I smile.

"Hit me," I dare. "Charles, you're knee-deep in crap." Hit me, and that s*** will climb to your neck. My operatives are documenting everything... If you mess with me, my coworkers will broadcast it online. In seconds."

Still with his hand up, he hisses. I wouldn't be astonished if his brain burst if he didn't drop his trembling hand.

"I got fucked!" Trying to cover his shriveled cock, he pulls his trousers up uncomfortably.

"I did," I shrug as I put on my outfit.

"Who put you up to this?" he demands between angry teeth. He probably believes a competing firm recruited me or this is an inside coup - someone wants to be CEO. Answer is simple.

I said, "Your wife." She needed evidence of your cheating to dump you. I turn away from him and get my camera from the closet. I grab my handbag from a chair and put the camera inside.

Charles begs, "Don't do this!" When he realizes he has my attention, he kneels and prays. "Don't do it. You'll destroy my life."