by MK Moore
When I wake the next morning, I am alone. If it weren’t for the ache in my pussy, I’d have thought it was a dream. I feel different. Like nothing will ever be the same again. My hand absently rubs my belly. Could his seed have already taken hold? God, I’ve never wanted anything like I crave to have his baby.
I should probably be ashamed that I slept with a man for the first time the day after my father died, but I am not. We all grieve in our own way and I needed Gavin more than I can say. My father would have understood about last night. It isn’t every day I fall in love. It might be crazy but that is exactly what it is.
Looking over at the clock, I see it is already seven-thirty. I reluctantly get out of bed, take a quick shower, and dress in a black pantsuit. I am in mourning after all. Putting on my favorite Louboutin’s and with Cardi B.’s song in my head about bloody shoes, I open the door. In the hallway is Crystal who is arguing with Mason. It looks heated, but Mason notices me over Crystal’s head.
“Good morning, Madam President. Crystal, we’ll talk later.” She just nods and Mason heads down the hallway in the opposite direction.
“Good morning, Trista. Here is your iced coffee. Light and sweet. You have two meetings today. One at 9:30, with The Bishop of Norlyn. He wants to express his condolences on behalf of the Bishops of Canterbury and York.”
The Established Church here is the Church of Norlyn. Based on the Anglican teachings of the Church of England. Even though we are outside the United Kingdom and not dependent on the crown, Anglican has been our religion for hundreds of years.
“Hi Crystal. Good morning.” I say as I take my first delicious sip of the nectar of the gods. “The other meeting?”
“The Vice Chancellor. At 10:30. His secretary wouldn’t tell me what it is in regard to though. I assume your father, but why wouldn’t he just say that?”
“Ugg. I hate that man.” I say with distaste.
James Cornwell is a slimy bugger and makes my skin crawl. I’ve tried my best to never be alone with him.
“His secretary is no better. Jared is creepy as all get out.” She says, shuddering.
“Damn. What’s going on with Mason?” I ask as we reach my office. I hate that her office is two floors away and she is going to have to run about whenever I need her. I am going to have to fix that. There is room to the left of this one that just has books in it. That will do nicely.
“Uh, nothing exactly.” She says, blushing.
“But you want there to be?” I ask with a mischievous smile on my face.
“Is it that obvious? He is sex on a stick and I’d do anything to be his girl.” She doesn’t realize that Mason already thinks she is and I don’t say anything about it. I’ll let her figure it out.
“Oh gosh, Trista, that was completely improper. I apologize.”
“No apologies needed. What is a little gossip between friends.” I say laughing.
“I guess you are right. Call me if you need me and I will let you know when Bishop Adrian arrives.” She waves and leaves the room.
Sitting at my desk, I call Mason and ask him to come to my office.
When he arrives, he does the traditional bow thing, that I hate. Again.
“Mason. I need Miss Jones’ office moved to the little library next door. All the stuff in there can go down there. I need it done today and I want you to help her. Edmund and Trevor can do the heavy lifting, if any. I think there is a desk in there now.”
“Yes, ma’am. I will get on it right away.” He bows and leaves again.
There is no harm in putting them together anyway I can. If he is as caveman as I think, there is no way he will let either footman near her.
The meeting with the Bishop is straightforward and he will be presiding over the funeral. Meeting with him reminds me I have not seen my father yet. After he leaves, I head down to the State Room.
The footman clears everyone out, so I am alone with him. I see my larger than life father lying there. The tears flow as I hold his lifeless hand. I pray that he has found my mother and they are happy together again.
I am not sure how long I stand there but a throat clearing brings me back to the present, while knowing this is the last time I will see him. His funeral is tomorrow morning at ten. I look up to find Gavin there. He takes my hand as I kiss my father’s cold forehead.
“Goodbye, Daddy. I am going to do my best to run this country and make you proud. I love you. Tell Mama too.”
Gavin pulls me out into the hallway and holds me.
“Crystal sent me. Cornwell is here. Demanding an audience with you..”
I wipe my tears and take a deep breath and walk back to my office. He is there. I suppose he is cute, but I know what an asswipe he is. I leave Gavin outside with the vice chancellors bodyguard and plaster my fake smile on, while leading him into my office and close the door.
“Mr. Cornwell. Thanks for stopping by. What can I help you with?” I say as I sit behind my desk and gesture for him to take a seat, which he doesn’t.
“Little Trista, all grown up.” He says while leering at me. Ew.
“Ms. Armstrong or Ma’am will be acceptable. Do not address me so informally again.”
“Of course, my apologies, Ma’am.” He sneers.
“As I asked before, what can I help you with?”
“I offer my condolences on the passing of your father. So young.” The way he’s looking at me, I can’t tell if he is talking about me or my father.
“Thanks.” I say, slowly.
“Now, you are all alone in the world and without protection. You need a husband. I spoke to parliament and they all agree. I humbly offer to… ah...fill the position.” He isn't even looking at my face. My tits aren’t going to answer him.
I stare at him with my mouth slightly ajar, before I forget my manners and burst out laughing. He isn’t amused. I sober up quickly.
“Little girls shouldn’t tempt their masters.” He yells as he leans down over my desk and puts his face level with mine. His hands snake up my arms and my repulsion, is immediate. He squeezes me very hard and angry little bits of spittle are flying at me. He leans closer as if he’s going to kiss me. This pisses me off. No one talks to me like that. I jerk out of his grasp and I wipe my cheek off, while standing up I hit my hidden panic button along the edge of the desk.
“Excuse me? Have you lost your mind? Get out of my office before I have you thrown out.” I point to the door.
“I’ll be back, little girl. And you’ll be begging me to marry you.”
“Doubtful. She is already taken.” I hadn’t noticed Gavin come in the office; followed by Beckson Graham, who used to be on my detail at Brown. He was promoted to the vice chancellors detail about four years ago. He is beautiful dark-skinned man, with gorgeous dreads that are shoulder length. He is ridiculously tall and lean. During my time at college, I got to know him well.
“Fucking the help already, Trista? You may just make a fine politician yet.” He says laughing.
“Sir. We should go.” Beckson says. Once Cornwell is out in the hallway, he continues, “Ma’am, I am sorry about your father and this jackal. I’ve requested a transfer back off his detail, but I am waiting on a response. Try to enjoy the rest of your day.” He says, with a quick bow and leaves.
I am shaking when I look over at Gavin. He looks ready to kill someone and if that isn’t hot I don’t know what is.
Chapter Seven
Gavin
He tried to kiss my woman. I saw all of it on the closed-circuit monitoring system, which is set up on my phone. Oh hell no. When I entered her office, she looked scared. Then it morphed into anger and she stood up for herself. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to knock this asshole into next week, but I don’t do that.
I gather her into my arms and kiss the shit out of her instead. She is rocking some kind, of Agent Scully from the X-Files pantsuit and is hot as fuck in it. Her spiked heels make her look taller, but I know the truth. She fits me like a glove. I might be a
nerd, sue me.
“Are you ok, Trista?” I ask after pulling away from her sexy mouth.
“Yeah. Just a little shaken up. What is wrong with that man?”
“I don’t know baby, but I think it is best for me to always be in the room with you.”
“I don’t disagree, Gav.”
“Baby, are you done for the day?” I ask. I cannot be without her anymore today.
“Yes. That was my last meeting for today,” She replies.
There is a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
“Trista, I am all settled in next door.” Crystal says. She looks as if she is pissed, though. Her French braid from earlier is in shambles. It is still in, but thoroughly messy. My buddy Mason is so in love with this girl. I wonder what he did to piss her off this time?
“Mason helped you out?” Trista asks. I smile because I am sure I know what kind of help he provided.
“Uh, yeah. He did.” She says blushing.
“Ok, good. I am out for the rest of the day. You can take the rest of the day off too.”
“Thank you. See you guys in the morning.” She turns and leaves. I wonder if she knows her skirt is on backwards. Probably not.
I go and lock the door behind her and walk Trista backwards to her desk. Lifting her up so she is sitting on top of it; her legs automatically go around my waist. I kiss her while trailing my fingers on her cheek, before I grip her face and pull her closer to me.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Trista. You smell like peaches and your skin is soft and warm. I want you to burn for me.”
I pull her blouse over her head and wince when I see the bruises that are forming on her upper arms. She even bruises like a peach. I lean down and place little kisses on them. I want to erase his touch from her skin. Her delicate skin is too good for the likes of that animal.
“I do burn for you Gav and I need you. Please give me what I want.”
“Give you what?” I demand.
“Your cock. Your seed. Your heart. Give it all to me.” She begs me mindlessly as she runs her hands over my shirt covered chest.
“It’s all yours. Every fiber of my being is yours.” I vow to her and mean it.
She opens my belt first and then pants, making them fall to my ankles. I was late this morning causing me to go commando. Returning the favor, I open her pants and pull them along with her barely their panties off her, leaving those fucks me heels on. I can see how wet she is, but I cannot resist dipping a finger through her creamy pussy. Her moan sends even more blood to my cock. I am so hard, precum is dripping to the floor.
“Do it. Take it.” She pants. With her on the edge of the desk and her legs wrapped around me, it is the perfect height for me to push inside of her. I slide each inch, agonizingly slow into her. Once I am fully sheathed, with my balls resting on her ass, I pull back out. After doing this several times, she’s finally had enough of the torture. Her heels dig into my ass as she spurs me forward. “Stop teasing me, please.”
Every rough thrust, brings those heels back into contact with my ass. My arms are looped around her neck, which is forcing her to scrunch her body. She’s takes my cock so perfectly. I am a lucky man.
“Is this little pussy sore?” I manage to grit out.
“No, its full. I am going to cum.” She shouts at me.
Damn. This woman. She is bringing me to the edge.
“Fuck. Yes. Cum for me. Cum on my cock.”
When she does, I unload an obscene amount of cum into her. I pull out but use my fingers to keep my release where it belongs. After a few minutes, I remove them and bend down to pull my pants back up. I then help her to stand, before I kneel to help put hers back on.
There is no way I cannot help placing a kiss on her neatly trimmed mound. When she moans, I lift one of her legs over my shoulder and make her cum a second time with my mouth. Her screams have made her pretty voice hoarse and it makes me feel proud. I finish helping her dress and stand back up.
“Let me take you to dinner tonight.” I say.
“Of course! Where do you want to go?”
“South Norlyn. There is a crab shack that I think you’ll like.” I say. My parents own it.
“Is that where you are from?” SoNo is where all the young people hang out. The beach is there, as well as all the clubs and hot restaurants.
“Yep, born and raised. I joined the police service when I was seventeen. They said I was better suited to this. I cannot say I hate them for that. It brought me to you.”
“Aw you are so sweet. Is this ok to wear? Or should I change?”
“You look perfect. My parents cannot wait to meet you.”
“Your parents?”
“Yes. They own the restaurant.”
“Ok.” She says as she tries to fix her hair. The hair I just messed up.
“Don’t worry about it. They already love you.”
“Not the real me.” She says.
“I’ve told them all about you.” I say as we head down to the garage. My car, if you can call it that, is a beater. But I have and live on a civil servant’s salary. For the first time, I am ashamed that I don’t have nice things to impress her with. As usual she surprises me, by hopping up and down.
“You have a 1970 Ford Torino?” Her grin is huge and contagious.
“Yes. It’s not in the best shape though.” It needs a paint job and a tune up but seeing it through her eyes helps a bit.
“Oh my God! Let me drive, please.” I arch an eyebrow. “I know how.” She finishes.
“You can drive a manual transmission?”
“Of course, I can. Let me drive. Please.” She bats her eyes at me and I am unable to help, but hand over my keys. She jumps into the driver's seat and starts her up. “Fuck yes. That’s sexy.”
See what I mean by surprises. I only laugh. We get to the restaurant and my sister is there too, which is a surprise. Trisha-Lynn just dropped out of college and my parents are pissed at her. My mom must have called and told her I was bringing Trista tonight. Before dinner is over, Trisha-Lynn has a new job. As Crystal’s assistant. I think it is just, so they can hang out all the time. I shake my head.
Chapter Eight
Gavin
In the morning, I remember it is the day of Tristan’s funeral. I need to report for duty at nine because there are many different heads of state coming in today.
I lean over and kiss her gently, before getting out of bed. When I turn around and look down at her, she has her head propped up on her hand. My cock is hard, as it usually is when I am near her.
“You need something, Tris?” I ask her, smiling. I grip my cock and slowly stroke it while I look at her. Her eyes widen.
“I always do, but a hot shower and coffee sounds blissful right now.” She says as she shakes her ass toward the bathroom. Yesterday, all my stuff appeared in here and the sleeping bag gone. I am sure Mason and Crystal have been scheming.
“You are going to pay for that Trista.” I say as we both take off running and laughing. I trap her in the bathroom and reach into the shower and turn it on. We step inside, and she immediately kneels before me. There is something about a queen on her knees before her man, while she is taking him into her mouth. The fact that it is her, makes me insane. Her tiny fingers dig into my ass as she sucks my cock. She has gotten more confident over the last few days.
Has it only been three days? It seems like forever, but in a good way. She finishes me off and swallows every drop. Damn. I am a lucky man. She doesn’t want anything from me in return. She said she wants me to be relaxed today. She knew how much her father meant to me and once again I am blown away by her selflessness. I pull her to stand and gently wash her body.
We dress in silence and head to the State Room. I hold her hand as we walk. Her silent tears as she sees the closed casket, make me move toward her. She remains strong, but the grip she has on my forearm lets me know otherwise. He is interred in the family mausoleum on the grounds. There is no wake or
party for him, but she does host a dinner for the visiting dignitaries.
She surprises everyone, me included, when she seats me at the head of the table with her at the opposite end. She introduces me as her fiancé. I haven’t made it official, but I plan to. I had been feeling self-conscious about using my grandmothers ring. I feel like isn't good enough. Aren’t I supposed to spend three paychecks on one? That still wouldn’t be good enough.
My mom literally knocked some sense into me. Telling me nothing I didn’t already know about my girl. No one says anything bad about us. Congratulations are offered. We eat the eight-course meal, while engaging in polite conversation. There is a noticeable absence from today. The vice-chancellor sent his apologies, but he is ill and could not make it. Good riddance, motherfucker.
Chapter Nine
Trista
One month after the funeral, the morning of my Inauguration dawns gray and rainy. Crystal and Trisha-Lynn have been my saviors in this process. Gavin has been by my side every night. Every minute I spend with him, I love him more.
Standing in my bathroom after throwing up for third morning in a row, I am pretty sure I am pregnant. I sent Trisha-Lynn to a pharmacy in SoNo. No one will recognize her there and if they do, they won’t put two and two together. I need to be sure before I say anything.
I take a quick shower. The hairdresser and makeup artist are waiting on me in my sitting room. My dress is a peach creation of tulle and satin that I fell in love with. Trisha-Lynn designed and made it by hand. She knows me so well in so little time. The back is a corset design, it is both classy and sexy. Deciding on light makeup and my hair down with a slight touch of curls.
When Trisha-Lynn comes into my bathroom holding the bag, her face is red.
“Did Gavin see you?” I ask taking the box from her.
“Not him. It was dick head, Beckson. He gave me the third degree and started saying all kinds of shit to me.” She says, blushing.