Black President

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Black President Page 12

by Brenda Hampton


  “All I need is one agent, right?”

  “Yes, just one. I’ll do my best to protect you too.”

  I hesitated to go, but within the hour, my agent, Bruce, drove me to the park. I saw Michelle sitting on a bench, exactly where she said she would be. I was casually dressed in jeans and a button-down Polo. A cap was on my head, and dark shades shielded my eyes so that no one would recognize me. Michelle stood, and with Bruce following several feet behind us, we began to walk slowly on the trail.

  “I can’t believe that you actually came,” Michelle said with a smile. “And I have to ask, but do you always make yourself available to women like this?”

  “I can’t say that I do. I didn’t mind coming because I needed some fresh air too. Working all the time doesn’t do a body good, and every once in a while, I have to take some time out to do simple things like this or else I’ll go crazy.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to do that, so any time you want to get away from your busy life, you can always reach out to me. I enjoy peaceful walks like this and the smell of nature.” She stopped to inhale. “Along with your cologne, it’s enough to take me there.”

  “Take you where?”

  “Farther into the woods over there, where it’s just a little darker, and, possibly, a bit more romantic.”

  “Romantic? What’s so romantic about being over there?”

  Michelle took my hand, leading the way. Bruce followed, but I asked him to halt his steps as we got closer to an area that was surrounded by very tall trees and a cataract waterfall that offered pure relaxation. Michelle faced me as I was caught up in the beautiful scenery I hadn’t noticed before.

  “Nice, isn’t it?” she said.

  “Yes, it really is.”

  “Sometimes, I just come here late at night to think. A few people join me from time to time, and one couple told me that this is one of their favorite places to come and make love.”

  “I can definitely understand why.”

  “I wouldn’t know, unless I had an opportunity to experience it myself.”

  I didn’t reply, but Michelle removed my cap, then rested her arms on my shoulders. She couldn’t really see my eyes behind the shades, so I removed them before she did. I tucked them in my pocket, then wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her a little closer to me.

  “Let me say this, and I will say no more,” she said. “I sensed that there was something about me that you liked during those press briefings, and the look in your eyes said it all. I was, however, shocked that you asked to meet me, and I’m even more surprised that you’re here. I will make no demands of you, and I don’t want you to feel sorry for me or obligated to speak to me if or when I call you. I understand that you are carrying the burdens of the world on your shoulders, and if we can help each other release some of the stress in our lives for one night, just one night, I’m perfectly fine with that.”

  I wasn’t much of a talker in situations like this, more of a listener. I responded by leaning in, placing my lips on hers. Our tongues danced, and as the juicy kiss intensified, I inched her back to a tree. My hands cuffed her beautiful, smooth face, and I brushed my thumbs against her soft cheeks. While up close and personal, we searched into each other’s eyes. I inhaled, so did she. Her firm breasts rose, touching my chest even more. The short, loose dress she wore provided easy access to her goodness underneath it. I removed the straps from her shoulders and planted delicate kisses along the side of her neck and shoulder. With no bra on, her breasts stood at attention. I gently massaged them, and when her dress hit the ground, exposing her nakedness, my hands traced every curve in her figure. I took a moment to explore it, massage it; the healthiness of her ass cheeks required me to venture there for a while. My hands roamed to other places too, like her hotspot that I slowly stirred with my finger, creating a creamy batter inside of her that prompted me to take off my clothes. She waited patiently. And when I pressed my body against hers, her back squirmed against the tree. Her slanted eyes stared me down; she was so damn sexy and pretty. I grabbed at her natural, wild Afro while passionately kissing her again. The sweet taste was still there, and that’s when I lifted her legs, opened them wide and positioned myself between them. Her back remained against the tree, and she held on tight when I slipped my protected meat into her, stroking at a smooth pace. I could feel her legs trembling, so I secured them around my back, and began to celebrate what I considered to be a damn good day.

  “Stepheeeen,” she moaned as I latched on to her breasts while working my goods in and out of her. “I . . . it’s . . . Is it okay that I call you Stephen?”

  I removed my mouth from her breast, only for a few seconds to answer her. “You can call me whatever comes to your mind. The sound of your sexy voice is like music to my ears.”

  Michelle called me every name in the book, from “baby” to “sweetheart” to “Mr. President,” especially when I turned her around to face the tree and tackled her backside with my fierce tongue, fingers, and lengthy steel. Her healthy cheeks were so perfect as I held them in my hands. We worked our way closer to the waterfall, and I had an even better grip on her cheeks when I lay on my back, guiding her skillful ride on top of me. I could feel the depths of her warm tunnel. The tight grip she had on my shaft and hearing the soothing waterfall in the background made me work harder so we could release our sexual buildup together. It wasn’t long before we did. The sound of our voices echoed loudly, causing my Secret Service agent to rush in and make sure things were good. I confirmed that they were.

  “All good,” I said, shielding Michelle’s body with mine. “Ten minutes, and I’ll be ready.”

  With her back facing me, Michelle kneeled in front of me. She wrapped one of my arms around her waist; directed my other hand to her wetness. “Thirty minutes,” she countered. “He’ll be ready in about thirty or so more minutes.”

  “Take your time, sir,” Bruce said. “I’ll be over there waiting.”

  I was so sure that he was somewhere watching . . . or possibly taking notes. Whatever he was preoccupied with, I took my time with Michelle, stroking, tasting, touching, and licking every part of her sweet-smelling body that I could. In the moment, I felt high. Didn’t come down from my high until I returned to the White House, resuming what I now considered a normal life.

  12

  First Lady Raynetta Jefferson

  I had great days, okay, and bad. Today was a horribly bad day, and I had to shed some tears as I sat on the edge of the bed, looking through the numerous photos of Stephen having passionate sex with Chanel Hamilton on Air Force One. Claire had arranged to get the photos for me. She was very disgusted as she handed the envelope over. Like always, I put on my game face, saying that I didn’t care, even pretended as if I didn’t. But this did something to me. The ugly conversation I had with Stephen did something to me as well. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to blame me for his behavior. He told me to speak my truth, and after all this time, maybe it was time for me to just come out and say that I never wanted any children. I didn’t know how to say it, so I concocted a lie about being brutally raped by my uncle when I was a teenager. I told Stephen that my uncle had cut my insides with a knife, and the damage he’d done prevented me from having children. Before that, I told him that I was pregnant so that he would marry me. When I was forced to come clean about that, he was devastated. There was no question that a trail of lies and deceit followed me, but Stephen had plenty of issues too. This thing with Chanel was eating me alive. Stephen had served her well; I could tell by her expression in each photo. He too seemed to be enjoying himself, and it had been such a long time since I’d seen that satisfied expression on his face. All I witnessed around here was how unhappy he was. He damn sure wasn’t the only one.

  Feeling frustrated, I tossed the photos on the nightstand, then headed to the bathroom to splash water on my tearstained face. Stephen had been away all day. I wasn’t even sure if he was here now. He was probably somewhere celebrating Speaker Rob
inson’s resignation. That was unquestionably a good thing, and yet again, I felt as if this was a turning point in the right direction for Stephen. He would be able to get many things accomplished with the Speaker out of the way. Then again, I wasn’t so sure because many members of the Republican Party hated him with a passion.

  Around midnight, I changed into my nightgown, then climbed in bed. I wondered if Stephen would come to bed tonight, and if he did, I intended to clear my conscience and speak my truth. We hadn’t had a heart-to-heart talk in a long time. After all that had happened, it was time.

  I fluffed my pillow, then lay on my side. My eyes locked on those photos again, and as tears began to well, I shut my eyes, fading into a deep sleep.

  * * *

  The next morning, I woke up to the bright sunrays coming through the window. I squinted, then stretched before looking next to me where there was no Stephen. His side of the bed hadn’t been touched. I figured he must have spent another night in the Oval Office, or the Yellow Oval Room on the second floor, where he chilled a lot too. Nonetheless, we had a big day ahead of us. The White House Correspondence Dinner was tonight. I barely had time to figure out what to wear, but before I did anything, I wanted to free my mind and get some things off my chest. I figured that Stephen was already up and probably in a meeting. I reached for my phone to call Claire so she could tell me exactly where he was.

  “Can you do me a favor and find out where Stephen is this morning? I don’t want to interrupt him if he’s in a meeting.”

  “I’ll look into it and call you back in about five minutes.”

  I laid the phone on the bed and took a deep breath. The direction of my eyes traveled to the nightstand, where I had laid the photos last night. Almost immediately, my heart sank to my stomach—The photos were gone. I jumped off the bed and pulled on the drawer, just in case I put them in there. No luck. I then got on my knees, searching underneath the bed and looking everywhere that I could possibly think of. I didn’t think I put them anywhere else, and the more I thought about it, I was positive that I put those pictures on the nightstand. Stephen probably came in last night, without me knowing it, and removed the photos. I hoped that was the case, especially since no one else had access to this room but us.

  My phone rang, startling me. I quickly snatched it off the bed to answer.

  “His early-morning briefing is done,” Claire said. “He doesn’t have another meeting until noon. After that, he’ll be pretty busy until the correspondence dinner this evening. I’ll be there as well. If you need me to reach out to your stylist I will.”

  “I don’t feel like being bothered with my stylist. She sounds too much like my mother-in-law, always trying to tell me what to wear. I think I can handle what to wear tonight myself.”

  “Okay. If you change your mind, let me know. Meanwhile, after you speak to Stephen, stop by to see me. We need to go over a few things pertaining to your schedule for next week, okay?”

  I told Claire that I would stop by her office. Afterward, I took a quick shower, got dressed, and then made my way to the Oval Office to see Stephen. This time, I had no issues with Secret Service. The agent escorted me inside, where Stephen was speaking to his chief of staff. Andrew said hello to me, and then directed his conversation back to Stephen.

  “I’ll get busy on getting that information to you some time this afternoon.”

  “If you can do it before then, that would be much appreciated. Thanks for your help. I owe you one.”

  Andrew left, leaving us alone. I walked over to the sofa where Stephen was sitting and sat across from him. My hair slipped from the clip, falling in front of my face. I swooped it behind my ears, then cleared the tiny lump in my throat.

  “I’m not going to beat around the bush,” I said. “So are you ready to hear my truth, as you called it?”

  “I’m always ready to hear you speak the truth.” He glanced at his watch. “But it seems as if you’ve had a problem venturing there.”

  “There are times when you’ve been untruthful too, but this isn’t about you right now. It’s about me coming clean.”

  “Coming clean, after you discovered I already knew about your lies? All I need to know is why. Why would you lie to me about something like that?”

  “Because I didn’t want to lose you. After I told you I lost our first child, you wanted another one so badly. That’s all you ever talked about, and I feared that you would divorce me had I told you that I never wanted any children.” I paused as I started to get choked up. “I love children, but I just don’t have the patience. I fear that I won’t be a good mother, and I never truly felt that you were in love with me. I know you married me because you thought I was pregnant. But right after you found out there would be no children, you turned cold toward me. You’ve been that way ever since.”

  Stephen wiped down his clean-shaven face, then massaged his chin. “You’re right. I have been cold, and after I had Andrew check out some things for me, it’s hard for me to even look at you. I’m so angry with you, Raynetta, and there are times when I feel that we just need to end this and be done with it. But now, I’m here. Things have changed, and quite frankly, I need you.”

  “All you need me for is to continue this charade. But how long do you think it will last? This is very difficult for me, and since I know that you don’t love me anymore, I really don’t have a reason to stay.”

  “Who said I didn’t love you anymore? I never said that I wasn’t in love with you.”

  “Your actions say that you don’t. And the way you screwed Chanel’s brains out on Air Force One, it’s apparent that you don’t have any love for me whatsoever. I’m sure you saw yourself in action, since you removed the photos from our bedroom.”

  “I assumed we were being ‘watched’ so I added a little something extra during the festivities. As for photos, I don’t know what photos you’re talking about. I haven’t seen any, but obviously you have.”

  My eyes grew wide. I didn’t know how to respond, especially if I had allowed someone to get a hold of those photos. Then again, maybe Stephen had them and just didn’t want me to know. There was no need to panic—yet.

  “A man who truly loves his wife wouldn’t sit there and say what you just said to me. But, I’m over it. I refuse to keep telling you how to treat me, and showing my disappointment is never enough. In reference to the photos of you and Chanel, they were on the nightstand. When I woke up, they were no longer there. If you have them, great. If not, you can waste your time figuring out who does.”

  I got up from the couch, then made my way toward the door.

  “The correspondence dinner starts at seven,” Stephen said. “I’m sure you’ll be there, won’t you?”

  I didn’t bother to turn around. “Dressed to impress and in all of my fakeness, yes, I will be. And please warn your mother about saying anything to me. I’m not in the mood for her insults, and I would hate to slap her tonight.”

  All I heard was a light chuckle.

  Bastard.

  * * *

  I didn’t need a crystal ball to see into the future. Hours later at the White House Correspondence Dinner, Stephen and I danced and pranced around as if our lives hadn’t missed one beat. We smiled at each other, laughed, and even pecked each other’s lips a few times. I burst into laughter at some of the stale-ass, corny jokes someone had prepared for him, but the ones about Speaker Robinson’s resignation were quite funny. Those jokes seemed to get the most applause and laughter, but to be honest, our surroundings were no laughing matter. Chanel Hamilton couldn’t keep her eyes off Stephen. I noticed that he hadn’t given her an ounce of attention. He did, however, give his attention to another reporter who had her eyes locked on him all night. I eased over to Claire, as she stood chatting with several journalists from CNN.

  “I need to ask you something,” I whispered in her ear. “Step aside from your conversation, whenever you can.”

  Claire was always at my beck and call; I couldn’t ask f
or a better assistant. She looked fabulous in her tight beige dress that fell straight down her slim figure. Her pale white skin was covered with very little makeup, but her red gloss was pretty loud. I always complimented her long brown hair, and, tonight, it flowed midway down her back.

  A few minutes later, she stepped aside and came up to me as I was chatting with Senator Canfield. He had started to flirt; I was pleased when Claire interrupted us.

  “The president is one lucky man, and I would trade places with him any day, just to be with you. I also didn’t know he was that hilarious,” Senator Canfield said. “Who would have thought that he had such a great sense of humor?”

  “And who would have thought that you were interested in trying to lay his wife? I don’t think your wife would find any humor in that . . . would she?”

  Embarrassed, as well as shocked by my comment, his eyes bugged, and he abruptly walked away. I turned to Claire who stood with a smile on her face, shaking her head at me.

  “Who is she?” I whispered to Claire. She already knew who I was referring to.

  “Her name is Michelle Peoples.” We both looked in Michelle’s direction. “The president was with her last night.”

  I couldn’t help but to think that Stephen sure knew how to pick them as I observed the fit woman with natural hair that was styled in a wavy ’fro. She was gorgeous, and the white, fitted dress she wore had a hole in the back, revealing nothing but skin. Her thick lashes made her eyes even bigger, and her five-inch heels gave her much height. I didn’t suspect that a long-lasting relationship between her and Stephen was in the works, so I wasn’t that jealous.

  “How long was he with her last night?” I questioned.

  “For a few hours. In the park, might I add.”

  “Humph. These whores will lie anywhere for a piece of him. Thanks for the information and don’t forget to keep me updated on those photos. I want to know who took them and why.”

  “I’m on it. But please start locking the bedroom door at night. That way, you’ll be safe.”

 

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