She gestured to the photograph on the wall, “That’s Yosemite?”
He nodded, “Stunning, isn’t it?”
“It really is. Protect it.”
“I’m trying,” he announced, and he took his position in the wingback chair opposite her. For a few minutes neither of them spoke. He’d had a long day, and was thinking only of which book he would settle down with before falling asleep — probably in that same chair. The presidency was not as glamourous as one imagined.
“Well good,” she said awkwardly, in an attempt to force conversation. “I really think it’s in our country’s best interests for the president to be a conservationist. Future Americans should enjoy Yosemite too.”
“I don’t disagree, though it’s a bit of a reach getting around the Constitution.”
“I imagine you’ll find a way to reach around,” she smiled.
He wasn’t sure how to take that, so he simply didn’t respond. He was never completely comfortable interacting with people to begin with, and he had the feeling she was flirting with him which was extraordinarily off-putting. Even if he’d known what to say, his now-dry mouth would’ve prevented the words from escaping.
“Oh, do you want me to turn on the lights?” She asked, helpfully. His eyes widened in panic and he shook his head.
“That’s,” he cleared his throat, “it’s dangerous.”
She laughed, “I don’t think it is, but we can sit in the dark, sure.”
He calmed down. He was still suspicious of this new electric lighting, though he tried to keep that close to the vest. Of course, his plan to read all night depended on being able to see, and now he’d just wasted his opportunity to let someone else risk her life around the electrocution device.
“I’m bored,” she admitted, sighing. “Do you want me to suck you off?”
He couldn’t tell if she was serious. He hoped she was serious, but joke would be on him if he dropped his pants and it turned out she was just messing around. Women did things like that. In his experience, women didn’t bop through life offering oral sex.
“I uh. What?” (Nice response, Benny, he chided himself.)
She laughed. “Sorry to spring that on you.”
“No!” He nearly yelled. “Not springing nothing sprung please um I didn’t know if — what.”
“Well this is fun,” she leaned forward in the chair. It was a posture unbecoming a woman, but as she gestured him closer it didn’t matter. He approached her, cautiously, still expecting she was mocking him and he, as usual, just didn’t understand it. She drew him closer, still seated, and her warm breath on his body finally convinced him she meant business and it wasn’t the kind of business prohibited by the Sherman Antitrust Act.
She opened the buttons on his pants. At her suggestion he’d felt them tighten, but he’d kept himself in check. She didn’t mind he wasn’t ready yet; it wouldn’t take long.
“I can’t.. You don’t really have to do this,” he choked out.
“You want it, don’t you baby?”
He nodded and immediately felt her mouth on him. She teased him, moving slowly, coaxing him to his full girth. It did not take much coaxing.
“Ohhhhh,” he moaned. “Th-that feels amazing.”
Her response was to take him deeper, sliding him in and out. She spit on him, alternating between hand and mouth, tending to him with the same care she expected him to tend to civil rights. It also did not escape her notice that his grooming habits were impeccable.
“Oh fuck fuck fuck you are an angel. Don’t stop.”
She stopped, only to look up at him mockingly. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Ok well,” he inhaled. “Just checking.”
She swallowed him again, and he hit the back of her throat. He moaned as she worked her mouth, quickening her pace and paying close attention to his responses. He knew he wanted to release inside her, hopeful it was the diplomatic way to finish. Diplomacy was important to him. She wanted to take her time with him; it was a point of pride to afford him her top shelf tongue adventure. She slowed, and ran her tongue up and down his shaft. Then, taking just the head into her mouth, she pursed her lips and applied gentle suckling pressure, all the while swirling her tongue over him. It was bringing him closer, and she could tell by his grip that he was nearing orgasm.
She released him again, briefly, and he looked down at her on her knees in front of him. He almost begged her to take it back, but he was currently struggling with how words worked.
“Don’t want you finishing too soon,” she explained, punctuating her sentence with another lick. He shuddered, both loving and hating this moment. He wanted to get off, just not for it to end.
“You are.. So good at that,” he breathed.
“I do what I can,” she took him inside her again, moving her mouth up and down, soaking him. She wanted him to come now, and began to speed up. She swallowed him, then pulled back, then let him thrust back into her willing mouth. She liked him, quiet and odd as he was. She appreciated he didn’t mind spending money for Civil War pensioners or the protection of natural resources, though her affection was more for his policies than his person. Still, wrapping her mouth around his warship was her preferred method of thanking him for his service (like him she was very pro the merit system), and it was also the most political power a lady could exhibit.
“Like Lysistrata,” she muttered aloud, and ironically into his crotch. He reacted to the feeling of her lips, but she knew he hadn’t heard her. She stopped thinking so much and refocused on him, using her hand now to stroke the base of his cock, and encouraging him to pump faster. She enjoyed his progression from scandalized by her suggestion to full on humping her face. She took him as far into her throat as she could manage, gagging on him.
“Baby oh god I’m I’m fuck mmmmmf,” he devolved into nonsense words and guttural sounds, and she felt him release in her mouth. She took it, swallowing before she had time to think about it. In her experience, thinking ruined sex most of the time.
For his part, he was trying to stand, looking for anything to prop him up. He looked down at her, wide-eyed and sweating. She smiled up at him, wiping her lips. He was exhausted, spent like his billion dollar Congress.