by Andy King
I love her, but she’s kind of a drama queen. Black and White are the Senate and House majority leaders. They have other names, but it’s an old joke. Black’s a Senator who grew up in the Bronx and White’s a Nevada rancher, now Speaker of the House. They can’t stand each other, but they’re from the same party, and united in their opposition to me. With the tsunami of information I have to digest, I don’t have time for chitchat. As far as I’m concerned, that’s why God invented videoconferencing. Black and White are from a different era, though. I can’t avoid meeting with them in person.
“They’re early,” I say.
“No, you’re late.”
“Already?” I don’t wear a watch or carry a phone. The need to focus is so great I don’t want to get sidetracked, checking a clock. Having other people keeping track of time is another perk of the job.
“I’ve got everything set,” she says. We have a system to get me back on schedule.
For this little powwow, I’ll have a full complement of aides in attendance. One of them will signal in plain sight of the politicians that I have an upcoming appointment, then a few minutes later, another one will make a similar gesture. I’ll start winding things up in sync. Black will figure it out, and White will have to get over himself.
I parade into the Roosevelt Room, where I’m met with the delegates from the Hill and their army of assistants. Everybody wants a piece. Shaking hands and smiling, I gesture for them to be seated.
A recent president was criticized for not hanging out, playing golf or otherwise fraternizing with congresscritters. It’s how things get done, the critics said. Me, I’m even less chummy, almost to the point of rudeness, sometimes. My take is that this is a job, a serious job, where the lives of real people are at stake every day. From the tragedy that’s been visited on the middle class, to hostility between citizens and police, to the safety of brave men and women in the military and special operations, the Federal government has a lot to answer for. I’ve got three hundred and fifty million people depending on me. Golf is really far down my priority list.
The meeting goes pretty well. I listen to their concerns, but when White starts in on remembrances of things past, how the President and Congress used to be a partnership and a dozen other lies, I interrupt.
“May I please have your support in this case?”
Much hemming and hawing commences. I glance at one of my shills. She makes a show of pointing at her watch. I stand up, addressing White.
“Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me.” I tilt my head at Black, hoping that the opportunity to rankle White in front of an audience is too much to pass up. I’m rewarded.
He stands and buttons his suitcoat. “Madame President, thank you for your time. We will duly consider your initiative.”
It’s the best I can hope for at the moment. I don’t hear any outright objection, so I’m going ahead with my plan. They’ll let me hang myself by neither agreeing nor blocking me, from what I can tell. I wait as patiently as possible for the two to amble out with their muppets.
With an eyebrow, Carmel signals me that we need to get moving. A few seconds after the thundering herd departs, she, Jack, another agent and I walk to my office quickly.
I flip a hand. “Anything crucial? I need some writing time.” I process complex situations best by journaling. Carmel will halt all calls for awhile.
“The analysts are busy. They’ll have the output in an hour or so. The Cabinet memoranda are due soon, but I can run them through the wringer and have them ready about the same time.” She ticks off a few appointments: medals for regional groups, a low-level ambassador, nothing that can’t be shuffled. “I can get you an hour, maybe an hour and a half.”
“Do it,” I say as I enter my office.
I turn around to close the door behind me. Jack’s in the way. Exhaling, I decide. I really need to kick him out, but I have to deal with this. I look into his warm brown eyes.
“I write alone,” I say as gently as I can.
“I think I’m supposed to stay.”
I tilt my head and bite my lower lip. A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. Reaching around his massive body, I push the door shut. The lock clicks.
“Then stay.” I make no move to go to my desk, just gaze up at him with my head cocked and a goofy grin on my face.
He lifts his huge hand to my cheek.
4
Cheri
His voice is soft and low. “I’m sorry.” He drops his hand and looks away.
“I’m not.” I gaze a few yards into his eyes.
It’s just that I…” He stares into the distance. There’s so much pain back there, wherever he’s looking, whatever he’s seeing.
Why I want to deal with that, I have no idea. I’ve got a country to run, but this man captivates me.
His eyes swing back to mine. “It’s like I know you. Like I’ve seen you before.”
The corners of my mouth turn up. “It’s not like I’m unknown.”
“It’s not that.” His shoulders come down a little.
I’ve taken risks before, especially when I was younger. From somewhere in my lower back, electricity—slow sheet lightning—creeps up to my shoulder blades. Goose bumps again. I take a deep breath.
Up on tiptoe I throw my arms around his neck, my lips pressed to his. My insides melt, pouring fire below my waist. I’m startled when he pivots us so I’m pinned against the wall, his heavy body surrounding me. He plunges his tongue in my mouth. I kiss back with hunger.
Morrie but not Morrie and how can I be doing this, didn’t I take vows? But Morrie’s gone and I’m here and it’s right. My tongue keeps probing. I’ve got to know the reason.
In a swoop Jack picks me up and sets me on my desk. One of his hands supports my back and the other is up my skirt, between my legs. Our tongues are hot snakes. I break out in sweat. Panic takes me.
Who ever heard of forty-three year old virgin? There’s no such thing. Except me.
When Morrie and I were married I was barely twenty, on a fast track through life. I’d never been with a man, other than fumbling around in high school. Morrie and I met and fell in love, and got hitched a month later.
I’ll never forget our wedding night. He apologized so gallantly and I felt so remorseful. I really thought it was my fault. Then he made his case for a marriage based on total honesty and friendship above all. It wasn’t my fault, he said. When I looked in his eyes I saw deep into his heart—there was only pure love.
How many people can truly say that they love their mate completely and unconditionally? I knew that I was blessed.
Morrie consulted doctor after doctor, but could never perform his marital duties. I was disappointed, but in the crush of law school, then the speed at which I flew through the political world, it was always easy to put it off another month. I threw myself into work and our social scene, making sure that in public I looked at him as if I wanted to rip his pants off and go down on him. Months stretched into years. I grew accustomed to our life. Morrie was wonderful in every other way, and since his death I haven’t had a spare moment to think about it.
Until now.
My skirt is bunched up; there’s a swamp between my legs. Jack hooks a finger inside the waistband of my bikini bottom, sparking me. I’m going to flame into a torch at any second. Last warning.
I pull away from the kiss, gasping like the drowned. “I don’t know if they’re recording this.”
“They’re not,” he whispers. “There’s an agent right outside the door, though.”
“I locked it.”
His eyes are inside of mine, urging, praying. I give him the tiniest dip of my chin. All right.
Jack lays me across the desk, so gently I hardly notice his hands. His breath’s between my legs, a desert breeze. A low growl—is that me? He slides my panties off and parts my legs, then reaches up, unbuttons my blouse and unhooks my bra.
He caresses my nipples. I lie back and whimper. His touch dri
ves me wild. I bite my lip to keep from screaming.
With grace he weaves kisses down my stomach to my thighs. I run fingertips through his hair. I want this so badly, it’s all I can do to keep from cramming his face into my pelvis and holding it there.
Suddenly his tongue. I groan low, rapture rushing through every cell of my body, a whitewater current of glory. His big hands hold me firmly.
“Please,” I beg.
A sudden shock takes me, and for a second I worry about the desk. I choke back a laugh. If I can’t get a cleaning crew to deal with it, no one can.
I’ve taken care of my own needs over the years, masturbating with my fingers, fantasizing like a teenage girl. I’m not prepared for this. It’s just so damn hot! Like a volcano inside me, building, building, and threatening to blow.
I drape my ankles over his broad shoulders, and pull with my heels. My back muscles tighten. The first orgasmic wave spirals through me. I break.
“Annh, annh, annh, annhhh,” I wail. My hips buck up and down, slamming my butt into the wood. A pulsing current scorches me. I clamp my thighs to his neck.
My palm slaps the desk, sending papers flying everywhere. He doesn’t stop. I explode again.
“Holy shit!” I scream. My hips swing back and forth, shaking with ecstasy.
He slows down, soft tongue strokes to build more heat, then hard again. The intensity of the torture rises, and just when I think he’s got me at my peak, I feel his finger.
My shoulders fly up and crash down on the desk. Flames shoot up and down my spine. My hands flail around and find a grip in his hair. I pull him to me, pleading incoherently.
Suddenly he stops.
Looking up, he says, “You’re…?”
My neck is so limp I can hardly lift my head. “Uh, yeah.”
He licks his lips, his eyes pleased. Then he goes somber. “I promise to be gentle.”
I lie back and giggle. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. Come here.” I want him so badly I’m ready to make it an Executive Order.
Obviously he wants me, too. Leaving his shirt and jacket on, it only takes him a few seconds to shed his pants. My eyes go wide.
It was so long ago, and I’ve only been with one other man. Everything about that time was different. I’m not prepared for this. I want to fondle all of him, and wave him closer.
My hands know what to do. His eyes close. A rumbling noise escapes him. I shiver from a heat gust. My fingertips explore. Everywhere. The rumble goes deeper in his chest.
Finally I lie back. “Now, Jack,” I whisper.
He doesn’t need another invitation. I inhale, feeling myself widen. I sort of hope it doesn’t hurt too much, but I sort of don’t care. The demon goddess is in charge now. I want him.
“We’d better go slow, at first anyway,” he says.
I raise an eyebrow, my smile ironic. I’m way past caring. Heck, I want it to hurt. He takes my shoulders in his hands, pushing further, and holds there, nudging up against my virginity.
“Ready?”
I close my eyes. “Yes… Please.”
I feel my hymen give way. It hurts a little, a fleeting pang. I open my eyes. He has a smile on his face, the first one I’ve seen. God, he sure is handsome.
“You should do that more often,” I say softly.
“What?”
“Smile.”
His hands pull me closer.
“Ohhh,” we purr in harmony.
“You’re going to make me burst,” he says.
“Do it.”
“You first.”
He shoves all the way in. I gasp.
He holds for another few seconds, then starts firmly, moving with the rhythm of the gods, over and over. I yowl, electric with bliss, and yank with my heels.
My hips rise off the desk, trying to match his cadence, trying to force him in deeper. My hands find his biceps, but his arms are so huge I can’t get a grip. I dig my nails in.
He rocks me hard, lifting me up and slamming me down, again and again. I grip tight. It seems to drive him wild. His timing builds to a fury. I can’t believe it, I’m going to climax again.
5
Jack
Undressing her partway I worship her perfect, round breasts, moistening them with my tongue, tracing a figure eight pattern. Slowly I make my way to her treasure, my lips on her stomach, then between her legs. She wriggles with each lick. I’m thrilled by her excitement, and flick until she’s red and swollen. I can’t believe how good she tastes.
She shudders and jolts, erupting with an orgasm, her moans a symphony to my ears. I want to make her vibrate and thrum, and chant a mantra of joy again. I’ve got to make her mine forever. Her hands fly out, reaching for Heaven. She shakes with another explosion. I add a finger to give her more pleasure.
It takes a minute before I realize. I stop and ask. Yes, she’s a virgin. I’m astonished at my good fortune. This perfect woman is exquisite in every way, and now she’s mine from start to finish. I’ll be her only one, ever.
My vow is silent. I’m going to bind her to me for the rest of our lives.
So I promise to be gentle. She gives me a lusty laugh. It spurs me to take her hard, but treat her with devotion.
Restraint now history, I drop my trousers, leaving my jacket on in case we’re interrupted. The danger of the situation heightens my senses, the sheen of her auburn hair so rich, her taste on my tongue like buttery wine.
When she takes me in her hands, I almost erupt. She gently runs her fingers all over me. My groan is like a diesel locomotive idling.
Then my dream comes true. She lies back on the desk and tells me to go ahead.
My father taught me to be a gentleman. When a lady asks…
I’ve got to do this right, so I take my time. She breathes in sharply, her heels pulling me, her legs tensing.
We should go slow to keep from hurting her. When I say that, she just smiles and yanks harder. I ask her if she’s ready, just to make sure. When she says she is, I start. Oh God, she’s so fine. I bite my tongue to keep from cresting too soon, but I can’t help but smile.
She makes a little quip, but I have a one track mind. I lean in. We sing together, deep and low.
Hearing her purr tips me to the edge. “You’re going to make me burst,” I say.
“Do it.”
“You first.”
There’s no way I can hold back. My engine slips into drive, slowly at first. She grips me tight. I gasp. Pulling hard with her heels, she squirms and groans. Gripping the hardwood, I start in earnest.
Nothing could have prepared me for this. My eyes roll up in the back of my head like I’m in a different universe. My hands grip her thick hips. I love the way they fit, as if they’re custom-made for me.
I move around, trying to find her pearl, and I’m rewarded. She screams another climax, digging her nails into my arms and her heels into my back. I can’t take it any longer.
With a mighty push, I explode, a fiery jet of molten fervor. I can’t stop.
Suddenly I realize we’re shouting. I try to quiet down. The walls and door are double-thick and hardened against sound, but we’re really loud, wailing our passion.
Finally I just hold her, throbbing a thundering drumbeat. I clasp her to me, my ecstasy a brass band blaring in my head. She hugs back with all her strength.
A few moments pass. Cheri giggles. “Unbelievable.”
“I’ve never…” I don’t know how to finish that sentence.
“I must had five, or maybe six orgasms.”
“Really?”
“From when you started with your tongue.”
“You liked that?”
“Well, yeah.” She chuckles again. “So did you, I could tell.”
“It was so…”
“Clittilicious?” She smirks.
My laugh comes from deep in my belly. Tears leak out of the corners of my eyes.
I realize that her back must be killing her, still lying on the hard surface. I pick he
r up and sit on a sofa, Cheri in my lap.
Nuzzling her neck with my chin, I whisper, “You’re mine.”
“You know, I want to be, but I have this job to do.”
“Yeah, I know. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain.”
“Um, doesn’t the Secret Service have…psych tests? I mean, how could this get past them?” She sees my look and her eyes widen. “Just wondering,” she says in a small voice.
I want to change the subject, and look around, smiling. “We’ve really made a mess.”
She flips a hand. “I’ll just tell the cleaning crew to go over it extra-careful.”
“What if they—”
“I’ll threaten to revoke their citizenship.” Her laugh is full-throated. “Just kidding. They won’t, trust me.”
We’re silent for a minute. My curiosity’s strong, but I don’t want to ask.
“What?” she says.
“Huh? You think I had a question?”
She rests her jaw on my collarbone. “I feel really close to you. I can almost tell what you’re thinking.”
“I just don’t understand—”
“Why I was still a virgin? It’s a long story, but I’m glad I’m not anymore.”
My chest swells. “Me, too. I’m glad I was your first. I want to be your last.”
Her eyes search mine. I can see she wants to trust me, but in her position, trusting most people is a liability. “I have a question, too.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“Obviously, you’re not a virgin. I mean, you’re experienced. So—”
“You’re worried about unprotected sex.” I shift in my seat. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman. I was tested for STDs before I got out of the Marines, and again a few years later. I’m clean.”
Her eyes flit away. “Actually, I was asking… Technically, I’m still young enough to bear children.”
My heart takes a little hop. For Cheri to have my baby would be like winning the lottery. Then my euphoria nosedives. Of course that’s not going to happen.
Her face is grave. “I cannot get pregnant.” Then she waves a hand as if it’s nothing. “I just needed to ask.”