“So I want you anticipating that while you’re out today.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
Chapter 35
After he left I tried to go back to sleep, but it was useless. I was too excited to start my day of exploring Paris. So I took a shower and got dressed, then headed out.
The hotel was located next to the Élysée Palace, which was the French version of the White House, where the French President lived. I had a quick breakfast at a quaint little bistro near the hotel, using my phrase book to order an omelet and orange juice. From all the stories I had heard, I was afraid my waiter was going to be rude when he found out I was an American, but he smiled at me and patiently waited as I struggled through my order. Maybe he cut me a break because I was making an effort.
After breakfast, I strolled leisurely up the Champs-Élysées, the main tourist avenue in Paris. It was lined with quaint shops and restaurants, and I enjoyed browsing through the latest fashions. I couldn’t afford most of the items they had for sale, but I did buy a red silk scarf, because it reminded me of the one the President had used on me a week ago. Then I found a hat to match it – a wide-brimmed red sun hat that made me feel very French. I wore it out of the store, and put on my sunglasses, feeling like a spy or femme fatale in a movie as I walked around the famous Arc de Triomphe.
The sun shone brightly in a clear blue sky as I walked through the streets of Paris. It was almost like a dream come true, since I had fantasized about visiting here since I was a little girl. I say almost, because my fantasies usually involved walking these streets on the arm of a handsome man. Or sometimes meeting a cute Frenchman who took me back to his artist’s loft.
But today I walked alone, and although I knew I would be meeting my lover later tonight in our hotel room, I ached to have him beside me, sharing in these wonderful sights. I would point out something funny to him, and we would laugh together. Or I would catch him turning his head to follow a French beauty, and pretend I was upset until he took me in his arms and kissed me in the middle of the street, where everyone could see how much he loved me. We would hold hands and walk beside the Seine, just like they did in the movies.
But even my temporary melancholy was no match for the perfect Paris day. And then I reminded myself how lucky I was to have this special person in my life. It was because he was so special that we couldn’t spend days like this together. I had to share him with the world, and I knew I could be happy with that, at least for now.
I decided to wait until after lunch to visit the Eiffel Tower, and stopped at another street-corner café. Here, the waiter wasn’t as patient, and rolled his eyes when I pulled out my phrase book. What I thought I ordered wasn’t what I got, but it was delicious anyway, and I was determined not to let the guy’s attitude ruin my day.
The line for the Tower was long, and it took an hour of waiting before it was finally my group’s turn to take the elevators to the top. But it was worth the wait, and my breath caught in my throat as I looked out over the sprawling French countryside, taking in the urban vista of brown buildings and houses giving way to the green of farms, hills and forests in the distance.
I was able to pick out the Arc de Triomphe, and followed the Champs-Élysées down to our hotel, and the Élysée Palace next to it. As I stared at it, I wondered if President Remington was in there right now, thinking about me like I was thinking of him.
Returning my gaze to the French countryside stretching out for miles, I once again felt a small ache as I longed for someone to share this with. I imagined him standing behind me, hands on the railing and pressing me against it as we took in the view. My eyes would soak in the scenery as I felt him growing slightly hard, a tangible promise of what awaited us later back in our hotel room.
My reverie was broken by a feminine voice coming from beside me.
“What’s that large building down there by the river?”
I peeked over at her and saw she wasn’t talking to me, but instead the woman she was with.
“I’m not sure,” her friend replied, “Perhaps you can ask someone from around here?”
The first woman leaned over to the second and said in a low voice. “I would, but they’re all so damn rude.”
Her voice stuck in my mind. It was familiar, as if I’d heard it recently. But that was impossible. I turned to look at her.
“Here, ask her,” the friend said, nodding in my direction. The first woman turned to face me.
I found myself staring directly in the face of Senator Quinn.
My heart seemed to stop and I couldn’t breathe. She was one of the leaders of the opposition party. Her seeing me here meant disaster for the President. She was going to instantly figure out what was going on.
But to my disbelief, she stared at me a moment and said loudly, “Excuse me, Mademoiselle, but could you tell me what that building is down there?” She pointed.
I stared at her without speaking, unable to think.
“Do you speak English?” the Senator asked.
“I don’t think she does,” added the other.
My mind began to catch up, realizing she hadn’t recognized me because of the hat and sunglasses.
“That building down there,” the Senator repeated, louder this time. “Do you know what it is?”
I could feel the panic welling up. I had to say something, and it had to be French. Suddenly, the phrase book popped into my mind.
“The chicken sounds delicious. I think I’ll have that,” I said in my best attempt at French.
“That building,” the Senator said, even louder and slower. “Do you know what it is?”
“Could you direct me to the nearest public restroom?” I replied, my French sounding like I had been speaking the language for minutes.
“I don’t think she’s getting it,” the friend said.
“Thanks anyway,” the Senator shouted.
“May I please have more towels in my room?” I replied. At least that’s what I think I said.
“Thanks. Nevermind.” The Senator was pulling her friend away from me. They turned and hurried off to the other side of the tower.
I decided I was pushing my luck and headed for the elevators.
Chapter 36
I spent the rest of the afternoon in the Louvre, viewing many works of art I had only previously seen photos of. I was especially fascinated by the Egyptian section, spending hours wandering through artifacts that had been owned by Egyptian pharaohs, kings, and queens. I would have been there longer if they hadn’t shooed me out when the place closed at six.
By that time, the jet-lag had caught up to me, so I dragged myself back to the hotel, and thought about having dinner in the hotel restaurant. But I was afraid I’d run into Senator Quinn there, so I settled for room service.
Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I ate my dinner as I watched CNN to catch up on the news. It was filled with the President’s surprise visit to France, and most of the regular White-House reporters seemed upset that they weren’t given advance notice. Some were in Paris, so I assumed they had to catch a quick flight once the news broke that Remington was there.
I began to get sleepy, so I called the front desk and asked for a wake-up call at nine-thirty, which was only two hours away. I turned off the television and fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.
The ringing phone pulled me from a deep sleep, and I was disoriented as I sat up and looked around the room. When I answered the phone, a cheerful voice with a French accent told me it was nine-thirty. I realized where I was, and rolled out of bed, heading sleepily to the shower.
By the time the shower was over, I was alert and ready to go. The President’s promise of punishment came back to me, and I felt the anticipation building inside. I was toweling off when my phone rang again.
“Hello?”
“Sarah.”
“Mr. President?” My heart fell. I knew he was going to tell me he wouldn’t be back to the room until late.
“How
was your day?” he asked.
“Wonderful.”
“That’s great. The reason I’m calling is that I’m not going to get out of the dinner when I thought I was, so I won’t be back to our room until ten-thirty.”
“Ten-thirty?” My heart lifted again. “Sure, that’s fine.”
“Did you have dinner?”
“Yes, room service.”
“Wish you were here,” he said.
“And I wish you were here.”
He chuckled. “See you soon.”
“I’ll be here.”
I hung up the phone and thought about what to do with my extra half-hour. I had planned on shaving my legs before I got dressed for the President, and I went into the bathroom and looked at my razor sitting on the sink. A smile slowly spread across my lips.
Chapter 37
I was lying on the President’s bed when the room door clicked open just after ten-thirty. I was wearing a baby-doll nightie I had bought for the trip, and it featured gauzy, see-through material that showed hints of my areolas and the matching pink panties underneath. I quickly moved to my knees, holding my ass in the air as I pressed my cheek against the bedcover, holding still in my submissive position.
I heard him enter the room and stop, but since my head was turned the other way I couldn’t see what he was doing. He was quiet for a long moment, and then I heard the sound of him disrobing. A visible shudder of anticipation went through me.
I sensed him approach the bed and stand behind my upturned ass.
“Do you know what you did wrong?” he asked. His voice was hard and demanding.
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell me.”
“I acted jealous when I had no reason to.”
“That’s correct. In other words, you distrusted me.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Do you deserve to be punished?”
I shuddered again. “Yes, Mr. President.” I could feel the wetness seeping from between my labia.
He pulled up my nightie to reveal my ass. The pink panties barely covered me. His hands lightly caressed my smooth cheeks and I moaned softly, anticipating what was going to happen next.
“Are you wet for me?”
“Yes, sir.”
He pulled my panties down over my hips, and then to my knees. I felt him pause, and I smiled slightly as I realized he was seeing the change I had made. But he didn’t say anything, and continued to pull my panties completely off.
I waited for his hands to resume caressing my ass, but he surprised me by bringing one of them down sharply on my cheek. A loud retort sounded in the room, followed by my groan.
Then again in the same spot. The pleasing heat began, and I repeated my cry. He moved to the other cheek and gave me two in quick succession.
“Uhhhhh,” I moaned.
“Do you deserve more?”
“Yes, sir. Please.”
He smacked me again, harder this time. My skin burned and the heat seeped into my pussy. Then the other side, and I could picture my inflamed red ass cheek under his hand. And again, twice more, and the fire was raging now, the pain merging with the pleasure in my pussy and becoming one. If he kept this up I was going to come just from his spanks.
“Have you learned your lesson?”
“Yes, sir.”
Smack!
“Will you act that way again?”
“No, sir.”
Smack!
He placed his hands on my ass cheeks and rested his thumbs on my outer labia. Squeezing his hands, he pulled my lips apart, and I felt the head of his cock nestle into my slick opening. He continued to hold me spread wide as he pressed forward, sinking his stiff flesh into my heated core. I groaned loudly.
He seemed to go on forever as his swollen-hard flesh slid into my tender sheath. The burning of my ass cheeks combined with the stretching of my pussy to create a delightful sensation, and I felt my pleasure rising swiftly, my orgasm appearing on the horizon.
Finally, he was completely inside me, and he pressed his hips hard against my ass, lodging his cock deep. Two more slaps rang out in the quiet room, and I gasped out my pleasure.
He shifted his weight and pressed forward, and I found myself being forced to lie flat on the bed, his cock still deep inside of me as his weight pinned me to the mattress. I kept my ass tilted up, allowing his cock direct access to my pussy, and his hands rested on either side of my shoulders as his lips nuzzled through my hair to my neck.
He began to thrust, slowly at first, drawing his slick cock out from between my ass cheeks as my pussy reluctantly gave him up. Then he slid back in, going deep as his hips pressed me into the bed. I groaned from the exquisite sensation his cock was creating in me.
He slowly increased his pace, using his strength to dominate me with his cock, sliding in and out of me with urgent force. His breath was hot against my neck as he licked and kissed me, and then he grabbed a handful of my hair like a ponytail and used it to pull my head up off the bed and turn it to the side. His lips found mine, and we kissed at an angle, our tongues searching for each other.
Once again, he picked up speed, slamming his hips down against my defenseless body, sliding his thickness deep into my core. Our breathing turned harsh, and I grunted as the air was forced from me each time he thrust downward.
My climax came out of nowhere, slamming through me like a tidal wave, and I tumbled and thrashed in its wake, buffeted by the powerful waves of ecstasy. I was dimly aware I was babbling incoherently against the bedspread, my muscles convulsing and jerking uncontrollably.
Then he was with me, roaring in my ear as his orgasm ripped through him, driving me hard down into the mattress as his cock jerked and pumped. His hands slid down my arms and our fingers interlaced, gripping each other as we rode out our pleasure together.
He relaxed down on me and we gasped for oxygen as he covered me with his warmth. After a few minutes he rolled over onto his back, sliding wetly from me. He lay there with his chest rising and falling, his fingers combing gently through my hair.
I eventually found enough strength to move up on him, resting my head on his chest. I could hear his heartbeat and it made me feel safe.
His first words surprised me. “You shaved.”
I lifted my head and rested my chin on him, grinning. “Yeah.”
“What inspired you to do that?”
“You gave me an extra half-hour to get ready.”
He chuckled.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
“I love it.”
I laid my head down on him again. “How was your day?”
“Very fruitful. The trip was a success. Just a few details to iron out tomorrow, then we can go home.”
“You sure we can’t stay another week?”
He laughed again. “How about you? Did you enjoy your sightseeing?”
“Yes. It’s very beautiful here.”
“You know, this is my third visit to Paris, and I’ve yet to see any sights.”
“I would love to see them with you someday.”
He caressed my hair. “I would love that too.”
“I did have one near-disaster.”
“What happened?”
“I ran into Senator Quinn.”
He lifted his head. “You did?”
I looked up at him. “Don’t worry, she didn’t recognize me.”
He gave me a curious look, so I proceeded to tell him about my new hat, and what had happened between the Senator and me on top of the Eiffel Tower. He laughed hard when I got to the part about me trying to speak French.
“I would have loved to have been there to see that.”
“You would have enjoyed the deer-in-the-headlights look on my face.”
He laughed again.
“What are your plans for tomorrow?” he asked.
“When are we leaving?”
“We’ll probably head for the airport around three.”
“I’ll probably just do some shoppi
ng then.”
“Are you sleepy now?”
“No, I took a nap earlier. Why?”
He grinned. “Because I want to get a better look at your shaving technique.”
I laughed as he sat up and rolled me onto my back. He leaned over between my legs, and I spread my thighs to give him room. I shivered as he kissed me on my bare, soft skin, and then I groaned as his tongue slid between my labia. A few minutes later I urged him to straddle my head, and I took him into my mouth, sucking him slowly as he brought me to orgasm with his lips and tongue. After I came, I focused on his cock, taking him in and out until his body locked and he jetted his pleasure onto my tongue.
Chapter 38
In the morning, we showered together, where I bent over and held onto the towel rod as he took me hard from behind. I climaxed from his powerful thrusts, and then again as he came, pressing my pussy back against his throbbing shaft. After he dressed, he kissed me goodbye and headed out.
I had breakfast in the same place I did yesterday, and the nice waiter smiled when he recognized me. After that, I headed up the Champs-Élysées, hitting some stores I missed yesterday. I had on my hat and sunglasses, afraid I would run into Senator Quinn again.
I stopped to buy a lemonade from a street vendor, and when I turned around I bumped into a man walking the other way. I almost didn’t look at him, but he said, “Pardon me, Mademoiselle,” and momentarily stopped.
I glanced up at his face, and I froze in fear when I saw the scar on his cheek. He gave me a small smile and kept on walking, and I turned to stare at him, my eyes round as saucers.
It was the man from the park in front of my apartment. The one who had attacked me.
Chapter 39
I watched the man with the scar walk away from me down the Champs-Élysées, and I went over his face in my mind. I had no doubt it was him. Not only did he have the jagged scar running down his cheek, just as I remembered it, he also had a thin moustache and beard. It was him.
Yes, Mr President Page 16