Black President Season 2 Collection
Page 8
I laughed, before I reached out and squeezed his little penis so tight that his mouth dropped open. Saliva dripped from it; pain was visible in his evil eyes. His screech was loud, but it couldn’t be heard over the booming sound of the fireworks.
“A bitch ass nigga, Mr. McNeil. That’s who you are, and that’s what we black women call any man with a pint-sized dick who screams and acts like a bitch like you do. The only thing I’m going to fetch you is a bullet in your head. It’s coming and you’ve been warned.”
I let go of his little bone, slapped the shit out of him, and then walked away. I knew it was time for me to go, so as soon as I saw the prosecutor, Mr. Blackstone, chatting it up with a group of senators, I moved in their direction. Mr. Blackstone was a tall and slim, older black man with nerdy glasses and a thick beard. He was an Uncle Tom too, but I needed him to come through for me in a major way. If he didn’t, there were always other options. I didn’t want to go that route, because I always knew killing Mr. McNeil would swing major heat Stephen’s way. There was no question that Mr. McNeil was a formidable figure through the eyes of many in Washington. He had multiple people on his payroll, and nobody knew who those people were. That was one of the main reasons why no one in Washington could be trusted.
The second Mr. Blackstone looked my way, I waved at him. He turned his head and must’ve thought I was waving at someone behind him. Just to let him know I was waving at him, I walked up to him with the envelope still in my hand.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt, but how are you? I didn’t expect to see you here,” I said, showing every bit of my pearly white teeth.
“I didn’t expect to see you either, but I’m doing mighty fine this evening. Hope you are having a superb time too.”
“I am and thanks for asking. I would be doing so much better if I could speak to you about something very important in private. Do you have a minute or two to spare?”
He looked around; I assumed he was looking for his ugly ass wife. She was a white woman with red hair and a face that looked damaged by too many Botox injections.
“Sure,” he said. “I have a minute, but if you don’t mind, I need to go to the men’s room first.”
“Please do and take your time,” I said, cheerfully. “I’ll wait for you nearby.”
Mr. Blackstone excused himself from the other senators and me. He went to the restroom, and I waited near the door until he was finished. Almost five minutes later, he was still inside. I was ready to leave, so I opened the door to the restroom and went inside. I was lucky that no one was in there, with the exception of Mr. Blackstone. He was in one of the stalls, whistling. I knocked on the door then boldly shoved it open. He quickly pivoted with his zipper halfway down. A frown was on his face; he examined me with a frown on his face.
“What in the hell are you doing in here?” Irritation was in his voice.
I placed my finger over my lips. “Shhhh,” I said. “There’s no need to get all hyped and excited, but I have to admit that I’ve been keeping my eyes on you all night. First, I want to give you some important information I think you should know about Mr. McNeil. Look everything over and give me a call in a few days to let me know what you intend to do. At that time, maybe you and I can kind of get to know each other better. Or, we could possibly get to know each other better right now, especially since your slacks are already unzipped and part of it is already sticking out.”
Catching him off guard, I squatted and unzipped his slacks even more. He almost had a heart attack, and he panicked when I touched his penis.
“Uh, Mrs. Jefferson, please, what . . . what should I call you? Please don’t do that, unless we—”
I could only laugh to myself at his nervousness. He didn’t have to worry about me stooping low and doing anything with him. Trust and believe, I never would. I stood, pressed my body against his and zipped his slacks.
“Something down there doesn’t smell quite right, but when you clean that up, be sure to contact me. I’ll be waiting for your call. My card is inside of the envelope, and I look forward to hearing from you soon.”
I kissed his cheek, and with a wide smile on my face, I left the restroom and looked for the closest place I could find to wash my hands.
First Lady,
Raynetta Jefferson
The gala was fun. I thoroughly enjoyed being in the presence of the elite in Washington, but more than anything I was pleased that Teresa had gotten the envelope to Mr. Blackstone. She told me how she’d delivered the package to him. I couldn’t stop laughing at how she described their little encounter. Now, however, we waited to hear something from him. Two days had already passed and he hadn’t reached out to Teresa yet. We were sure we would hear something by now. I mean, how could anyone in their right mind have that kind of information and just sit on it? Teresa wondered the same thing, and I informed her more information was coming soon. There was no question that we could give the information to Stephen and let him handle it, but Stephen wanted Mr. McNeil dead. I didn’t think he would trust anyone with the information we’d had, and he would ask too many questions about where we’d gotten it from. It was best that we did things our way. Besides, if things fell apart and I somehow went down for this, Teresa would go down with me. At this point, though, we were in this together. There was no turning back, and we were willing to do whatever to make sure Mr. McNeil would spend the remainder of his years on earth behind bars.
As I was having breakfast with Teresa, a Secret Service agent informed us that Stephen was on his way back to the White House. I wiped my mouth with a napkin and dropped it on the table. Teresa guzzled down her orange juice and we both made our way outside to greet Stephen. I couldn’t wait to see him. I truly missed my husband, and we had only been sending a few text messages to each other. All he kept saying was he was resting, he was fine and he had been thinking about us. That was pretty much it.
As Marine One landed on the South Lawn, Teresa and I waited for Stephen to exit with wide smiles on our faces. She was just as happy as I was to see him, and when the door opened to Marine One, my eyes were glued to where he would soon stand. He appeared at the door, and as he made his way down the steps, I could only think dirty things to myself. His haircut was fresh, tailored blazer clung to his frame, slacks hugged his package in the right place, leather shoes had a shine, and his trench coat blew behind him as he walked. He saluted a marine who stood to his right, and as the media took photos of him, he waved with glee in his eyes. There was something about the way he looked that made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Maybe it was how well rested he looked; his joyful expression implied he was glad to be home. I was surprised when I turned to glance at Teresa and her expression was now flat.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her. “Why are you looking puzzled like that?”
At first she hesitated, but then she spoke up. “It’s a shame that I know your foolish husband better than you do. Then again, I am his mother. What I do know is this. A man only looks that refreshed and energized if he’s been smoking weed, just purchased a new car or if he’s had some very good pussy. Since Stephen doesn’t smoke weed, and he doesn’t need a new car, I’d say you’d better wipe that smile off your face and handle this shit to the best of your ability. I’m going inside to call Mr. Blackstone. That sucker hasn’t called me back yet and I’m getting worried.”
Teresa pivoted and stormed away. I watched Stephen from afar as he shook hands with everyone who reached out to him, waved at more people and had even stopped to answer a few questions from reporters. The propellers from Marine One made the wind stir around, and as Stephen finally headed my way, his trench coat continued to blow behind him. I couldn’t get the thoughts of what Teresa had said out of my mind. I wouldn’t know if her words had any validity to them, until Stephen approached me and I could search into his eyes. When he stepped forward, he wrapped one arm around my waist and kissed my cheek.
“Hello,” he said. I cocked my head back and stared at him. He was unable
to look me in the eyes and his hold around my waist didn’t last long. “You look nice.”
“So do you,” I said. “You also look rejuvenated. Are you glad to be home?”
“Of course,” was all he said. With Secret Service following closely behind us, we made our way down the West Colonnade together.
“I have three meetings scheduled today?” he said. “Maybe we can have a late dinner this evening.”
It was a little after ten in the morning. I assumed Stephen would be busy when he returned, but it was kind of disappointing that after being away for three and a half weeks, he didn’t feel obligated to spend, at least, one hour with me. I now believed every word Teresa had said. But in no way would I sweat it. One day, and in due time, he was going to regret everything. Maybe one day I would have some regrets too.
“I have a few things on my schedule as well,” I said. “So a late dinner sounds good.”
He reached for my hand and held it with his. Right before we made it to the Oval Office, he lifted my hand and kissed the back of it. “See you later,” he said.
He walked off, and when I called after him he turned around. “Welcome back,” I said. “I missed you.”
He winked at me. “Missed you too.”
That was it. I guess I was supposed to wait until later to spend time with my husband. Like hell I was. I went to the bedroom to change clothes, and after I snatched up my cell phone and purse, I went to my office. I called Alex who had reached out to me earlier to tell me he’d had some more information to give me about Mr. McNeil.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“I’m at the White House. Where are you?”
“At home, but I can meet you somewhere.”
“No. Stay right there. I’m coming over.”
“It’s not a good idea for you to come here.”
“Maybe not, but I’m coming anyway.”
I hung up the phone, and when I looked in the doorway I saw Teresa standing there gazing at me.
“I’m not going to ask who that was,” she said. “But, sometimes, us women have to do what we have to do. I’m on my way to go chat with Mr. Blackstone. The stupid fool said he didn’t know how to reach me, but I could’ve sworn I put my card in the envelope.”
“Well, keep me posted on how it goes. I may have some more information for you to share, and let’s keep our fingers crossed that this all works out in our favor.”
“I’m sure it will. Meanwhile, may I say one more thing to you before you go?”
“I’d rather you didn’t, but I know you will probably say it anyway.”
Teresa chuckled then stared at me with a straight face. “Figure out how to get him where it hurts and do to others what they do unto you. I’ll leave it there, but I do think you know what I mean.”
Without replying, I knew exactly what she meant. And after I slipped away from Secret Service during a meeting I was supposed to attend, I went to Alex’s place. He opened the door without a shirt on. The top of his jeans were unbuttoned and smooth hair was right above the good stuff. From the look in my eyes, he already knew why I was there. He slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his apartment. After he slammed the door, he pressed me against it and yanked my blouse away from my breasts. One popped out, and as Alex leaned in to tackle my nipple, I rubbed the back of his head. His hands squeezed my thighs, and with my assistance, we both lowered my lace panties to the floor. His jeans hit the floor next, and after he hiked me up to his waist, he backed away from my breast to look at me.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asked.
“Positive,” I replied then directed his head to my breasts again.
While holding my legs open in his arms, Alex sucked and massaged my breasts at the same time. He parted my moist slit with the tip of his head, before driving his thick muscle right in. It felt so good, I quickly shut my eyes. I raked my fingers through his sweaty hair, and as he aggressively took charge of my insides, my backside pounded against the door. He groaned, so did I. My breasts were getting a workout, until he backed away from them and pressed his lips against mine. I was the one who slipped my tongue into his mouth; the sweet taste made me go all in. I finally opened my eyes to look into his. They were the prettiest things I had ever seen. So was his smile, and I smiled back as his steel finally hit the mark. I gasped, pulled at his hair and yanked his head back. I was now the aggressor, and I soaked his lips with the saliva building in my mouth. Alex loved the taste. He softly bit my bottom lip and made a confession.
“I . . . I want more of you,” he whispered. “And whatever you do, please don’t stop this like you did last time.”
The look in my eyes, and the fact that my fluids had started to rain down my thighs, that confirmed he could have all of me. He carried me away from the door with my legs secured around his waist; my arms were tightened around his neck. I surely didn’t want to let go, but I had to when he carefully laid me back on the sofa. Instead of steering his muscle back in, he laid over me, taking rough bites at my neck. His tongue traveled from there to my belly button. After that, he journeyed south and slipped his tongue between my folds. I rubbed his soft hair, moaned out loudly and regretted how long I had waited to feel like this. Alex was a beast, and for the next few hours I had stepped down from my position as the first lady.
President of the United States,
Stephen C. Jefferson
Upon my return, I didn’t have time to do anything but get back to work. Andrew and I had been in touch every day. He’d already told me VP Bass and the Republicans were trying to push through legislation regarding an infrastructure bill that was loaded with more tax cuts for the wealthy. That damn sure wasn’t going to happen on my watch, so as soon as I ended my conversation with Raynetta, I made my way to the Oval Office. I went inside and saw VP Bass, along with six other Republicans sitting around talking. Everyone had a stack of clipped papers in front of them. I assumed they were discussing something pretty serious.
“I don’t want to be rude, but this meeting is over. Get out.” I held the door open for them to leave. “I have plenty of things to do and I need some privacy.”
“Mr. President, we were in a meeting,” VP Bass said. “Do you mind waiting until we’re finished?”
“I do mind, and since you failed to comprehend what I just said, let me repeat myself again. Get the fuck out. Thanks.”
VP Bass didn’t expect to see me back so soon. She had been plotting since I was away, and after she and the other senators walked out, claiming how disrespectful I was, I slammed the door behind them. I buzzed Andrew so he could come into my office, and within the hour, he was there with numerous other people from my cabinet.
As I casually strolled around the room, they listened in. “While I was away, I had time to examine more executive orders that were put in place by my predecessor. I’ve already reversed a number of those orders, but I needed time to review all of them. After careful evaluation, many more orders will be reversed. Some of that shit doesn’t even make sense, and the American people have suffered long enough.” I looked around the room and addressed each of my cabinet members who were tasked with creating a detailed outline for improving their areas within the next six months. Some people were able to relay their plan to me, many others like head of the Department of Education, head of the Department of Housing and Urban Development, and head of the Department of Justice weren’t able to provide specifics.
“By tomorrow,” I warned. “You all have until then to show me an outline or a detailed plan for improvement. If I don’t see those plans, please be prepared to turn in your resignation letters. We can’t afford to sit around and do nothing any longer. Not when our educational systems around this country are failing our children, and not when our justice department is still broken as hell. Too many things are in disarray, and instead of pointing fingers at the previous administration, let’s get to work and make some real differences.”
Everyone nodded. I had already spe
nt nearly three hours discussing the changes I wanted to see, so I dismissed everyone and advised them to get to work. I had some work to do myself, and to be honest, it felt good to be back. Being away for a while helped. No, being in Hell House helped. After things settled down, I was able to have real discussions with a few Americans who supported me and who were all rooting for me. They let me know what they expected from me as their president, and the whole experience opened my eyes. The unfortunate thing was I had to bring down one person; someone who plotted to cause major damage in the house. Other than that, it was all good. I sat at my desk in deep thought about another thing that had happened—that maybe shouldn’t have happened. But from the moment I’d entered Hell House, I suspected she and I would find ourselves in situations like we did. She had no idea what those moments did for me, and sometimes, all I needed was good conversation and sex that came with no attachments.
My phone buzzed and interrupted my thoughts. It was my secretary.
“Your mother is here to see you. Should I allow her to clear Secret Service and send her in?”
I didn’t have much time on my hands, but I figured a few minutes with my mother wouldn’t hurt. “Sure. Tell her to come in. The door is unlocked.”
I looked at the door, and when my mother came in there was no smile on her face. She didn’t appear happy to see me; I could tell there was something on her mind. I stood as she walked over to my desk.
“Welcome back,” she said. “I know you don’t wish to hear this, but your marriage is so messy. More so you, Stephen. The moment I saw you I could tell that you—”
I quickly cut her off. “My marriage is none of your business. And to be truthful, nothing that I do is your business, so you should learn to stay out of it.” I sat on the edge of my desk with my arms crossed. “Have you heard anything from Joshua or Ina?”