Yes We Can || Obama/Wentz || NC-17
Title - "Yes We Can"
Author - runthegamut
Pairing - Obama/Wentz
Rating - NC-17
Word Count - 687
Summary - Barack Obama loves our country. Pete Wentz ~loves Barack Obama.
Disclaimer - THIS IS SO FAKE. SO. SO. SO FAKE.
A/N's - I have no idea why I wrote this or why you people let me. As suggested by chaosmanor, this is ~satire. Please do not think I write like this. This is intentionally bad.
Barack could still hear the frenzied cheers of the crowd as he walked off stage, straightening his tie as he listened to advisors whisper in his ear. His eyes serious and determined, he gave a curt nod and headed down the hall, being bustled off to his next campaign stop. "Just a minute," he mumbled to his aide as he signaled toward the restroom. Two secret service men stepped on either side of the door as he went in, alone.
Barack walked to the sink and washed his hands, looking down as the soap lathered between his fingers. As he washed it off and dried his hands, he gave a look in the mirror and noticed a figure behind him. He was diminutive and staring intently at Barack's reflection. The candidate turned, startled, and saw the man with the messy bangs and smudged eyeliner. "Pete," he whispered, voice breathy. "I've been waiting for you."
Pete wasted no time stepping up to close the distance between them, pressing Barack up against the bathroom counter, the older man reaching back to steady himself. Pete fumbled with the closure on Barack’s pants, shoving them down his thighs, desperate to get Barack's hard cock in his mouth. As Pete sunk to his knees, he looked up at the candidate through heavy lids. "I serve at the pleasure of the president," he murmured before hungrily downing his cock in one swift move.
Barack looked down at Pete, his fingers tangling in his angled hair as he watched his manhood disappear between Pete’s lips. His grip tightened in the younger man’s hair, but his body remaining still… focused… stoic. Pete wrapped his hand around the base of Barack’s cock and, holding him steady as his head bobbed over the swarthy member.
Pete’s warm mouth sliding over him was pleasurable, but it wasn’t enough. Pete could sense it too, and he wiggled his tongue across the underside of Barack’s shaft, trying to bring the statesman off. Barack’s fingers slid in and out of Pete’s hair as Pete looked up at him, his eyes pleading for an indication of how make him come. Pete wanted to give Barack the kind of satisfaction he knew Barack would give America.
Barack knew what he needed-what they both needed. He cleared his throat and began in a low voice. “Change will not come,” he said in a steady tone, “if we wait for some other person or some other time.” Pete let out a moan as he fumbled at the front of his own pants and hastily jerked his own hardened cock out and began stroking.
Barack felt the ache low in his gut now, the tension rising in his body. “We are the ones we've been waiting for,” he managed in the same strong voice as Pete let out a whimper, his swollen lips travelling up and down the length of Barack’s cock as his hand rubbed over his own pre-cum slickened dick. “We are the change that we seek.”
With a yelp, Pete came in his hand, his body shivering and shaking at the force of his orgasm. Barack took a deep breath and came silently down Pete’s throat. Both men remained still for a time, Pete panting to catch his breath while Barack remained propped against the counter, eyes closed.
Finally, Barack straightened himself, sheathing his manhood and zipping up the front of his trousers. Pete slowly pulled himself up from his knees and tucked himself back into his skin-tight, designer jeans. Wiping away a drop of cum from the corner of his mouth, he looked at Barack with longing eyes.
“Can we… can we do this again?” Pete asked, his voice filled with trepidation.
Barack gave Pete a smile before knocking the knuckles of his fist firmly against Pete’s fist. “Yes! We! Can!” he shouted, smiling wide.
Pete returned the smile before ducking his head. As Barack Obama walked out of the men’s room, head held high, Pete felt his heart twitter. A fist bump was a sign of love. Pete signed happily, knowing Barack loved him as much as he loved America.
OMG YOU GUYS. The best part of this is this manip artisticmuddle made for me:
So much love...
Author - runthegamut
Pairing - Obama/Wentz
Rating - NC-17
Word Count - 687
Summary - Barack Obama loves our country. Pete Wentz ~loves Barack Obama.
Disclaimer - THIS IS SO FAKE. SO. SO. SO FAKE.
A/N's - I have no idea why I wrote this or why you people let me. As suggested by chaosmanor, this is ~satire. Please do not think I write like this. This is intentionally bad.
Barack could still hear the frenzied cheers of the crowd as he walked off stage, straightening his tie as he listened to advisors whisper in his ear. His eyes serious and determined, he gave a curt nod and headed down the hall, being bustled off to his next campaign stop. "Just a minute," he mumbled to his aide as he signaled toward the restroom. Two secret service men stepped on either side of the door as he went in, alone.
Barack walked to the sink and washed his hands, looking down as the soap lathered between his fingers. As he washed it off and dried his hands, he gave a look in the mirror and noticed a figure behind him. He was diminutive and staring intently at Barack's reflection. The candidate turned, startled, and saw the man with the messy bangs and smudged eyeliner. "Pete," he whispered, voice breathy. "I've been waiting for you."
Pete wasted no time stepping up to close the distance between them, pressing Barack up against the bathroom counter, the older man reaching back to steady himself. Pete fumbled with the closure on Barack’s pants, shoving them down his thighs, desperate to get Barack's hard cock in his mouth. As Pete sunk to his knees, he looked up at the candidate through heavy lids. "I serve at the pleasure of the president," he murmured before hungrily downing his cock in one swift move.
Barack looked down at Pete, his fingers tangling in his angled hair as he watched his manhood disappear between Pete’s lips. His grip tightened in the younger man’s hair, but his body remaining still… focused… stoic. Pete wrapped his hand around the base of Barack’s cock and, holding him steady as his head bobbed over the swarthy member.
Pete’s warm mouth sliding over him was pleasurable, but it wasn’t enough. Pete could sense it too, and he wiggled his tongue across the underside of Barack’s shaft, trying to bring the statesman off. Barack’s fingers slid in and out of Pete’s hair as Pete looked up at him, his eyes pleading for an indication of how make him come. Pete wanted to give Barack the kind of satisfaction he knew Barack would give America.
Barack knew what he needed-what they both needed. He cleared his throat and began in a low voice. “Change will not come,” he said in a steady tone, “if we wait for some other person or some other time.” Pete let out a moan as he fumbled at the front of his own pants and hastily jerked his own hardened cock out and began stroking.
Barack felt the ache low in his gut now, the tension rising in his body. “We are the ones we've been waiting for,” he managed in the same strong voice as Pete let out a whimper, his swollen lips travelling up and down the length of Barack’s cock as his hand rubbed over his own pre-cum slickened dick. “We are the change that we seek.”
With a yelp, Pete came in his hand, his body shivering and shaking at the force of his orgasm. Barack took a deep breath and came silently down Pete’s throat. Both men remained still for a time, Pete panting to catch his breath while Barack remained propped against the counter, eyes closed.
Finally, Barack straightened himself, sheathing his manhood and zipping up the front of his trousers. Pete slowly pulled himself up from his knees and tucked himself back into his skin-tight, designer jeans. Wiping away a drop of cum from the corner of his mouth, he looked at Barack with longing eyes.
“Can we… can we do this again?” Pete asked, his voice filled with trepidation.
Barack gave Pete a smile before knocking the knuckles of his fist firmly against Pete’s fist. “Yes! We! Can!” he shouted, smiling wide.
Pete returned the smile before ducking his head. As Barack Obama walked out of the men’s room, head held high, Pete felt his heart twitter. A fist bump was a sign of love. Pete signed happily, knowing Barack loved him as much as he loved America.
OMG YOU GUYS. The best part of this is this manip artisticmuddle made for me:
So much love...