Daddy In Charge

by Autumn Collins

  I turned to Connie and made a pained face.

  “I have to give a speech,” I said.

  She looked surprised. “What?”

  “A speech. Here. Tonight.”

  “Why you?”

  I sighed. “Because the President had to cancel. There’s some crisis in Korea and he has a call in to the Japanese Prime Minister. I’ve been elected to fill in for the man.”

  “By who?”

  I glanced over my shoulder. “Sec State and his Chief of Staff,” I grunted. “They blindsided me.”

  Connie seemed to think the idea amusing. She didn’t know how much I loathed public speaking. In a meeting I was fine – those conversations were one-on-one where you could stare down your adversary across a table. Talking to a gathered crowd was a whole different beast. I glanced at Sergey for sympathy.

  “Any advice?”

  The Russian looked bemused. “Make it short.”

  Around us the room was filling quickly. People were gathering at their allotted tables. I glanced at my watch and sighed again, this time with heavy resignation. Then I had a thought.

  “Connie, come with me,” I said.

  She looked truly horrified. “On stage?”

  I shook my head and laughed as the color drained away from her face. “No, just behind the curtain. For moral support.”

  She shrugged. Sergey rose from where he was sitting. He had a space reserved at another table amongst the Russian delegates. He wished me luck and we shook hands again. I watched him walk away and then plucked at Connie’s elbow. “We need to move now,” I said. “The hotel staff are waiting on me to deliver my speech before they begin to serve the meals.”

  There were two security guards at the edge of the stage standing with their hands clasped in front of them. I led Connie past them and up three darkened stairs. We were behind the main stage in a dark gloomy corridor. There were a few people idling in the walkway and I heard a journalist asking one of the hotel’s managers a couple of questions. I led Connie by the hand until we were standing behind the heavy curtain.

  She straightened my tie and smiled up into my face. The whole backstage area had been painted black and the lights were turned down low. I was glad I didn’t have anything written and prepared. I could barely see a few feet in the dim light.

  “Nervous?” Connie asked softly.

  “Yes.”

  She frowned. “Mitch, you don’t have to say anything special,” Connie assured me. “Just welcome the Russians and say how great it is to see the trade deal reach a conclusion that will benefit both countries.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Are you my press secretary now?”

  “No,” Connie shook her head and her eyes turned mysterious. “I’m your lover and your baby girl.” As she spoke, the words breathed in a sultry whisper, she reached out boldly and ran the palm of her hands over my cock.

  I flinched away but she persisted. Her touch was teasing, her hands knowing. I felt myself harden and had to clutch at her wrist. The last thing I needed was to go on stage with an obvious erection. I kissed her and then disappeared through the curtain before the wicked little vixen had an opportunity to work more of her sexual charms.

  Connie

  It was late when we at last left the Constable. The night was bitterly cold and I snuggled against the warmth of Mitch in the back of the limousine. The smoked glass partition that divided us from the Secret Service driver was elevated, and fogged like a bathroom mirror after a hot shower.

  “I thought your speech was very statesman-like,” I murmured. I had my hand beneath his jacket, pressed against his shirt so I could feel the warmth of his body.

  Mitch grunted. “I was grateful to get through it,” he said.

  We lapsed into a brief silence, both of us recalling snippets and memories of the night.

  Mitch chuckled. “Did you see poor Sergey’s face when I told him we fucked every night?”

  I smiled, remembering… and then sat up in mock horror.

  “You lied to him,” I accused.

  Mitch frowned. “No I didn’t –”

  “Well you haven’t fucked me tonight…” My hand drifted across his crotch until I felt the lump of his cock. I stroked it through the fabric of his pants and felt a clench of response.

  Mitch looked appalled. “We’re in a government limousine,” he protested.

  I unzipped his pants. His cock betrayed the truth. He was hard and getting harder as my fingers caressed his length.

  He drew a breath, then picked up the internal phone that linked us to the driver’s seat.

  “You better take the long way home, Waddingham.”

  By the time he had set the phone back in its cradle, I already had the tip of his cock between my hungry lips, moaning with pleasure.

  Mitch sighed and leaned back in the seat. I was curled up like a cat in his lap. I felt his hand rub down my back and realized a moment later that he wasn’t massaging my tight shoulders – he was unzipping my dress.

  His balls were still in his pants, but his cock was in my mouth. I bobbed my head to a casual rhythm, not trying to bring him to orgasm, but merely inflaming his appetite. He came alive between my lips. His cock twitched then pressed against the roof of my mouth. I felt his hands tangle in my hair and then there was slight pressure on the back of my head. I went with it; let him guide me all the way down his cock until my nose was pressed against the fabric of his pants. With my mouth wide open, I worked the flat of my tongue to massage the underside of his cock. Mitch groaned with satisfaction and held me down until I felt myself running out of air.

  When I came off his cock I was gasping and my eyes streamed with tears. My lipstick had left a pink ring around the base of his shaft. I kissed it away and gently stroked him. There was a wet patch down the front of his pants from where I’d drooled.

  Mitch had his hand on my ass, rubbing me through the material of my dress but I didn’t have the room to reposition myself and give him better access. His touch served only to frustrate me, never quite reaching those sensitive parts of my pussy that craved attention.

  Finally, in a fit of desperation, I straddled him and pulled my panties aside. My pussy was tingling. I rubbed myself while Mitch watched, mesmerized. Then I took his cock in my hand and guided it inside me.

  I slid all the way down his cock in a long slow plunge, trying to make the moment last but aching so badly for the fullness of his cock that the last two inches disappeared with a sudden frantic rush. I groaned and fell forward, burying my face in Mitch’s neck. He had his hands on my ass, and he lifted himself bodily off the seat to fuck me.

  I kissed hungrily at his neck. He smelled of aftershave and his jaw was raspy as sandpaper to my lips. The wet slapping sounds of our primal needs filled the small space. I squirmed harder on his cock and then slipped my hand between us to tease my clit. Mitch seemed to understand. He suddenly stilled and I began to bounce myself up and down on his erection until I felt my orgasm appear like a light in the distance. I used Mitch’s cock to edge closer, then pressed my finger deep inside myself so that it rubbed against both the wall of my pussy and Mitch’s pulsing shaft. The arousing effect of this new source of friction was incredible. I felt impossibly full, while at the same time the texture of my finger was a new experience for the sensitive underside of Mitch’s cock.

  Suddenly we were both hurtling towards explosive orgasms.

  I slowed the riding motion of my body and instead wiggled my finger. Mitch growled and tried to buck his hips, but he was clamped in place by the grinding press of my body. He tried one last desperate time and then wrenched his mouth into a tight-lined hiss of release.

  I felt his cum splash inside me.

  Mitch’s orgasm was the trigger I needed to release all my own pent-up desire. I came hard, thrashing on his cock and tossing my head from side to side.

  Chapter 27

  Connie

  I woke to the sound of insistent ringing. It was Saturday morning and
when I rolled over, Mitch was sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching his phone to his ear.

  I stretched languidly and yawned. Mitch set down his phone and got to his feet. He stared down at me grim-faced.

  “I have to go into work,” he said.

  “Today?”

  “Yes. I’ve been summoned to a meeting.”

  “It’s Saturday,” I started to protest.

  Mitch looked dire. “The President wants to see me in the Oval Office.”

  I sat up. “That was his secretary on the phone?”

  “No. That was the President calling directly. I have to go.”

  Mitch

  There were two Secret Service men from the President’s personal detail to meet me when I arrived at the White House. They escorted me through the standard security checks and walked with me all the way to the Oval Office. Waiting outside the door was the President’s Chief of Staff. The man looked bleary-eyed and a little hungover from the previous night’s reception.

  “Morning, Jim,” I nodded. “What’s this all about?”

  The man’s expression was gloomy but he didn’t get a chance to reply. At that moment the door to the inner office opened and the President stood in his shirtsleeves.

  “Come in,” the President said.

  I walked into the Oval Office with the Chief of Staff following me. We both stood near the facing sofas. The President went around behind his desk, flicked through a sheath of papers, and then came back across the room so that he and I were standing toe-to-toe.

  “A journalist from the Daily Leader newspaper has apparently snapped several compromising photographs of you in the company of a very young woman at last night’s reception for the Russian delegation,” the President began. His voice was laced with frustration and suppressed anger. “They were taken backstage before you gave your speech.”

  My face stayed impassive.

  “What I want to know is whether it could be true or not. I want to know if this journalist might really have something this scandalous.”

  I remembered the voice of a journalist questioning one of the hotel managers as Connie and I had waited behind the curtain. And I remembered the way she had boldly reached for my cock.

  “It’s probably true, Mr. President,” I said flatly.

  The President turned on his heel, fuming with anger. He paced across the carpeted floor and then came back to me. His face was tight, the temper burning in his eyes.

  “Goddammit, Mitch!” his voice stayed low but his temper made each word shake. “The last thing we need right now is a fucking scandal. We are two days away from signing the most important trade deal with the Russians to ever be formalized. And now, on the eve of this historic event, the man who negotiated the deal and made it happen gets caught by a fucking journalist with his dick in the hands of some young piece of fucking fluff!”

  I stood, unmoved in the face of the President’s withering tirade. His face was twitching.

  “Can I ask who else knows about the photos?” I enquired softly.

  The President drew a deep breath and scraped his hands through his hair.

  “I phoned the Russian President earlier this morning and warned him of the situation. I believed he had a right to know that there was a potential scandal brewing that might disrupt the official signing. Apart from him, no one else knows.”

  The President stepped back, switching instantly from outrage into damage-control with all the experience of a practiced politician.

  “The journalist is threatening to publish the photos, Mitch. He’s using this like blackmail leverage. He wants a direct line to this office to break future stories, and if he doesn’t get that access, he’s threatened to splash those photos over every newspaper and fucking website in the country.”

  I said nothing. The President’s mouth was drawn in a tight line of contempt.

  “Jim,” the President turned on his Chief of Staff. “How badly can something like this hurt us?”

  The man beside me looked sheepish. He cast me an apologetic expression of helplessness.

  “It’s not a good look,” the Chief of Staff said in understatement. “And it’s bound to tarnish the deal. All the good press that could have come from this signing, and the bump in your approval numbers could vanish, Mr. President. Given the choice, the media is going to run with the scandal. That will push the benefits of the deal off the front page…”

  The President hung his head and raged around the room. He had his hands on his hips, prowling back and forth like a caged animal. At last he spun back to me. His eyes were like steel.

  “Who is she?” he demanded.

  “Her name is Connie Wyatt,” I answered.

  “And what is she, Mitch? Is she a hooker…?”

  “Sir, Connie was a temporary assistant who worked with me. She came to Russia with me when I negotiated the deal.”

  The President’s eyes grew wide with mounting horror. “You were fucking this girl while she worked for you?” his incredulity rose. He could see the hint of a scandal suddenly becoming something even worse.

  “No,” I said flatly. “And when we returned to Washington I transferred Miss Wyatt to another department. There was no sexual contact between us while we were working. None at all.”

  The President’s Chief of Staff had Connie’s file inside a folder. He had seen Connie at the reception, of course. He would have pulled her records in the meantime. He handed the folder to the President who flipped quickly through the record of her employment and then settled uncomfortably on the photograph of her that was attached to her personal details.

  “Jesus, Mitch!” the President looked aghast. “She looks like she’s fucking twelve years old.”

  “She’s twenty,” I said. This time I left off the ‘sir’. Behind my blank expression I was becoming annoyed.

  The President threw Connie’s file down on the coffee table and breathed a deep sigh of frustration. He stared at me from a few yards away. “She has to go,” he said with absolute finality. “Mitch, I cannot allow this potential scandal to embroil the trade deal. I will not allow it to happen. Now you and I have been friends for almost thirty years, and I owe you my personal loyalty. So I want you to get rid of this girl today. Get her out of your house, out of your life. Just remove her from the picture. Do that,” he pointed a finger at me, “and I’ll stand beside you. We’ll ride out any media scandal and you will have my support and the support of this office. It’s either that – or you resign your position. There are no other choices.”

  “I understand,” I said flatly. Then I turned to the Chief of Staff. “Jim, could I talk to the President alone for a minute?”

  The Chief of Staff looked a question at the President. The President nodded his head curtly. The man quietly left the room and I was alone with the President.

  “Okay,” the President loosened his tie. “We’re alone. Say what you want to say.”

  “Before I do that,” I moved for the first time, unbuttoning my coat and relaxing my stance to something more informal. “I want to know who I’m talking to. Am I talking to my President… or am I talking to the friend I have known for thirty years?”

  The President shook his head cruelly. “You’re talking to your President,” he said, the anger still in his voice.

  I nodded. “Very well. Then fuck you, Mr. President. I resign.”

  For a long stunned moment the air sizzled with outrage and shock. The President blinked and looked perplexed.

  “You’re resigning?”

  “Yes,” I insisted. “Connie Wyatt is my companion – my girlfriend. We’ve been living together for about a month and I’ve made no secret of our relationship. Hell, I might even love the girl. And despite what you think and anyone else might think about our age difference, we happen to be compatible and happy. I won’t give that up for anything… or anyone,” I said pointedly.

  I had a blue visitor’s tag clipped to the lapel of my jacket. I snatched it off and tossed it contemptu
ously onto the coffee table as I headed for the door. “You’ll have a copy of my resignation within the hour.”

  Chapter 28

  Connie

  I sat and listened to Mitch with a sense of rising horror and guilt as he told me about his meeting in the Oval Office. I felt all the blood drain away from my face until I was shivering and cold as a corpse. At last Mitch fell silent and I started to cry.

  “Mitch, I’m so sorry!” I sobbed, racked with remorse. “This is all my fault. Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

  He looked bemused by my tears. He put an arm around my shoulder. “It’s no one’s fault,” he tried to appease me. “It’s not like you attacked me and I valiantly tried to fight off your unwelcome advances,” he said around a smile.

  I couldn’t understand his attitude. I expected him to be furious. Through one impulsive moment his entire career in Washington had been ruined, and with it had gone a friendship with the President.

  And he was smiling!

  I felt myself begin to tremble. Mitch went to the bar and poured scotch into two tumblers. He brought one back across the room and handed it to me. I drank it in a single gulp and felt the burn in the back of my throat and the sting of the fumes. It started me crying all over again.

  Mitch pulled me to my feet and took me in his arms.

  “Connie, sometimes things happen for a reason,” Mitch said softly. “This is one of those times. You know damned well that I have no love for Washington. I helped the President when the Government needed a different approach to problems, but that’s as deep as my involvement with politics goes. This is no great loss… it’s an opportunity for us. It’s a chance for you and I to be ourselves and to build a relationship away from prying eyes. If we seize this moment, it could be the start of a life-long future.”

  I cuffed away the tears and sniffed. I searched Mitch’s eyes. I could see that he meant every word he said, and I could see that he believed.

  I nodded. My lips were trembling. I took a few huffing little breaths to compose myself and then fell into his strong arms where it was safe.