by Beth Klein
Charlotte was eager, but she was still very inexperienced and her nervousness began to show past the initial bravado. With gentle words and guiding hands, Goulding showed her how he liked to be touched and how she could best please him with her mouth and tongue.
His tutelage seemed to calm her nerves. Before long she was exploring her own methods and ideas. Charlotte lifted Goulding’s straining member gently in her hand and ran the tip of her tongue from the base of his taut balls, along the shaft and right to the tip that was already moist with pre-cum. She paused to relish the salty liquid and then used her tongue to circle his glands and concentrate on the skin that used to connect his foreskin to the head of his cock before he had been circumcised. It caused intense sensations to course through Goulding’s body and he shuddered and bucked his hips under her embrace.
Taking a deep breath, Charlotte gripped the base of Goulding’s shaft and guided it into her mouth. To begin with, she tried to take too much, too soon and found herself at the point of gagging. She withdrew and tried again, using her hand to grip the shaft and act as a barrier that marked the depth that she was comfortable with. More confident now, she started to bob her head backwards and forwards, using her loose, wet lips and flicking tongue to further excite her moaning lover.
So that he would be able to derive the maximum amount of pleasure from the experience, she also moved her hand backwards and forwards in a steady rhythm that matched her bobbing head. Pausing for a minute to look up into Goulding’s eyes she saw the effect that she was having on him and realized that in turn, it was making her wet with excitement.
Eager to enhance her own pleasure, she moved one hand to the material of her panties and pulled them aside so that she was deliciously exposed and open. She alternated between slipping a finger inside herself and rubbing her clitoris hard and fast. Soon her moans were stifled by the hard, wet cock that she sucked with forceful intensity.
Looking down and seeing Charlotte’s beautiful eyes staring back up at him while she worked his cock in and out of her mouth very nearly pushed Goulding to the limit of his resolve. With no little difficulty he gently pushed her away.
“Now it’s my turn,” he said winking slyly at her and as she regained her feet he stripped off the remainder of his clothes and pushed her forcefully back against the wall. He kissed her hard and ran his hands roughly over her body, squeezing her breasts, cupping her ass and delving deep within her. Charlotte responded in kind, aroused at the savage passion which was such an improvement on the slow, careful sex that she had been introduced to. She wanted to be fucked, hard and fast. She didn’t want a careful lover to slowly make love to her.
Goulding dropped to his knees and tilting his head for better access, he began to kiss and lick her already soaking wet pussy. At the same time, he rolled down her stockings. One at a time removed her shoes and the fine nylon entrapments. Charlotte wondered what he was doing, but the expert touch of his lips and tongue soon had her lost in the moment and uncaring what came next as long as he continued to stimulate her so vigorously.
Without warning, he rose and in the same moment flipped her around so that she was crushed against the elaborate wallpaper. She tried to move, but he held her tightly, using his body to prevent her from turning to face him and she felt his excitement pressing hard into her soft, pliable buttocks. He kissed her neck and bit her earlobe making her cry out. His hands clasped her arms and he forced them up above her head and held them tightly together with his left hand. With the right, he produced one of the nylon stockings and carefully bound her wrists so that she was held fast. Her entrapment complete, he half dragged, half carried her further along the corridor and forcing her onto tiptoe, secured the bound wrists over a coat hook mounted in the wall so that she was held in place and unable to even put her feet flat on the ground.
Charlotte had never been so turned on and the excitement born from expectancy and completely uncharted territory made her ache for Goulding’s embrace…but he had apparently disappeared.
She couldn’t feel him. She couldn’t hear him. Where had he gone?
The bar of hot pain that followed the highly audible ‘crack’ of metal on skin was a complete surprise and she was barely able to stifle a scream. What surprised her more however was the fact that she had liked the sensation. Erotic pain, when tinged with pleasure and release were infinitely more enticing than normal sex had been. When the next strike warmed her buttocks she moaned and writhed with pleasure and realized that she was actually pushing her ass out for more!
“Oh God yes! Whatever that is, keep doing it Bill,” she groaned. “Spank me, fuck me…make me cum.”
He struck her again and again until her ass burned with the rough treatment and she could bear it no more.
“Fuck me Bill, fuck me now. Fuck me hard and don’t stop until you’ve shot your load deep inside me.”
She heard him grunt and knew that he was every bit as turned on as she was. Seconds later his insistent hands forced her legs apart, settled on her hips and he thrust himself forwards, impaling her roughly. She screamed in pleasure and pushed back as far as she could, grinding herself against his cock and straining against her bonds.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…FUCK ME!” she chanted, almost as a mantra and Goulding responded by pounding himself in and out as hard and as fast as he could. As he thrust, he used one hand to steady her hips and the other to continue to spank her thighs and buttocks, both of them delighting in the loud ‘slaps’ that echoed of the walls and the instant quiver and twitch of abused flesh.
Charlotte had already cum once, loud and wet. Now Goulding felt his legs shudder as he approached his own climax. He clasped both hips firmly to steady himself and pumped on, unabated.
“Charlie…Charlie, I-I…I…oh God!”
“Do it Bill, do it…DO IT!”
Then they came, crying out in their shared passion and release, shuddering and straining against each other and practically weeping with the intensity of what they had just shared. When the shivering had stopped and Goulding had released her hands from the stocking entrapment, Charlotte looked down and saw the steel ruler that had been presented to Goulding by the students a few hours earlier.
“Is that what you used?” she said with amusement.
Goulding nodded.
“They might not be able to vote yet, but you’ve got to fucking love kids.”
Chapter Four
A Tale Of Three Cities?
William Goulding felt oddly naked, stripped of the security that he had always taken for granted but had never previously acknowledged. This was the first official visit that John Lyndsey hadn’t accompanied him on. Although he would never have admitted it openly to the little man’s face, Goulding missed his overbearing presence and carefully orchestrated agenda.
Still, it couldn’t be helped. John was overseeing a private errand that if successful would help to get the reporter Brian Kennedy off his back once and for all.
Similarly, Jake Armstrong was missing from the modest party that had made its way to the Shawnee Army Veterans Centre in Oklahoma State. Despite the fact that the Bureau’s finest were sharing the job of safeguarding Goulding’s wellbeing with the men that had been hand-picked by his own head of security, the big man’s omnipresent attentions were keenly missed.
Late the previous evening, Jake had left to complete his own errand and deal with the threat posed by Quest Realtors. Along with Lyndsey’s individual mission, Jake’s actions could quite easily see the balance of power swing irrevocably in Goulding’s favor. At no point in the entire campaign race had a twenty-four hour window been so crucial to his bid for the presidency.
Charlotte had remained at Goulding’s side ever since they had left their home base and boarded the plane for the short flight into the neighboring state. Even though their interactions had been strictly professional, the privileged knowledge of their clandestine relationship continued to both excite and comfort him. Despite the absence of his frien
d and most trusted adviser, Goulding had seen the sense in maintaining a thoroughly professional stance in the face of an increasingly vigilant public.
They were already well into October and the final few weeks of the run-in to Election Day. Traditionally it was the time that all would-be Presidents feared the most. When any late ‘surprises’ could permanently de-rail an otherwise promising campaign. With D-Day so close, there simply wasn’t enough time to address any negative connotations and regain the public’s trust. Anything even slightly contentious would remain as a dark cloud hanging above the candidate and in all likelihood follow him all the way to failure and the relative political obscurity of the ‘nearly-man.’
Goulding was smitten, but he wasn’t stupid and he had no intention of deliberately giving the press any additional ammunition to use against him. He wanted to have his cake and be able to eat it. If they were careful, there was absolutely no reason why he shouldn’t be able to do just that. This was a month that would forever define his life, whichever way it went and he had every intention of looking back at it with pride and confidence, instead of pain and regret.
Goulding had also realized that he was actually looking forward to this visit and wondered why John had never suggested it when they had first come up with the original list of public visits and seminars. Goulding was a military man…had been a military man, he corrected himself. He had always been fiercely proud to represent and protect his country. That certainty had persisted when he had left the service. He looked on every one of his compatriots, regardless of their age, experience or rank as a hero worthy of the love and adoration of a grateful nation.
With the recent War Against Terror and the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan he saw a positive swing in the way that the nation saw it’s fallen heroes, but Goulding knew that this hadn’t always been the case, far from it in fact. Vietnam veterans had spent decades without the support that they so clearly deserved, facing daily battles with paltry disability allowances and a nation that was undecided or apathetic to the role that they had played in the ‘Police Action.’ Goulding assumed that Lyndsey was merely being cautious by distancing him from this particular hornet’s nest, but now that he was here, Goulding was awash with emotions that trumped the possible political sensitivity ten to one.
* * *
“What? …yes…yes, that’s right,” said John Lyndsey as he cupped his ear and tried to make out the voice through a barrage of distortion. “For fuck’s sake…This is ridiculous…What? No, not you…The reception’s crap…HOW MUCH! ...For what? No…eww! God no, definitely nothing to do with coprophilous. What gave you that idea? …Ha, ha, ha no, I said the reception’s crap, not the recipient’s crap! I tell you what, let me get to a landline and I’ll call you back…what? A L-A-N-D L-I-N-E…oh never mind!”
Irritably he snapped the phone closed and not for the first time, cursed the fragility of the things that everyone took for granted. If every cell phone tower and web-server simultaneously died, the world would be torn apart in a flurry of anarchy and confusion. If World War Three ever came along, it wouldn’t be fought with nukes and conventional weapons. It would be based entirely on electronic warfare. Even though physical casualties would be massively reduced, the overall effect would be more catastrophic than anything that mankind had ever experienced before.
Feeling utterly depressed by his failed telephone call and the apparent impending end to the world as he knew it, he began to traipse back to the office.
“I don’t like this,” he thought to himself. “It’s seedy, wrong and the pressure on me is fucking huge! What if I fuck it up? What if he refuses? What the hell was Bill thinking when he asked…no, told me that I had to do this? It’s not only wrong, it’s unfair. He promised never to say anything. Bloody politicians! They’re all the fucking same when you strip away the different party representations, the false smiles and the bullshit. Two-faced, arrogant assholes, the lot of them!”
He trudged on moodily and when he finally felt his anger dissipate slightly, a rational thought managed to worm its way into his mind.
“He’s right though,” he mumbled bitterly. “This is probably the only way to put this to bed once and for all.”
Suddenly he snorted, surprised at the unintentional joke.
“I’m wasted in this career,” he grinned. “Comedy Central here I come!”
The laughter had lifted his mood and as he bounded up the stairs two at a time, which was no mean feat for a man with such small legs, he was already rehearsing the conversations that he was about to have.
“It all comes down to this,” he thought. “The reporter and the hooker… Sounds like the start of a bad joke or maybe even a trashy novel. I’ll have to remember that, after all, don’t they say that we’ve all got at least one book in us?”
* * *
Jake sat perfectly still despite the cramped position and the dull ache in his legs. He had remained in the same position for nearly two hours and displayed a discipline that could only be learned through hours of practice and exercise. He hadn’t lost his edge in the months that had followed his dismissal and although the discomfort was acute, he embraced it and delighted in his own restraint and consummate professionalism.
Very, very slowly he stretched himself, taking five full minutes to complete the exercise and ensuring that each movement was minute and completely indistinguishable by all but the most attentive of onlookers. While he needed to remain still and focused, it wouldn’t do to cramp up and be unable to move at short notice if the situation demanded it. Pins and needles stabbed at his protesting limbs, but other than the involuntary fluttering of an eyelid, Jake showed nothing of the inner turmoil that prickled him mercilessly. Gradually the pain abated and he let out his breath in a silent sigh of relief.
Preparation was the key to everything and the years in the military had drilled that into him as thoroughly as the hard lessons that he had learned at boot camp. Irrespective of whether he was a civilian, or one of America’s finest, the lessons learned remained as true now as the day that they had been taught to him and as soon as he had received Goulding’s text message, he had begun his preparations in earnest.
First, he had gathered the necessary plans and blue-prints for the Quest Realtors head office complex and begun to study them in intimate detail. Every key design anomaly, service penetration, structural opening and material weakness was considered and evaluated as he planned his entry and assault. It might not be an Afghani outpost or an Iraqi stronghold, but the information contained within the building made the success of the mission every bit as crucial to his commanding chief and as such, it was crucial to Jake. He was one of the finest weapons his country had every produced, but now he served a different master and his loyalties had been re-focused accordingly. He would not fail Goulding.
Having decided on an entry point and the means in which he would disable the security system, secure the objective and then cover up all signs of his presence, he had turned his focus on the human element. Surveillance was dull and tedious, but essential. Without it, he would never truly know the routines and movements of the key individuals involved in this little subterfuge. He needed to be certain that all aspects of Larry Ackermann, Arthur Deane and Frazer Martin’s professional movements were well known to him and that they wouldn’t surprise him when he made his move. Normally, he would have watched them over a period of a week or so, but he had been afforded eighteen hours at best and so it was full on, non-stop, shit or bust.
Jake also needed to make sure that he knew the route and schedule of the buildings security guards. The cameras and alarms were static and relatively easy to overcome and bypass, but people were notoriously unpredictable. As for the directors, he would have dearly loved more time to be sure, but it was what it was and he would make the best of the hand that he had been dealt and manage the situation accordingly.
Jake looked at his watch and silently counted down the seconds.
“Five…Four…Three…Two�
�One…”
He looked up, but there was nothing to see, just the same emotionless brick, steel and glass of the Quest Realtors building, sat dark and brooding in the carefully manicured landscape. Had he miscalculated? Was he wrong in his assessment? Was this simply too little time to properly prepare for a mission of this magnitude and importance? Suddenly a uniformed guard appeared around the corner of the building and with a general air of apathy that suggested he had walked the same tedious route many, many times before. He sauntered along the perimeter and disappeared around the far side of the building and out of sight.
Jake grinned to himself and felt his confidence rise another notch.
“You’ve gotta love rent-a-cop! Minimum wage and yet they still show a pride in the badge that would thoroughly embarrass the boys in blue.” He thought to himself.
The big man noted the time of the appearance, the time it took to walk the line of the building and the nickname that he had given to this particular security officer in a little notebook and settled himself again. If he was right, there would be another pass-by in a little over forty minutes and he would add it to the notes he had already taken. Already there was a definite pattern and a predictability that made his impending mission all the more straightforward.
“Piece of piss,” he thought and grinned again.
* * *
This was a very different type of meet and greet and far from resenting the continuous stream of well-wishers and hand-shakers, Goulding found that he was deeply moved by the men and women that were introduced to him. Spotlessly turned out individuals of all ages snapped to attention and saluted him with crisp military precision and a pride in the uniform that had remained un-dulled, despite the decades of derision and apathy.
These were the unfortunate few that would never be etched into the stone of living monuments and fondly remembered by a visiting public. These were the unfortunate few that would never receive the accolades and recognition that their actions deserved and these were the unfortunate few that would never be recorded in the history books for the part that they had played in upholding America’s sovereignty and freedom.