I couldn’t get over the image before my eyes.

Brian Kinney – our President – lay sprawled naked on my bed, smoking. He watched me through lust-hooded eyelids, as I sat Indian style at the foot of my bed, sketchpad in hand.

Brian offered his cigarette to me, smiling. I accepted it, shading my drawing.

“Are you about done?” Brian asked, stretching and yawning.

“Almost. A few more minutes. I think you can move, since I’m mostly done.”

“Can I see?” Brian sat up and leaned forward, turning around until his head was on my lap. “Hi.” He grinned up at me.

“Hey.” I smiled back, dropping a kiss on his mouth, before placing the cigarette between his swollen lips.

While he finished the smoke, I finished my sketch.

“Ta-da!” I turned the sketchpad toward him, so he could see my rough drawing. It wasn’t my best work, but I had done it in half an hour, so I was proud of it.

Brian leaned over the edge of the bed, crushing the butt of the cigarette in the ashtray on the floor. Then he took the sketchpad, his eyes taking in every detail of the drawing. Then he fixed me with a look, I could read admiration and surprise in his eyes.

“So?” I chewed on my lower lip.

Brian placed the sketchpad away, so gently, as if afraid to ruin the drawing, before he faced me. “Wow! Justin…wow. Now, I can’t wait to see my portrait.” His eyes flitted to the covered easel.

“Not happening, Mr. President,” I teased, pushing him on his back and straddling his hips.

His hands came to rest on my thighs, before moving up to my chest, his thumbs flicking my nipples. I bit back a moan, bucking my hips, showing him how ready I was for another round.

He arched a brow. “Up for one more?”

I smiled broadly, feeling my cheeks heating. I lost count how many times we had fucked, but I couldn’t get enough of him.

“Wanna ride me?” One of his hands grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me closer, while his other hand found its way to the crack of my ass.

“I…Fuck…Yeah…Oh, fuck! Brian…” I shuddered above him, his touch making me shake as sparks of arousal flooded my veins.

“So responsive. Did I mention how hot you are?” Brian nipped at my bottom lip, two fingers stuffed in my ass. “Put it on me.”

I felt a condom foil being placed in my hand. With shaky fingers, I ripped it, then rolled the latex on his hard dick. I couldn’t get enough of touching him.

Brian batted my hand away playfully, slowly guiding his erection to my entrance.

I arched my back, anchoring myself with my hands on his knees, as he pushed inside. He was so big and I doubted I would ever get over the way it felt when he breached me the first time. As he found a rhythm, I slumped on top of him, pushing back, meeting his thrusts and moaning into his neck. When he arched his neck, exposing his throat to me, I latched on the skin available, making him moan like a slut.

The hand that wasn’t in my hair, wrapped around my dick. After that, it was a matter of minutes before I spilled between us, taking him with me.

“Fuck, Justin. I don’t ever want to leave your ass.”

I chuckled, lifelessly, allowing him to roll me on my back. I had grown used to being pushed away after fucking. Brian wasn’t into cuddling, and I secretly made it my mission to show him how wonderful cuddling could be.

“I can make you a replica, so you can stuff your dick in it at night and fall asleep like that.”

Brian turned his head to stare at me incredulously. I was busy laughing at my stupid idea, even imagining it, when Brian slid closer.

One of his hands stroked my cheek, his nose nuzzled mine. “If that’s what you want, it can be arranged.”

“What?” I breathed out, dumbly.

He kissed me sweetly, just below my nose. “How would you like to spend the night at the White House?”

“Pinch me. This isn’t real.”

He twisted my left nipple, making me cry out. “That real enough for you, twat?”

“You’re not…joking? What about everyone…what if people see?” I couldn’t believe what we were discussing.

“My employees know better than to run their mouths or point fingers. There are few that know my preference for dick, but it doesn’t matter. No one will say anything, Justin.”

“When I finish your portrait. I will bring it myself. You’ll like it so much, you’ll keep me overnight to thank me.” I winked.

“Then hurry up and finish it, Painter Boy.” Brian smacked my hip playfully, rolling out of the bed.

He went to the bathroom, leaving the door open.

There were a lot of things I was learning about him. Brian was not a prude. It was such a contrast to the image he had to show to the country, and how he actually was in real life.

I got under the blanket, my eyelids drooping, but I tried keeping them open until he returned. When I felt the bed dipping behind me and his slightly cold body flush against my back, I squeaked.

“Wanna warm me up, Painter Boy?” His dick was hardening. Impossible. He was some sort of superhuman.

“Again? Are you kidding me?” I groaned. “If you aren’t into somnophilia, then you should stop while you’re ahead.”

Brian laughed hotly against my neck, his arms wrapping around me. There was yet hope for him and learning how to cuddle.

“Fine. We’ll leave the next round for when we wake up.”

“Great,” I slurred, burrowing closer into his arms, as sleep took me.

oOo

I woke up alone.

I was deliciously sore all over.

The night before came back to me, and I couldn’t help but smile. Despite the little problem with his security, we had a wonderful time together.

When Emmett had moved in with Michael, he had stolen my silky robe, and I hated him for it. I was reduced to wrap the bedsheet around myself, as I went downstairs.

When I reached the living room, I could hear voices from the kitchen. Figuring it was one of his goonies, I went in there relaxed.

I froze in the doorway, nearly dropping the sheet.

Brian was leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand, having an easy conversation with none other than my mother. She was seated at the table, a little tense, but keeping the polite conversation flowing. A real WASP, my mother.

“Mom,” I squeaked, feeling my legs shaking.

“Justin, honey!” She got up, hugging me tightly. “You have to stop giving me tiny heart attacks. When I rang the bell, I noticed the door was opened. I thought you were robbed. Or worse. Killed! Then as I made my way inside…I saw Mr. Kinney here descending from your room…in too little to call decent. When I realized who was in front of me … Though, he was kind enough to explain the situation, before I could faint from shock.”

And she could talk a storm.

“Yeah…I’m sure this isn’t the strangest thing you’ve walked on in here.”

She blushed. “No, it definitely doesn’t beat the time I found those guys butt naked in your living room.”

“They were my models, Mother! And they weren't naked, they had boxers on.” I threw Brian an embarrassed smile, shuffling closer.

He beamed, opening his arms for me to snuggle up. “Justin, honey,” he mocked mom’s words, making me step on his toes. “Had a good sleep?” he asked against my temple.

“Yeah. Sorry about her. I forgot about our tradition to start the New Year together.”

“I’m good at distracting people.” Brian shrugged, noncommittally. He leaned down, kissing me.

I felt eyes on us, and pulled away from Brian to find Mom watching us, surprised.

“How much did Brian tell you?” I asked, busying myself with pouring coffee in my mug.

“That he’s discovered your paintings a couple years ago, and decided to hire you to do his portrait.”

“That’s correct.”

She sat back down. “What I don’t understand…”

I sighed heavily. “Please don’t say what I think you want to say. I don’t sleep with my clients! Well…Brian's the only exception.”

“Brian?” She frowned. He waved at her, smiling around a sip of coffee. Her eyes widened. “You call the President on his name?”

I bit back a laugh. “Mom, I think I know him on a level that’s appropriate to call him on his given name.”

“That you do, Painter Boy.” Brian smirked, rubbing my arm.

Mom stared at us, blinking from time to time. I expected a lecture, but to my surprise, she took another sip from her coffee, before standing.

“I better leave. I expect you to call when you’re available. Molly misses you.”

“Sure. I’ll call you later.” Reluctantly, I left Brian's side, walking Mom out. “Tell Molly I love her and will see her soon.”

“Will do.” She nodded somberly. “You be careful. This is a lot of trouble…what you two are doing.”

“Mom…” I grabbed her elbow. “I hope it’s not necessary, but I’m still telling you. Don’t talk about this.”

She gave me a pointed look, like I was crazy, before leaving.

I returned to the kitchen. Brian was ransacking my cabinets for cookies.

Before I could ask how he felt about the impromptu visit of my mother’s, his phone rang. Mouth full of Oreo, he answered.

“Ben. Good morning!” Obviously, it didn’t sound at all like that, his words distorted. He swallowed, laughing. “No, you moron. Though, Painter Boy would probably like to gag me. I’m having breakfast.” He listened to whatever Ben was telling him, while I retrieved my mug. “No, I think that was pushed to the fifth. Cynthia told me so a few days ago.” He frowned, stuffing another biscuit in his mouth. “Tell Theodore to email me…” Pieces of biscuit flew from his mouth as he talked.

I tried not to laugh as he picked at the crumbs on his chest, while firing instructions to Ben. Then he started licking his fingers, his eyes meeting mine. They darkened, and I felt my dick waking up.

“Just email me everything. I’ve gotta go.” He hung up. “Someone’s naughty,” Brian drawled.

“I’m naughty? I’ve done nothing. You make eating Oreo downright pornographic.”

He laughed loudly, biting on a biscuit, leaning closer, nudging my lips with the other half of the biscuit. The chocolate goodness melted in my mouth, and then his tongue invaded my mouth and I had no idea if he was kissing me or running after pieces of Oreo. It was sexy as fuck.

This round started against the counter, with me sucking Brian off, and ended with me flat of my back on the kitchen table, legs spread in the air. Best fuck ever. Hands down.

We migrated to the couch, leaning into each other, basking in the afterglow.

Until his phone pinged. Then it pinged again. And again.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” I asked, drawing lazy circles on his leg from my position, half draped over his chest.

“Nah. It’s my email.”

“We’ll never get a quiet moment, huh?”

“It makes it more interesting…sneaking around.” He winked, kissing my forehead. “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” he shouted when his phone rang from the kitchen.

I lounged on the sofa, half listening to him talking on the phone, half dozing off.

Dating the President was a full-time job.

Some time later, I felt his fingers combing through my hair.

I opened my eyes and found Brian dressed.

“Sadly, I have to go. I wanted to stay the night again, but it seems running the country is more important than plowing your ass.”

“Priorities, sir.” I giggled, mock-saluting him.

“Twat.” He kissed me softly. “I’ll text you later.”

I nodded sleepily, walking him to my broken door. “Can you have Big and Bulky do something about this? It’s seriously not safe.”

“I’ll have a talk to him.”

After another long and heated kiss, he was gone.

I puttered around, miserable, until I decided to do something productive and paint. The next time I checked my phone, the sun was going down. I had a dozen missed notifications from WhatsApp. Daphne. Molly. Eagle.

I opened the last thread, gasping at the influx of messages.

Hey, Painter Boy! I’m missing a sock. If you find it, please return it to its other half. =)

Funny story. Plane’s out of fuel.

For some unknown reason…you’re ignoring me. Are you still upset about the door? Big and Bulky will send a team to repair it first thing tomorrow morning.

Justin? You’re starting to worry me.

Don’t make me come back to check on you!

The last message was sent little over half an hour ago.

Hey, Eagle Man! I was painting. I get in my own little world when I do it. :*

Not a second later, at the top of the screen, I noticed that Eagle was typing.

You scared the shit out of me! I thought someone broke into your place considering the door isn’t closing. Don’t you ever do this again!

Sorry? What can I do so you’ll forgive me? Phone sex? Sexting?

Sexting? What’s that?

I laughed, nearly dropping the phone. I had gotten bolder around him, so I decided to show him what it was, instead of explaining.

I miss your big hard dick fucking me so deep I can still feel you inside me the next day. I’m touching myself thinking of your tongue on my nipples.

I had gone too far, but I was curious of his response.

Fuck, Justin! You can’t say things like this. I’m having a tea party with Gus at the moment.

Ooops? Let me know when you’re all alone in bed tonight. I promise to keep you entertained. ;)

There was no response. All I could think about was Brian having a tea party with his son – cutest thing ever.

Some hours later, after I met Daphne for dinner and was back home, ready to drop, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I was ready to ignore it, but hoped it was Brian.

You were saying something about dirty talking? Work your magic, Painter Boy.