by Hamel, B. B.
My whole body arches, aches. Desire, pleasure, it pushes me into a new place.
“Fuck, Daddy,” I moan.
“That’s right,” he says. “I know what you need. I know how to make you moan.” He bites my lip, grips my hair tight, slides his fingers deeper.
I groan, spreading my legs wider. I forget where we are, who I’m with. I don’t think about the priceless desk under my ass.
I just move my hips, needing the pleasure, the intense desire.
He kisses my chest, fingers pumping in and out, my hips moving in circles.
I’m not with the President. I’m not in the Oval Office.
I’m not on the Resolute desk.
I’m with my Daddy.
I’m getting what I need from my Daddy.
He kisses my lips again and pushes me back onto my elbows. I stare as he drops to his knees and slowly pulls my panties off, stuffing them into one of his drawers.
“For later,” he says, stepping back and unbuckling his belt. I watch as he takes off his pants and his boxer briefs, taking his big, fat cock in his fist, slowly stroking himself.
I’m aching for him as I arch my back. He presses his cock against me, opening my pussy wide, and slowly slips himself in deep.
I gasp as I take him. He’s so damn thick, so damn wide. I groan as he grinds his hips, fucking me nice and slow, getting me used to his size again.
He puts his two fingers in my mouth as he thrusts deep. “Taste yourself,” he says as I lick his fingers clean.
I moan with his fingers in my mouth, sucking them, licking them. I don’t mind my own taste.
It actually makes me that much more excited.
He starts to fuck me faster, one hand on my hips, the other in my hair. I spread my legs wide, taking him deeper. He grins against my pussy, my clit, filling me completely.
I can’t help myself. Moans escape my lips. I know I should be quiet, but it’s impossible. All I want is for him to keep fucking me, keep pushing me, closer and closer.
I gasp, moving my hips. I buck against him as he grabs my hair, pulling me close to him, kissing me deep. I can feel sweat on my skin now as he fucks me faster. I’m dripping wet and he slides so easily in and out, pumping and grinding.
I groan, needing more. He bites my lip, pulls my hair. He wraps his other hand around my throat, pushing slightly, making me groan.
“Fuck, Daddy,” I gasp.
“You’re all mine, you know that? Every inch of your body. Every inch of your skin.”
I groan as he keeps fucking me. “I know,” I say. “Every inch.”
“When I’m done with your pussy, and you’ve come nice and hard on my fat cock, I’m going to fill your ass up. I’m going to fill you and come deep inside.”
“Fuck,” I gasp, looking into his eyes. He’s serious, I can tell. “I don’t think… I don’t know. You’re so big.”
“Every inch,” he reminds me. “Every single inch.”
I groan and nod. “Fuck me,” I beg. “Please. Keep going.”
He moves faster, grinding and thrusting. I roll my hips, pushing tight against him with my arms. I can feel my clit against his body, his cock lodged deep inside my pussy.
Pleasure blooms all through me. Even the scary idea of his monstrous cock inside of my ass just makes me that much more excited.
And having him come inside of me drives me wild.
I’ve never had anyone fuck me in the ass before. I’ve never felt it before.
I should be afraid. But he just makes me excited for absolutely anything.
He pulls me off the desk suddenly, turning me around. I face forward, bent over, as he slaps my ass hard.
“Shit,” I gasp, but I don’t have long to think about it. He presses his cock back inside, grabbing my hips.
He fucks me hard from behind. As he fills me, I feel his finger tease my ass before sliding inside.
I groan. I move my hips. I let him finger my ass as he fucks my pussy, nice and deep and rough. I work my hips, backing up against him, pleasure blooming all through me.
“Just a taste, little Maggie,” he whispers. “Just a taste of my big cock in your tight little ass. That’s what you like, right? You want me to fill you up?”
“I want you inside me, Daddy,” I gasp. “Every single inch of you.”
“That’s right.” He grabs my hair with his other hand, pulls back. I move my ass faster, back arched.
He fucks me rough, merciless. I’m sweating, groaning, my mind completely blank except for pleasure. I can’t feel anything but pure desire.
I can’t think of anything but my President Daddy fucking my pussy, my tight ass. He keeps thrusting, moving harder, grinding and taking me deep.
I groan, moving back against him. I know I can’t take much more. I’m so fucking close.
I grip the desk. I hold on tight. I move my hips faster, grinding, moving, pleasure blooming, my eyes closed, my mouth open.
He pulls my hair. He slaps my ass. I know I’m close. “Come for Daddy, Maggie,” he whispers in my ear.
That’s all I needed to hear. The orgasm slowly overtakes me, starting off as a tensing, a tightening, before resolving into an explosive pleasure that wracks every inch of my skin.
I’m shaking, groaning, a mess of pleasure and need. I’m like a puddle at his feet, but he’s not done with me.
As I finish, he slowly slides his cock back out, a smile on his lips.
“That’s a good girl,” he says, turning me around, pushing me to my knees. “Now get my cock nice and wet.”
I take him in my mouth, sucking him fast and deep. He groans and I lick every inch, covering him with my spit. I take him into my throat, gag, my own hand between my legs, teasing myself.
He pulls me back to my feet, turns me around, pushing me down. He spreads my ass open and I feel his tongue lick me, top to bottom, before his cock presses against me.
I relax as much as I can as he slowly slides himself inside of me.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “God damn. You’re so fucking tight.”
“Oh, shit, Daddy.” Pain lances through me. I grip the desk.
He leans over me, kisses my lips. “Relax. Let me do the work.”
I take a breath and relax. He slides himself deeper and I take him. I feel so full as he slowly starts to fuck me.
I take him deep into my ass. I love how he groans, moans my name. I move my hips, encouraging him, needing it.
He fucks me faster, deeper. I look over my shoulder and meet his eyes.
That seems to push him over the edge. He cups my breasts and thrusts his cock deep into my ass. I can feel him come, filling my ass up to the brim.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh, fucking god damn, Maggie.”
I can’t help but smile as he slides himself out of me. He collapses back into his chair and pulls me down into his lap.
“I bet you’re the first woman to get your ass fucked on this desk,” he says, kissing me.
“I bet you’re right,” I say. “Then again, Presidents are usually disgusting, horny old men.”
He makes a face. “Old?”
I grin. “That’s the part you’re offended by?”
“I am disgusting and horny. Can’t deny that. But I’m not old, not yet.”
“You’re not old.” I kiss him softly. “Daddy.”
He grins, hand in my hair, and pulls me tight against him.
We sit like that for a while, just breathing together. Eventually, we get dressed, although he keeps my panties in his desk drawer. “Just in case I feel like smelling you,” he says.
I know I have to get going. It’s late, and I’ve been in here for two hours already. Instead, we drift to the couch and sit together.
He asks about what I’ve been up to. We don’t talk about him much. He seems more interested in what I’ve been doing.
So I tell him everything, from my work life to what I’m watching on Netflix. It’s surprisingly comfortable, and considering the President j
ust came in my ass over the Resolute desk, it’s surprisingly… normal.
“Oh, before I forget,” he says after maybe a half hour of chatting. “I’m making a speech on the Senate floor in a few days.”
I blink, surprised. “You are?”
“About healthcare.”
That straight up startles me. “What?”
He takes a breath and nods. “It’s time, Maggie. I know the polling isn’t great, and you’re coming up with some educational materials, but… it’s time I start talking about it.”
I stare at him. “I don’t know,” I say finally. “Are you sure?”
“Not at all,” he admits. “But I’ve gotten this far by following my instincts. So I’m going to keep doing that and hope my instincts don’t betray me.”
I stare into his eyes. I feel overwhelmed in this moment. All I can do is kiss him.
He kisses me back.
Not long later, I leave his office, my head spinning, my panties still in his desk drawer.
12
Adam
I look out at the austere and serious faces staring back at me, at the white-haired old assholes that compose the Senate, and I wish I could tell them all to go fuck themselves.
A bunch of old bastards in the pocket of lobbyists.
They’re barely politicians.
The poorest guy in this room is still worth twenty times what an average person makes in a year. And they’re supposed to represent this country.
I grip the lectern. I stare at the room. I know what they’re going to say about this speech, but I don’t care. I’ve heard it all before.
They don’t want Medicare For All. Not because it’ll actually be good for people. Not because other countries have already proven that universal healthcare is the only logical and humane way forward, that guaranteeing healthcare as a right is the duty of any civilized country, but because it’ll cost them money.
Personally. It’ll cost them, personally, money. Not the government, not the people.
Them.
Here’s the thing. Lobbyists pay their bills. It’s fucking public bribery, is what it is. And these bastards are being lobbied like crazy by big insurance companies that don’t want to see the world turn against them.
But I’m going to change all that.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Senate,” I begin, staring out at their faces. “I am here to talk about a right every man, woman, and child deserves. Not a privilege, not a thing that will bankrupt people, but a right. Ladies and gentlemen, I speak of healthcare.”
I can already see the eyes rolling. I can already hear the groans.
Idealist. Socialist. I know what they’ll say.
It’s too expensive. It won’t work in America.
Death panels! Poor care! Long lines! No more innovation!
Lies, every single one of them.
As I speak, I can feel them slowly turn on me. I can feel them thinking with their wallets. As I tell them how healthcare has to be universal, guaranteed by the government, I hear some booing. I hear some hissing.
It does not go well.
I knew it wouldn’t. I mean, I might as well have gotten up there and told them that there should be term limits for senators, which I do believe, by the way.
I basically told them that I want to see them all poorer. I basically told them to go sit on a rusty nail and fuck themselves with it.
When I finish, and the Senate finishes with their backhanded clapping that barely drowns out the booing, I leave the floor. My security detail flanks me as I head out into the hall.
Out into the rush and flood of waiting reporters.
I step up to the microphone and I start answering questions.
“Are you a socialist, President Clark?”
“No.”
“Do you want to bankrupt the country?”
“No.”
“Won’t people be waiting in long lines?”
“Of course not.”
I stare at them and I hate them just as much. They parrot back these stupid arguments, because they don’t know any better.
“President Clark,” Linda Torres says, stepping up in my face. Camera flashes go off.
I’m angry. I hate the world. I wish they’d see the vision of the future that I have, how this can save so many people.
“Why has Maggie Thomas been sneaking into the Oval Office late at night?”
I’m taken aback. I stare at her, eyes wide for a second. I’m not sure that I heard the question right.
This fucking shit again.
I thought Charles buried that already.
But apparently not.
Apparently, she knows something new.
“Excuse me?” I ask suddenly.
Everyone’s dead silent.
“Maggie Thomas, a member of your polling staff, has allegedly been sneaking into the Oval Office late at night, according to my sources. I’ve brought this up to you before, Mr. President. Do you want to comment on this?”
I blink. I don’t move.
Who the fuck told her that?
Nobody else knows, not even my secretary, not even Charles.
Nobody knows, except for the Secret Service. And they’re sworn to secrecy. It’s in their fucking name.
Too bad the Secret Service is made up of people, and people fuck up.
Just like last time. Only the Secret Service knew.
It’s crystal clear to me now.
We have a fucking leak.
“We’ve been working on healthcare together,” I finally manage to say. “As you know, she’s a talented young staffer. I thought I cleared this up already, Linda.”
Wrong move. I should’ve fucking denied, and I know it as soon as the words leave my lips. Linda’s eyes light up.
She wasn’t fucking sure.
“So you confirm that you’re still seeing her?”
“Like I said. Maggie is a talented pollster, and she’s been getting data for me on healthcare implementations. We’ve been working late because I’ve been busy with the current crisis in Pakistan during the day. As it turns out, Linda, the President has to work pretty hard at all hours of the day and night.”
The press corps laughs at that, and I quickly take a new question, moving back to healthcare. But I can see the tightness in Linda’s eyes.
She fucking knows.
I don’t know how much, but she knows something’s not right.
And she’s not going to stop until she digs it all up. Every ugly fucking detail.
God damn it.
If it had been any other reporter, I wouldn’t worry too much. News moves fast and most reporters forget about this sort of stuff. But not Linda.
She has a reputation. She’s dogged, intense. She never backs down when there’s a whiff of news.
I finish the questions and leave soon after. My security detail comes with me, but I suddenly don’t feel so safe around them.
My mind’s buzzing. Ramirez? Someone else I’m not sure about?
Charles joins me as we head back to the White House. I don’t know where he even came from, but he materializes out of thin air.
“It’s almost like we’ve had this discussion before,” he says.
I stop and turn to him. “Find the leak,” I say.
He frowns. “How?”
“Someone on my security detail has been talking to Linda. Find out who and get rid of him. Do you hear me? One week, or you’re finished.”
He stares at me, eyes hard.
I stare back. I’m not fucking blinking.
I’m angry as hell.
“I’ll get it done,” he grunts, and heads off.
I nod and start back toward my office.
I have work to do. Even if there is a fucking traitor on my staff.
13
Maggie
I don’t know which is bigger news: Adam talking about universal healthcare on the Senate floor, or his admission that I’ve been seeing him in secret, late-night, off-the-books m
eetings.
It’s madness. My phone blows up again, Roger glares at me, even Iris seems impressed.
“So, is it true?” she asks me, crouching down next to my desk.
“No,” I hiss, though I hate myself for lying.
“Oh, come on. It looks pretty bad. I mean, that first time, yeah, it was work. But you’re still going in there?”
“It’s for work,” I say, sighing. “Seriously, Iris. I’ve been working on the healthcare stuff with him. You know that.”
“I know. But still. He’s…”
I wave my hand at her. “He’s hot. I get it.”
She grins. “So nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“Fine, be that way. Don’t tell me.” She shrugs and walks off.
I sit at my desk and I try to do my work. I try, and I fail, but at least I try.
Everyone leaves for the day. I stay seated, not moving. Eventually, Roger stops by.
“You should go home,” he says pointedly.
“I have more work to do.” I meet his gaze coolly.
He frowns and sighs. “Listen, Maggie. I don’t know what you’re caught up in, but if there’s something, uh, bad going on, and you need help…” He trails off awkwardly.
It takes me a second to realize that he’s offering to help me if the President is taking advantage of me.
I soften toward him instantly. That’s no small accusation, and no small offer.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Honestly. It’s okay.”
He shrugs. “Sure, sure. Well, good night.”
He walks off. I sit there, staring after him, and shake my head.
What a crazy freaking day.
But of course, it’s not over. I stay at my desk, distracting myself with a book. I’m not going to get any work done now, and I’m not going to pretend.
My phone rings right around nine. This time, it’s not his secretary.
It’s just him, plain old him.
“Come see me,” he whispers.
“Where?”
“Residence. Do you remember how you got in last time?”