22.

clevey

There are times in a young woman’s life when she questions her choices.

She was a human person with needs, after all, but there were plenty of discreet men in Washington who didn’t drive her mad. Yet, here she was with this one, and the smug look on his face was enough to make her barf.

“You are all talk,” he chuckled, loosening his tie.

“Stuff it,” came her swift retort.

“Well put. Didn’t I bet you that you’d return?”

She tossed a coin at him, anticipating this. “Lucky for me you’re fiscally conservative.”

“It’s not the money that interests me. Would you like a bourbon?”

“I’m a lady.”

“Over ice then,” he confirmed, fixing her drink and settling back in the desk across from her. She accepted her beverage, but hoped it was in a way that suggested protest.

“How do you live with yourself?” She asked. “There are people out there who need your help.”

“Well, this may surprise you little girl, but it’s actually not the role of my government to help everyone.”

“It should be.”

“Why are you annoyed with me today?” He leaned back in his chair with a casual nonchalance suggesting he didn’t care about her answer.

“The Dawes Act!” She let him rile her even though in heart she knew better. Her heart had shown it could not be trusted.

“You don’t think I should protect Indians?”

“You know damn well that’s not what you’re doing.”

“I’m always honest about my intentions. You plebes love that!”

“You’re honest so you can be dishonest and no one will believe it. I’m onto you.”

He rose, and made his way around the desk to her, “You came to my office. You think I don’t know you could bend over for any number of men? And yet, here you are, so forgive me but I think your outrage is charming.”

“Oh my lord just get inside me before I veto you,” she rolled her eyes.

“I do the vetoes around here,” he replied, spinning her around and aggressively pulling her closer. She liked the feeling of being taken from behind, and of the circumstances almost being beyond her control. As long as he guarded against pregnancy (the man couldn’t afford another illegitimate child scandal), she was content to let him dominate her. On principle, she thought as he pressed his body against her, she should not enjoy this so much. But in reality, feeling him hard against her as his hands groped her willing bosom was titillating. She didn’t hate him as a person, which was the problem; her annoyance with his policies didn’t detract from his affability. This only served to annoy her more.

He nipped at her ear, “You missed this.”

“I did but talk less.”

He laughed, and his warm breath on her neck sent chills down her spine. He pulled up her dress, and his hands grasped her hips. She inhaled sharply as he pulled her closer, using far more force than necessary.

“Am I hurting you?” He asked.

She nodded, “Don’t stop.”

“That’s my girl.”

“Careful, I’m not your child bride,” she teased, towing the line with him. He pushed her forward, toward the desk, and spanked her.

“Someone needs to learn a lesson I think,” he replied, darkly. His mood shifted, as was usual for him, and she heard the grunting as he exposed himself. He held her bent over on the desk, her upper body screaming in discomfort. Then she felt him, erect, tracing her body and preparing to force his way inside. She lifted herself to meet him, making it clear she wanted it even as she also wanted to slap his idiot face. He thrust his cock into her warm slot, taking little care for anything more than his own enjoyment. Despite this, she moaned and begged him to take her. It was the closest she ever got to being nice to him.

His pace slowed as he tired. He wasn’t quite as fit as he’d been previously, and he’d overexerted himself trying to go faster. She could feel his lull, and she stood and turned around. She kissed him, then pulled away:

“Tired, old man?”

“You wear me out,” he grinned. “But I’m not tired.”

“Sit down,” she replied. “I’ll take it from here.”

She pushed him down into the chair, and turned away from him again. He was a reformer who could work with anyone — Republican appointees and Mugwumps included — and yet there was a momentary hesitation as he figured out what she wanted. Then she lowered herself into his lap like he’d lowered tariffs and he figured it out.

She gripped the handles of the chair and leaned forward, giving him a better angle and a more accommodating view of her ass. He loved watching her as she rode him and slid up and down on his staff. He bounced in the chair and she felt him invade her like he refused to invade foreign countries. She was working him hard, and clearly enjoying herself, which drove him crazy. She couldn’t get enough and repositioned again to force him deeper. He again grabbed her hips, surely hard enough to leave bruises. Tomorrow she’d chastise herself for letting him, this ham who’d signed the Chinese Exclusion Act, but for now she welcomed the pain as he went deeper inside her.

“God that is so fucking good,” she admitted. Maybe she was too hard on him; he was a conservative, not the embodiment of evil. And certainly anyone who made her forget politics and grab her ankles on a weekday morning couldn’t be that bad.

Rested, he rose again, and resumed pounding her. He was going to come now and he wanted to wreck her while he did it. He rapidly thrust in and out, going so quickly she was taken aback. She kept encouraging him, loving the way he filled her over and over again. And then finally he shuddered and collapsed. She didn’t trust her legs, and continued to hold the desk. He caught his breath, pleased with himself and his work.

“You know for a man who hates the spoils system,” she mused, trying to put herself back together.

“Spoiling you is different,” he crumpled into his chair, and found the bourbon again like a true Democrat.

“This has to be the last time though,” she declared. “I keep forgetting I hate you and everything you stand for.”

“Oh agreed,” he exhaled, wiping his brow.

Still, he was confident she would be back.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s