Yes, Mr President

by Jean-Luc Cheri

  “Be sure to introduce me to him.”

  “I will.”

  She pressed a button on her phone. The President’s voice came over her speaker. “Yes, Betty?”

  “Sarah’s ready to see you. Do you have time now?”

  “Send her in.”

  My heartbeat picked up as we stood, and Mrs. Marshall opened the door. “I’ll have your letters on your desk when you get back,” she said.

  I went down the hall to the Oval Office, and knocked on the main door.

  “Come in,” President Remington said.

  I opened the door and entered, closing the door behind me.

  “Leave it open,” he said.

  I opened it back up, feeling chagrined. Then I walked over to his desk, where he was sitting.

  “You wanted to see me?”

  “Yes. I wanted to let you know that two o’clock would be a good time for your father to come by. Is that good for him?”

  “I’m sure any time would be good for him.”

  “Very well. Tell him to get here a half hour early for the security screen. Sorry, but it has to be done.”

  I smiled. “He’ll probably enjoy that too.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I said that in my excitement of meeting you, I gave you a hug. And that you had sternly lectured me that that was inappropriate. I told him I thought you were disappointed in me, and that I thought it was best that I quit before you had me fired.”

  He nodded. “That’s good. I’ll stick to that story. And Sarah?”

  “Yes?”

  “The reason I asked you to leave the door open, is that there can’t even be a hint of impropriety between us. Whatever we have must be separate from our jobs here. When other people are around, I’m the president and you’re the intern. And that’s the extent of it. Do you understand?”

  I nodded. “I realized that as soon as you reminded me. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

  “Good.” His expression lightened as he smiled slightly. “I’m looking forward to meeting your father again.”

  I grinned. “Not as much as he is.”

  Chapter 10

  As I walked back to my office, I passed Chief-of-Staff Jack McGraw in the hallway. We walked by each other, and he turned to me. I smiled and kept on going, but then he spoke.

  “Sarah Hayes?”

  I turned, once again surprised that someone famous knew my name.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you have a moment?”

  I felt a surge of excitement. The Chief-of-Staff had an assignment for me? “Yes. What do you need?”

  “Follow me, please.” He walked down the hallway, and I trailed behind. He led me into his office, and closed the door behind us.

  “Have a seat, please.”

  I sat in the seat in front of his desk, and he sat behind it. He leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head, and studied me for a long moment. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, and realized this wasn’t going to be an official conversation.

  He was lean and tall, with jet black hair and watchful eyes. He was known for his fierce loyalty to President Remington, and had even earned the nickname of ‘Jack-knife’ by the President’s critics.

  Now his shark-like eyes were studying me, and after a long moment, I couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “Is there anything you want?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Something I can do for you?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “Just name it, sir. I’m new here, but I’ll try hard to do my best.”

  “What you can do for me, Sarah, is assure me President Remington is going to make it to the end of his term, and possibly have another one.”

  My eyes opened wide. “Excuse me?”

  He leaned forward in his chair, his dark eyes locked on mine. “I’ve been friends with Max since we were frat buddies in college. I know him better than anyone. I also know just about everyone who works in the residence, so I’m aware of your dinner with him two nights ago.”

  “It was wonderful. It’s always been my dream to see that part of the White House.” I met his eyes with mine, but my heart was beating wildly.

  “I’m going to be frank with you, Sarah. What you and the President do is your business. But it’s my job to protect him. I trust Max’s judgment, so if he likes you, so do I. But if you ever do anything to hurt him, privately or politically, you and I aren’t going to be friends anymore, and I guarantee that’s not going to be pleasant for you. Are we clear?”

  My eyes never left his. “There’s nothing going on between us. So you have nothing to worry about.”

  He stared at me a long moment, then nodded. “That’s good.” I wasn’t sure if he was commenting on what I said, or my performance.

  “Is there anything else you need, Mr. McGraw?”

  “No, that will be all.” He picked up a pen and began writing on a legal pad.

  I got up and walked to the door, where something occurred to me. I turned back to face him.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  He looked up from his writing. “Yes.”

  “Do you give this speech to all the interns?”

  He laid his pen down and stared at me. For a moment, I thought he was going to get angry, but instead, he said, “Just the ones the President shows an interest in.”

  “Oh,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. “Thank you.” I turned away.

  “Miss Hayes?”

  I turned back. “Yes?”

  “And you’re the first.”

  I tried to hide my surprise, but he was studying me too intently to miss it.

  He gave me a knowing look, and said, “So, tread carefully, my dear.”

  I gave him a shrug. “There’s nothing going on, so there’s nothing to be careful about.”

  His lips curled into a smile. “I’m starting to like you. Have a good day.”

  I gave him a slight smile in response, holding my biggest grin back until I turned and walked down the hallway.

  Chapter 11

  My dad had a great time, and President Remington dialed up his charm to full power as we made our way through the White House. It was pretty much the same tour I had been given, minus the dinner and intimate encounter on the promenade.

  One addition was the master bedroom suite, which, for some reason, my dad was interested in seeing. He had been a big fan of the Reagans, and I wondered if he got a little thrill out of seeing the room where they ‘did it’ – my father’s favorite expression for sex.

  One look at the bedroom made it clear that the President was a bachelor. No respectable First Lady would allow such a room to exist in her house. Decorated in dark browns and greens, it featured rich leather furniture and a beautiful oak four-poster bed. On the wall opposite the bed was an outrageously large flat-screen television. The other walls were filled with autographed photos of sports stars standing next to the President. A real man cave.

  While any of the other rooms in the house would be completely at home on the cover of Home and Garden magazine, this room was more suited for Field and Stream, or maybe Sports Illustrated.

  But, as the President and my father went through the photos, I couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the bed. I felt a flutter in my tummy as I wondered if my future held an encounter in there with the President. From what had happened between us last night, I thought the chances were very good. Who knows, this might be the room where I finally lose my virginity.

  When we got back to the Oval Office, the official White House photographer took some pictures of my dad and the President together, and promised to send him copies. We even got one of the three of us together, and the President stood between us, casually resting his hands on our shoulders. I silently hoped the camera didn’t pick up the spark of lust in my eyes caused by his touch on me.

  Turns out that the President didn’t have to use one of his air force planes to get my dad home. His secretary
made some calls, and discovered one of his supporters was flying his Learjet to California today anyway, and it wouldn’t be a problem to drop my dad off in San Jose.

  After introducing Dad to Mrs. Marshall, I walked him out to where one of the black Secret Service SUVs was waiting to take him to the airport. He had tears in his eyes as he hugged me, telling me it had been a wonderful day and that he was so proud of me. I cried too when he told me that, and kissed him on the forehead.

  “Love you, Dad.”

  “I love you too, baby.”

  He got in and I waved goodbye as the SUV pulled out.

  Chapter 12

  I got all my letters done by five, so Mrs. Thorndike, the President’s secretary, was still in. She told me the President was in a meeting with a couple of senators, but I could go in and put them on his desk.

  I pushed the door open and went into the Oval Office. I recognized the two senators immediately. The first was Bill Oakley from New York, the Senate Minority Leader, and the other was Marie Quinn, the Senate Majority Leader, who was from my home state of California. I had met her when she spoke at Stanford’s commencement two years ago. The three of them were sitting around a small table in the middle of the room and talking quietly.

  I went to the President’s desk and laid the stack of letters on it. I was almost back at the door when his voice stopped me.

  “Miss Hayes, are you leaving for the day?”

  I turned. “I was planning on it, unless there’s something you need me to do?”

  “Nothing right now. But I was wondering if you could come back later so we could go over those letters?”

  My heart beat faster. “That wouldn’t be a problem. What time would you like me to return?”

  “Eight would be good.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Now that’s dedication,” Senator Quinn said, giving me a smile.

  I smiled back. “Thank you, Senator.”

  I stopped for something to eat on the way home, steering clear of Filibuster’s and Jamie’s odd fascination with me. Back at my apartment, I took a nice long soak in the tub, preparing myself physically and emotionally for my visit with the President this evening. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but I knew something was, and I felt the warmth of anticipation beginning between my legs.

  Would tonight be the night I would finally discover what it felt like to have a man inside of me? Having seen the President up close and intimate, I felt a spark of fear. How much would he hurt me with his size?

  I allowed my hand to slide down between my legs, under the water. Cupping myself gently, I slipped one finger between my labia, feeling the difference between the water and my slick fluids. Teasing over my clit, I gasped in pleasure, and I considered continuing to orgasm in order to take the edge off. But I decided I enjoyed the edge, and wanted to go to him with my raw desire intact.

  I dressed in a matching white bra and panties, and a white blouse with a gray skirt. The perfect business attire for a White House intern. I certainly didn’t want to raise any eyebrows with my clothes.

  I was worried the Marine guards would ask why I was returning at this late hour, but I guess they were used to people coming and going at any time, because they treated me no differently than they did in the morning.

  After dropping my purse off at my desk, I went straight to the Oval Office. The door was closed, so I knocked.

  “Come in,” the President said.

  I entered, and was surprised to discover he wasn’t alone. Chief-of-Staff McGraw was sitting in the chair opposite the President’s desk. He turned to look at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back.”

  “No, we’re almost finished here. Have a seat.” The President waved towards the small table in the center of the room.

  “Good evening, Miss Hayes,” Mr. McGraw said, his eyes studying me.

  “Hello, Mr. McGraw,” I replied, feeling self-conscious under his gaze.

  I sat at the table, and tried not to listen to their conversation, but it was impossible, since they spoke in normal voices and obviously weren’t concerned that I was there.

  “So, Jack, how serious do you consider this threat?”

  “The CIA tells me this source has given them reliable information in the past.”

  The President frowned. “Anything more specific? Dates or places?”

  “Not at this time.”

  “Ok. Inform John at the Secret Service, but I don’t want this to change anything.”

  “Mr. President, I think that’s a bad idea. We should at least cut back on your travel. Eliminate the non-essential trips.”

  The President shook his head. “I refuse to give into these people. I’m not going to hide out here, cowering in fear.”

  “Maybe at least until we find out more?”

  “No, Jack. I have a job to do, and they’re not going to keep me from it.”

  Jack sighed. “As you wish. I’ll let John know.” He stood.

  “Thank you, Jack. Have a great evening. Tell Jenny I said hello.”

  “Thanks. You too, sir.”

  He walked by me towards the door. “Evening, Miss Hayes.”

  “Goodnight.”

  After the door clicked shut, I turned back to the President. “I couldn’t help but overhearing. Are you in danger?” I felt my heart racing.

  He was writing notes on a pad, and gave no indication he had heard me. I was about to repeat my question, when he said, “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  So I waited. He finished a full page of notes, and started on a second. It wasn’t until ten minutes later he laid down his pen.

  “Come here,” he said.

  I got up and moved to the chair in front of his desk.

  “I didn’t tell you to sit down.”

  I immediately stood back up.

  His eyes locked on mine. I saw no trace of a smile in his expression.

  “Miss Hayes, we have a problem.”

  I looked at him in surprise. “What problem?” I knew this was too good to be true. I was going to be fired.

  “This concerns your running away from me yesterday.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You caused me a great deal of worry. And I had to come after you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I need to be sure something like that doesn’t happen again.”

  “I promise you, it won’t.”

  “Promises are nice, but I think we need something a little more effective.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He stood and walked around the desk to stand next to me. His closeness caused a slight shudder of pleasure to run through me.

  “I think you need to be taught a lesson. So that you learn not to repeat this action.”

  “I won’t do it again.”

  “Just words, Miss Hayes. Just words.” His hand rested on the curve of my backside, causing me to shudder again.

  “You need to be punished, so this lesson stays with you. Don’t you agree?”

  I felt a bubble of wetness burst softly between my legs. “If you want.”

  “I asked you if you agreed.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, Mr. President, I deserve to be punished.”

  “Lean forward and put your hands on the desk.”

  I did as he asked, placing my hands on the edge as I stared down at the ornate presidential seal carved into the wood at the front.

  His hand caressed me through the skirt, following the curve of my ass as he traveled downward. Reaching the hem, he pulled the skirt up, revealing my panties to his gaze.

  Moving his other hand to the small of my back, he pressed down, causing my spine to arch and my ass to stick up more prominently. He continued to touch me softly, running his hands over the silky material of my panties and my smooth skin. I moaned softly.

  Then his hand was gone, and I lifted my ass slightly, w
anting it to return. Suddenly, it did, as he brought it down hard on my cheek with a loud slap that echoed off the walls.

  “Uhhh,” I groaned.

  Quickly, his hand rose and came down again, right on the same spot. I felt the heat of where he had struck me, and it spread immediately to my pussy, causing another gush of wetness.

  Two more times his palm came rapidly down, this time on the other cheek, spreading the heat to that side.

  “Oh god,” I moaned.

  His fingers moved to the waistband of my panties, and I felt him pulling them down. As they slid over my hips, I felt the wet material separate from my engorged slit, replaced by the cool air of the room.

  He pushed the panties down my legs to my knees, where they stretched between them. His hand then moved back up to my ass, lightly caressing my inflamed skin. His fingertips teased between my cheeks, tickling my soft pubes as they grazed over my outer labia.

  Then, he struck me again, and then again, and it felt like a fire had begun on my skin.

  “Ohhhh,” I breathed out slowly.

  His hand once again dipped down between my legs, sliding a finger between my lips, spreading my slickness around. Then he was back for two more sharp slaps on my other cheek, causing me to grunt in surprise.

  “Do you deserve more punishment?” he asked.

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  “Move up onto the desk.”

  I allowed my panties to slip to the floor, then stepped out of them, placing first one knee, and then the other, up on the desk. His hand was at my back again, holding me down so that my head and shoulders were pressed against the smooth wooden surface, and my ass stuck in the air. He flipped my skirt up onto my back, and I felt the cool air on my skin. I groaned again, the thought of him seeing me completely exposed like this sending shivers of pleasure through me.

  He positioned himself behind me, laying both hands on my ass cheeks, soothing my hot skin. But just at the pain began to recede, his hand came down again, hard on my bare skin, sending my nerve endings into a delirious storm of fire and pleasure.

  “Yessss,” I hissed.

  He struck me several more times, alternating between cheeks, stinging my sensitive skin with loud, hard slaps. Each explosion of hot pain went straight to my pussy, igniting tight spasms of desire. I felt wetter than I had ever been in my life, and I imagined it dripping down onto the desk.