by Dirk, Delia
“You think I shouldn't be upset?”
“No. No, it was always human life. I think – Mr. President, you haven't served in the military.”
“No.”
Sarah settled on the couch next to him. Looked off into that consuming little pocket of space people see when their minds are everywhere. “When I was in Kuwait, everyday I woke up and I said to myself, 'well, this is it. This is my last coffee, and my last breakfast, and I won't be coming back here tonight.'”
“You always did, though.”
“Yeah. But it wasn't because I expected it, sir.”
And again he insisted. “Alex.”
“Yeah. Right.”
“I've spent all of today trying to get people to actually use my name. When was the last time anyone said it? When was the last time you said it? When did we start throwing up all these artificial barriers?”
A smile came to rest on Sarah's face. “When you started being my boss.”
“Hah. Well, I hope you know I always thought it'd be you up here. You'd have been good.” He wilted against the seat.
“I never wanted to.”
Now his amusement tasted bitter. “It's a funny job. A unique job, and a lonely one. At some point it drove all my friends insane. I don't recognise them any more.”
“Me included?”
“No.” Alex sighed. “No, no you, Sarah. You're the only one who talks straight to me these days. Now I understand why all my predecessors were family men. It's not just the votes.”
“You may be my boss but you haven't stopped being my friend.”
His misery made him boneless, he was sure he was quite the sight. “I saw Annie Whitehall today. You remember Anne. Jason's mother?”
Sarah stared jaggedly into his face. “Yeah.”
Now it was anger, not misery. Alex ricocheted form one to the next. “This job killed her. Turned her into a fucking zombie.”
“Mr. President-” but he hadn't stopped.
“Not once during our entire dinner did Anne talk to me. 15 years of friendship and she just...” he gestured inarticulately.
Sarah moved to comfort. “You're under enormous pressures most people couldn't imagine.”
“And that makes me a different species?” burst out of him.
“The way you live, you may as well be from different planet!”
Alex made an ugly noise.
“Look, I know things have been tough since Mary died -”
“Tough? It's been hell! You know why people talk to my job instead of me? There's no me left to talk to! It's all been filled up and run over by this damn job!”
“They don't think you're human.”
“Exactly! Don't get me wrong, I expected to work a hell of a lot, but my personal life turned into a nuclear wasteland. And you're right, I can't relate to a normal human being. Not when I have a button that could blow up Bhutan if I wanted it to.”
“Well... it's not a lifetime appointment,” Sarah tried uselessly.
“And God help me if it were! When I took the job, I never thought this'd be what brought me to my knees. A scandal, maybe, or, God forbid, a war. But not this. This, this... emptiness.”
“Alex. Alex, look at me. I know they don't think you're human and, honestly, you're not allowed to be in front of them. But. You're not alone. You can always come to me and we can always talk. I'll always understand because, more than anyone, I'm there too.”
Sarah's expression was tender. She leaned toward Alex.
“Christ, I'm sorry for not realising. The job is Hell, and it takes and it takes from all of us. I mean, it killed my marriage, but people don't recognise me and I can walk down a street without being swamped in armed guards. At the end of the day, I can go home. You live here.
“So yeah,” she continued, “come to me. Come to me if you need somewhere to be human.”
Their kiss was a slow fall. It almost felt like an inevitability. But wasn't, so when it finally happened, it sent a hot shock of pleasure flaring in Alex's belly. He touched nowhere but her lips, as if reaching out, he'd find nothing but unforgiving air.
Sarah pulled back, smoky-eyed, but all Alex could do was stare at her lurid mouth. “This may be a bad idea,” was what she said.
“Ah, yeah, but what isn't when you're me?”
Her kiss was as lopsided as her smirk, catching the corner of his mouth and lingering with tongue-tip until he opened up. Arms got involved and the noise Alex made when he held Sarah was more a rumble than a sigh. Oh, it had been much too long.
His hands trailed up from Sarah's waist to slide over her ribcage and cup her breasts through her too-thick suit-jacket. Too much fabric. Why were they both in suits?
He started to shell his jacket when soft lips brushed his ear. “Not here.”
She was right, of course. How could he have so forgotten himself? Even in his most intimate moments, he had to remember who he was. Where they were.
“Right,” Alex said, “right.” And stood, beckoning and wild-eyed.
Sarah giggled, which took him aback a bit. “Are we going to do this in the Lincoln Bedroom,” she teased.
Do this. Alex wasn't sure if the acknowledgement warmed or terrified him. He tried a laugh. “That room hasn't been redecorated since the man himself lived there.”
She tugged him towards the door. “Then we definitely should. Leave our mark on the place.”
They stumbled half-drunkenly through the master suite to Alex's bedroom, careful of the secret service positioned throughout.
Sarah pushed him up against the rapidly closed bedroom door, biting at his lips none too gently, leaving them red and tender. She rubbed the crotch of his pants with one hand, could feel him respond passionately.
Alex gave as good as he got, pulling her in tight with a hand in her hair and an arm around her waist. Sarah's trapped hand tried ineffectually to work his zipper, but succeded in drawing a ragged groan from his swollen lips.
They were both tearing at buttons, hungry for skin on skin. “Suits,” Alex mumbled hazily, “It's always suits.”
“Wait until the next dinner.” Sarah's top was off. He could almost see her nipples through her bra. “I'll wear something for you. We'll see how long it takes before we have to run back here.”
Alex laughed breathlessly. Her eyes were shining, like translucent marbles. Alex leaned down and swiped his tongue across the top of a breast. Sarah was so warm, so warm, alive, real.
Her hands were in his hair. Alex knelt on the coarse rug before her, tugging off the last of her undergarments so she could stand there, magnificent in her nudity.
Alex mouthed at the inside of a thigh, luxuriating in the soft gasp above him. He slid up, leaving wet snail trails on her kitten-soft skin. He nosed into the soft jungly fur of her cunt, breathing in her musky scent.
His tongue dance out and traced her lips, dipping just so. Sarah's gasp was more like a moan now, her hands falling into his salt-and-pepper hair. He dug deeper, lapping Sarah up, and she shivered above him, making happy animal sounds.
Alex's fingers came into play and her legs eagerly parted further, only staying on her feet by clutching hard at his shoulders. But it could only last so long, and as he explored her wet depths, the trembling grew stronger and Sarah started crying out raggedly. Alex kept his pace steady as she rode out her pleasure above him, feeling her grow wetter and shiver inside.
When Sarah's cries quieted, fingers latched into his hair and tugged Alex back to his feet. She wrapped him in arms and lips, spinning them toward the bed as she palmed his cock.
They toppled over, a tangle of confused limbs, with her kneeling above him. Sarah had his tie in her teeth. Alex stared.
She took it, stretched it between her hands. “You said the job is getting to you, which means you need a little time to let go. Believe me, I can make you totally lose control.”
Alex returned her leer, nodded, smiled. They scrambled up the bed and collapsed back into each other's arms. He pressed a
series of quick nips from her ear down her neck and, while he still could, gripped Sarah's ass, pulling her into his lap. Sarah laughed and surged, thumbing his cockhead. He pinched her buttcheek.
“Hey now,” she scolded, “arms back. Here.”
Sarah took Alex's arms in strong hands and leashed them to the bedpost above his head, leaning so that his vision filled with her breasts. His cock bump-bumped against Sarah's stomach. He tugged but by now the tie was secure.
“Now, what am I going to do to you?” she murmured, her smile devilish.
Sarah climbed off, running her nails down over Alex's chest, stomach, pelvis. A tremor went through him, the sensation leaving gooseflesh in its wake. She sat back and watched as his dick twitched.
“Well I hope you do something,” he said.
“Quiet or I'll have to gag you too.” His dick twitched again. Her smile became a grin.
Sarah leaned over, pressed a kiss to his dancing cock, and hooked her arms under his knees. Alex cried out in surprised when his centre of gravity got lost in the process, but eventually she settled him over her shoulders.
Kisses pressed to his balls, pulling a moan from him. Alex was shockingly exposed like this, open. A far cry from the flawless public figure he had to be. And at that moment he was no more the President of the United States than he was the Queen of England. But God did her tongue ever feel exquisite. Swiping at his balls and trailing lower and lower, sending sparks skittering over his skin. Alex couldn't stop the sounds. Lower, lower...
“W-what are you doing,” he ground out, but all he got was a sharp “Sh!”
It wasn't right, this- what she was doing to him. But it felt incredible. Alex was so sensitive down there and Sarah seemed to know where to press, when to move. Her tongue pushed against the resistance of his hole. He made a choking sound.
“That's good,” she said, “the sounds. They're good. Make some noise for me, Alex.”
And he did, keeping it reined in just enough that the agents outside hopefully wouldn't hear and think he was being assaulted. Not that he wasn't being assaulted.
Curses spilled from Alex's mouth. Moans and groans and cries of pleasure. He strained against the bonds, his cock aching so very badly for some sensation – any sensation at all. Her mouth was relentless.
“Touch me, please, Sarah...”
But she wouldn't. Instead she slicked a finger good and heavy with spit and pressed it against his tight hole. Alex gasped, pushed back, and then it was in past the resistance. He was about to protest the foreign intrusion when she hit something inside him that made him see stars. His hips worked uncontrollably. My god. My god.
“Jesus, what-”
She pressed it again and he almost screamed.
Finger still hooked into him, Sarah worked her way around so she was positioned over him. A couple more blinding pushes of his spot and Alex was about ready to come.
“Stop,” he gasped, “Stop, I'm too close.”
She did. Didn't want this to be over without coming again her self. He took a moment to just breathe.
All too soon he was sinking into her tight cunt. Alex reflexively tried to hold her but couldn't get his arms to budge.
Sarah started up a slow rhythm that didn't last long. Soon he was bucking desperately and she was rolling her hips and her hand was touching her belly and slipping down, down.
She made noises like an animal when she came, guttural and fierce. Her wild clenching was enough to tip him over the edge and Alex spilled into her, his world blanked out but for the waves of stunning sensation.
When they came to their final rest, Sarah leaned back over and untied him, his spent dick slipping out of her and lying limply against a thigh.
They nuzzled into each other, drowsy. It probably wasn't wise for her to stay the night, but they'd worked so many late nights before and scandal was the furthest thing from their minds.
Totally relaxed, Alex drifted into the warm embrace of sleep, secure in the fact that he had somewhere to be human.
FIN
If you enjoyed this story, check out Delia Dirk's other erotic romance, Curves in the Dark:
For curvy businesswoman Domino Ashford, it isn't just love that's hard. Making it in a man's world without being a blonde bombshell was a Herculean task, so love? Love is nothing but an silly daydream.
When an earthquake traps her in a pitch-black elevator with a man she's never met, Dominique can open up in a way she never could to people who could see her. Sparks fly and they're both falling fast, but will the attraction last after the doors open and the cold light of day floods back in?
