For the Love of Gina: The President's Girlfriend
Page 6
Gina leaned her head back and squeezed his hair as he sucked her, enjoying every second of his attention, and then he lifted her into his arms and started kissing her on the mouth again. For more than a few minutes they stood there, kissing passionately, as the sound of the movie downstairs gave way to the silence of their room upstairs. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, and her vagina was pressed against his rock-hard stomach, and the longer he kissed her, the more desperate for more she became.
Dutch was getting desperate too, as her firm ass sat on his stiff, fully extended penis, causing it to throb in waves of sensation. But he couldn’t stop kissing her. Not yet. He tongued her long and hard, and their tongues intertwined into a smacking, circling, pressing kind of kiss that made Gina almost want to cum.
But when Dutch laid her on the bed, opened her legs, and began licking her and kissing her between those legs, those feeling escalated and caused her to arch her back and lift her ass. But her lifting gave him even better access. He placed his hands beneath her ass and slipped his tongue deep into her vagina. He began licking her with the longest, deepest licks Gina ever felt. Her small hands were squeezing the bedspread, causing it to loosen its grip on the mattress, as he kept going deeper and deeper down on her.
“Dutch, that’s enough,” she was saying, as her naked, brown body swayed from side to side. “I can’t take any more!”
But he knew her. She could take it. Her protestations, in fact, only increased his desire to eat more of her wet, juicy pussy, taking her in full gulps into his mouth, as he went down even harder on her still.
Gina thought she was going to die from the intensity alone, but when Dutch finally eased up and looked up at her, to make sure he was reading her right, she guided his head back between her legs.
“Don’t stop,” she said. “Don’t you dare stop!” She couldn’t bear it, she couldn’t take it anymore, but she would kill him if he stopped!
He gladly kept going. He put his face back between her legs and his tongue back between her folds. And he went down on her deeper still. She arched and screamed with joy as every inch of her vagina pulsated with the sensations of his tongue.
Until she started to cum. She couldn’t hold out a moment longer. And Dutch, realizing that her organism was beginning, hurried up to her, put his dick deep inside of her, and stoked her cumming.
Gina couldn’t stop pulsating as he kept thrusting into her. With every thrust was a new round of pulsations, with every stroke of his dick brought a new round of throbs, until she finally, ultimately, ebbed out.
But Dutch was just beginning. He was lying on top of her now, holding her, still thrusting into her. His hands were on the side of her gorgeous face as he stroked her, and he started kissing her again.
“You’re going to give me some?” he asked her between kisses, his voice almost hoarse with breathlessness.
She knew what he meant. “Yes,” she said.
“Need more salve?” he asked her.
“No,” she said. “It’s enough.”
And then he lifted up, and she turned onto her stomach, and he put it in, slowly, gently, until it was all in.
Gina felt the pain, it never got painless even after all these years, but the more he fucked her, the less pain she felt. By the time he was in his full rhythm, the pain was so low-level that she was able to dismiss it. She was able to go with it and pulsate with sensual excitement again from the mere thought of her husband doing her this way.
Dutch laid down on top of her, her ass pushed up and fully covered by his big body, as he fucked her long and hard. It was something about Gina’s ass that made him crazy with desire sometimes. And he had to have her like this. He had to have her in the worse way.
He kept pumping her, and fucking her, and holding her so tightly that Gina felt as if he was going to squeeze the life out of her. He never did her long this way. He knew it wasn’t an easy way for her. But he did it longer than usual this time. Not because he wanted to, but because the feel of her tight ass pressing against him, and the tightness inside of her, made him feel so relaxed and so on the marvelous verge of cum that he couldn’t cum right away. He couldn’t release that wonderful feeling.
Until that verge of cum became so intense that he couldn’t help but let it out.
He came. Hard and swift like a breaking tide, as he poured into his wife. It was so intense that Gina felt it in her pussy too, and began to have another orgasm. She was screaming with delight as he kept thrashing into her, and filling her so full that it began to stream out of her, down her ass, down her thighs.
And he kept fucking her. He couldn’t stop thrashing her. He laid on top of her, and she took the brunt of his weight and his sex, as he pumped her as if he was pumping iron. The sound of him smacking her ass roared throughout the room, and they both enjoyed the intenseness of the ride. Until her orgasm eased and he made his final push in. Then he waited, they waited, for the marvelous throbbing and sensations to end.
When it was finally over, he kissed her and then began the very slow, very gentle process of pulling out of her. He was in so deep, and had become so enlarged, that it actually was just as painful to her as when he first entered her. He eased and eased out of her until his big, still-rock hard rod was completely out and dripping with cum.
Gina turned her face sideways and smiled. Dutch kissed her again. “I love you,” he said.
“After that, you’d better,” she replied.
Dutch smiled and got off of her, smacking her now overworked ass as he did, and then pulled her into his arms.
After they showered together, and Dutch cleaned her out thoroughly, he fell asleep in bed. Gina, however, got out of bed, put on her bathrobe, and went back downstairs, to finish watching movies with Little Walt.
“Where’s Daddy?” Walt asked as soon as she came back down.
“Sleep,” she said, as Walt got off of the beanbag and climbed onto her lap.
“Why is he sleep? Daddy’s tired?”
Gina glanced at the Nanny, whom, she could tell, wanted to smile. Which caused Gina to smile herself. After that round of lovemaking they’d just completed, tired wasn’t the word for Dutch. “Exhausted,” she said.
“But the second movie’s already on,” Walt said.
“I know baby, and Daddy would be down here if he could. But he’s tired.”
And Walt, whose attention span was no greater than any other child his age, returned his attention to the movie.
CHAPTER SIX
Brandy Clarke walked through the revolving doors of the mighty Harber Industries feeling as if she was out of her depth, but she kept walking anyway and headed for the reception desk. The receptionist, a pleasant woman on the verge of plumpness, greeted her as she arrived.
“Welcome to Harber Industries,” she said. “How may I assist you?”
Brandy swallowed hard. She wasn’t quite sure how she would handle this, but she knew she had to be blunt. “I’m here to see the president,” she said.
The receptionist was immediately doubtful. “The president?”
“Yes, ma’am. Former President Dutch Harber.”
“Do you have an appointment with the president?”
Brandy hesitated. “No,” she said. “But he’ll be wanting to see me.”
The receptionist smiled. This straggly haired southern slip of a girl couldn’t possibly have an appointment with President Harber. “And why would he want to see you, ma’am?” she asked her.
Brandy braced herself. “I’m his mistress,” she said. “He’ll be wanting to see me.”
The smile immediately left the receptionist face, and she became suddenly flustered. She didn’t know what to do. This was a first for her. She knew the woman could be some crackpot or worse. But she also, incredibly, could be the real deal. She glanced at the security people in the lobby, but she wasn’t sure if she should share such sensitive information with them. She therefore asked Brandy to have a seat, and telephoned her supervisor.
But his intercom buzzed in the middle of his meeting. He pressed it. “Yes, Win, didn’t I tell you I was in a meeting?”
“It’s not Wendy, Chris,” the voice on the other end said. “It’s Vera.”
Vera supervised the support staff, the secretaries and receptionists. Why would she be calling him? “Yes, what is it?” he asked, confused.
“Am I on speaker?” she asked. “If I am, take me off.”
Christian hesitated, and then picked up the telephone. “You’re off,” he said.
“There’s a young woman here, a Miss Brandy Clarke, who claims to be . . .”
“She claims to be what?”
“She claims, quite frankly, to be the president’s girlfriend.”
Christian frowned. “What?”
“She says she’s the president’s girlfriend, Chris. She’s downstairs, at the reception desk, making this claim.”
“Where are you?”
“Down here with her.”
“Stay down there,” Christian ordered. “Don’t have her talking to anyone else or explaining anything to you. It’s probably nonsense, but just to be sure.”
“I understand.”
“I’ll get back with you.”
Christian then hung up the phone, his face unable to shield his concern. Then he looked at Jeff, his assistant. “Review the rest of the agenda with the staff,” he said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Will do, Chris,” Jeff said, and Christian left his office.
He took the elevator to the top floor, to the Office of the President of Harber Industries, who also happened to be the former President of the United States, and his mind was going nuts. On an emotional level, he knew it couldn’t be true. No way would Dutch do that to Gina. But he also had to admit that a small part of him wasn’t a hundred percent sure.
Christian was like a son to Dutch. He had once been his son-in-law, after Christian’s short but tumultuous marriage to Jade, but he had also been Dutch’s personal assistant when Dutch was a bachelor and was first elected president. It was his job back then to coordinate, among many other things, Dutch’s various women. And there were plenty back then. It wasn’t an easy job. Could this woman, Christian wondered, be one of them? There was always a private side to Dutch, a side that suggested that there was more to him than meets the eye. And Christian couldn’t say if it was a good more, or a bad more. But more than meets the eye. Could this woman be a part of that side of Dutch?
The elevator door opened to a top floor filled with rows and rows of desks. These were Dutch’s senior staffers, people who were just below Christian’s pay grade, but above the pay grade of the executive assistants. He walked up to the desk of Dutch’s personal secretary, Jessica Tanning, and asked if he could see him.
“You cannot,” she responded.
Christian waited for her to tell him why not, but she didn’t go there with him. But that put Christian in a bad spot. He didn’t know what to say to her. He just stood there and ran his hand through his blond hair. He could just wait until the president could see him. He could wait it out. But what if that woman downstairs became impatient, and started yelling it out? Dutch would murder Christian if that were to happen, especially if there was some truth to her accusation. But then again, Dutch would murder Christian if he disturbed him over what was probably a bunch of nonsense to begin with. He was in a tough spot.
“It’s really important, Jess,” he decided to say.
“How important?” Jessica asked.
Christian wasn’t about to involve any more people than were already involved. “Personal,” he said.
Jessica studied him. Christian was never one for hyperbole and over-exaggerations. She decided she’d better at least contact the president.
Dutch was sitting behind his desk when her call came through. His desk was loaded with paperwork, and he didn’t have a moment to spare before his next series of meetings, but he answered her buzz.
“What?” he asked, and by the sharpness of his tone Jessica and Christian both felt concerned that this could backfire on them.
“Christian is here to see you, sir,” Jessica said. “He says it’s of a very personal matter.”
Christian didn’t like the fact that Jess had added “very” when he had said no such thing, but it was probably the only way to get him in that door. And he needed to see the president.
Dutch exhaled. He assumed it was about Jade. She probably phoned Christian to get him to change Dutch’s mind about her furlough. “Send him through,” Dutch replied.
Christian felt at least relieved that he would get the audience with the president he needed. So he walked inside, closed the double-doors of the massive office, and made his way up to Dutch’s desk.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you, sir.”
“What is it?” Dutch continued to review the files on his desk as he removed one stack and picked up another stack.
Christian swallowed hard. “A woman is downstairs to see you, sir.”
“Uh-hun,” Dutch said, still distracted, still thumbing through those files.
Again, Christian exhaled. “She says she’s your mistress, sir.”
Dutch smiled as he continued to thumb through files. “Oh, yeah? Who is she? Julia Roberts? Sandra Bullock? Diana Ross? Who?”
Christian didn’t see how this was a laughing matter. “Some woman named Brandy Clarke,” he said.
To his amazement, the president stopped cold. And looked up at Christian. “Brandy Clarke?”
“Yes, sir,” Christian said, surprised by his reaction. “She said she was your---”
“I know what she said,” Dutch said with a frown. Then he looked away from Christian, as if he was in deep thought.
Christian just stood there, stunned that it could be true. And if it wasn’t, why was the president looking so concerned?
Dutch looked back up. “Where is she?”
“Downstairs. Vera Atkins phoned me. She’s downstairs with her.”
“Go get her.”
“Vera?”
“The woman, Christian. Miss Clarke. Put her in your office and wait there with her.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it right away, sir.”
“And Chris,” Dutch said, prompting Christian to turn back toward him. “You remind Vera and anybody else with info on this matter about their confidentiality agreements.”
It was serious. Christian knew it now. “Yes, sir,” he said. He waited for the president to remind him, too, but he didn’t. He knew he didn’t have to.
When Christian left, Dutch leaned back in his chair. His face had the look of a man who was remembering a hellish time. And anguish appeared on his face.
“Dear Lord,” he said, in a pained voice.
Jade and her mother sat on the visitor’s patio at Hammersmith Gardens and sipped tea from teacups. Jade, however, still seemed distant. Sam knew why, as she looked at her.
“Heard from your father?” she asked her daughter.
“He called.”
“What did he say?”
“What he always says. Nothing.”
Sam exhaled. “He didn’t change his mind?”
“No.”
“You could have come and stayed those two days with me, you know. The court allows you two days per month to stay away from this place. They didn’t revoke your furlough, you just refused to use it.”
>
“What was the point? I want to be with Daddy. I see you all the time. But he wouldn’t change his mind. And he never will. Not while Gina’s around.”
Sam sipped more tea. “You know what the answer is to that particular problem.”
“Of course I know! Gina needs to get out of the picture, then my father can see the rest of us.”
Sam nodded. “You diagnosed it right. I’m proud of you. But I hope you realize how difficult a proposition such a cure for your diagnosis will be.”
“I know it’ll be difficult.”
“It won’t be easy.”
“I know it won’t.”
“You’ll never be the same again, if we go down this road.”
“I know that too.” Then Jade looked at her. “What? You have a plan?”
Sam nodded her head. “I know a man with a plan,” she said. “And if his plan works, it’ll shake things up for us in a powerful, beautiful way. It’ll turn our miserable world inside out, Jade.”
“And what about Gina?” Jade asked. “What will this plan do for her miserable world?”
Sam smiled. That was the beauty of it. “It’ll turn her world upside down,” she said, “until she won’t have a world to turn.”
Jade stared at her mother. Was she telling the truth, or just trying to make her feel better? But her sometimes harsh, always strict mother never, not ever played games. And that fact alone caused Jade to feel much better. And to slowly smile that old familiar, reptilian smile that still made Sam’s skin crawl.
By the time Dutch entered Christian’s office, Christian had adjourned the meeting and had cleared the room, and he and Brandy were seated quietly at his conference table. As soon as Dutch walked in, Christian stood up. Brandy remained where she was. He was the former president, but she had no respect for this man.
“Hello, sir,” Christian said.
Dutch stared at Brandy as he walked up to the table, his hands in his pants pockets, his suit coat still buttoned. He stood at the table, staring at Brandy while Brandy stared up at him. Then he unbuttoned his suit coat, and sat directly across from her.