The Professional Ch. 04

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I had progressed with the Congresswoman from servicing her with my fingers to servicing her with my tongue, but what I really wanted was to service her with my hard cock. Once I had broken down the barrier of oral sex, it was what she wanted every time. Our trysts in the back of the limo became rare, but she would often call me in to her office and have me on my knees in front of the couch with my head buried in her lap. She couldn’t get enough of my mouth on her cunt and neither could I. But I was still pounding my cock alone at night in my apartment.

It was a crisp fall day and we were planning a trip back to the District. It would be a hasty and busy trip. I had arranged for her to visit the Harvest Faire, to speak at a Quota Club fundraising dinner, and to meet with a group of farmers who were battling over water rights in the southern part of the district. She also had some personal business to attend to and I had blocked out some time for that. We were taking a red-eye flight that left at 11:00 p.m., and that day I got a text from her at about 3:00 in the afternoon: ‘need to see you in my office’.

Knowing exactly what that meant, I went in and locked the door behind me. She was behind her desk, and I stood and waited for her to move to the couch as usual. When she didn’t I raised my eyebrows and said, “Oh, maybe I misunderstood. Did you want to see me about something?”

She smiled and said, “Why, yes I did. Why don’t you come around my desk, there’s something I want to show you.” I walked around the left side of her desk and as I did she pushed her leather chair back and swiveled it 90 degrees so she was facing me. I was shocked to see that she wasn’t wearing a skirt or any underwear. She was completely naked from the waist down and had her legs spread wide so I could see her bald pussy.

“Like what you see?” she asked coyly. I don’t know exactly why, but seeing this older, powerful woman sitting in her high-backed leather chair, naked from the waist down was tremendously exciting to me. It certainly wasn’t the first time I’d seen her naked below the waist, but it had always been with her skirt pushed up , either on her couch or in the back of the limo. My cock was instantly rock hard and tenting out from my slacks.

“Absolutely,” I answered. “I like it very much. You should know that by now!”

“Why don’t you show me how much you like it?” she said, scooting her butt up to the edge of the chair.

I dropped to my knees on the floor behind her desk and started kissing my way up the inside of her thigh. I was so turned on!! I couldn’t wait to taste her, and I plunged my head right into the V-shape of her legs and began licking her waiting cunt up and down. She was dry on the outside, but soaking wet on the inside. I licked the bald outer lips of her pussy and tongued her clit. She put her knees over my shoulders and scooted down even more to give me full access to her pussy. The angle was wrong, though. The seat was too low and I had to strain my neck to get my tongue up inside her.

I put my arms around her back, and with her legs still over my shoulders, lifted her and spun her around, setting her naked bottom on her desk. I sat down in her chair, pulled it to the desk, and without missing a beat, went back to feasting on her dripping cunt. My cock was straining mardin escort in my pants. I was on fire. Something about seeing her naked below her waist, sitting at her desk, had inflamed me. I wanted so badly to fuck her, or have her suck my cock, or have her even touch me with her hands. But the only place she was touching me was the sides of my head. With her legs over my shoulders, lying back across her desk, she was grabbing my head and moving my head up and down the length of her pussy, smearing my face with her juices. She was still moaning in that low way she did, but I knew that soon she would feel her orgasm coming and start the high mewling. I was so turned on by this scene; her lying across her desk half naked with a man half her age eating her pussy.

I don’t know what came over me, but I needed to fuck her. Almost without thinking, I gently removed her legs from my shoulders and stood up in front of her. Her pussy was right there in front of me, right at the same level as my cock, straining against my pants. Her eyes flew open, and she had a confused look saying, “Why did you stop when I was getting so close?”

Without saying a word I quickly unbuckled my belt, undid the clasp to my pants and pulled them down, exposing my rock hard cock. It was the first time she had seen it and her eyes widened when she saw the length and the girth of my stiff member. I moved forward and placed it against the opening to her wet hole. I let just the tip slide in and was hesitating before I pushed my long shaft all the way in to the hilt. I desperately wanted to come inside her.

Just before my thrust, she slid her butt back, dislodging me from her opening, and covered her mound with her hand. “No, Michael. No. That’s not what this is all about.”

“Please,” I begged. “I want to fuck you so badly. Do you know how hard this is for me? Touching you, licking you, tasting you, feeling you come against my hand and face? And not being able to kiss you, or feel your touch, or put my cock inside you? Please!” I felt like a whining child with his mother, but I was so frustrated that it all just came blurting out.

She stood and gently pushed me away from her chair. Sitting down, she reached under her desk and grabbed her panties and skirt. She slid the undies on, then stood up and stepped into her skirt. “Sit down, Michael. We need to have a long overdue talk.” She stepped into her pumps, sat back down, and smoothed her blouse over her full breasts. I walked around her desk and sat in one of the armchairs across from her.

“I have always made bad choices with men, Michael.” I could tell she was still flushed from her sexual excitement by the deep red mottled color of the skin showing through the V-neck of her blouse. “For some reason,” she continued, ” I always choose the wrong guy. The bad boy. The guy who drinks too much, and doesn’t think the laws apply to him. Or the guy that likes to rough up his woman from time to time.” She looked down at the blotter she had just been sitting on while I lapped at her juices. Did she see a drop or two there? She remained silent for a moment, obviously lost in her thoughts.

“So when I decided that I wanted to have a career in public service, I knew that I had to give men up. I knew that there was a 90% chance van escort that I would make a bad choice again, and that it would come back to haunt me as a politician.”

“But I’m not a bad choice,” I stammered.

“Yes you are, Michael. You’re twenty five years younger than me and the press would have a field day with that. And that’s off the point, anyway. I don’t want a relationship. I’ve given up on that until after I retire from public life, and I’m not even too sure about then. That’s why I need you so badly to get me off and keep me on an even keel. All business, no emotion.”

I looked at her with pleading eyes. “But why can’t you get off by me fucking you instead of me servicing you with my hands?” I looked at the desktop. “Or my tongue?”

“Because women don’t work that way, Michael. As soon as we start having real sex, I’ll start feeling like we’re in a relationship, and it won’t stop at just sex. It will turn into love, or something resembling love, and a relationship, and I won’t be able to stop it. It’s just how women are.”

“So that’s it?” I asked. “I just service when you need it, and get nothing in return?”

“You do get something in return, Michael. You get access to the wealthy and the privileged. You ride in limos, you travel first class. You walk through the halls of power. But you have to make a decision. Can you live with that? Is it enough for you?” I suddenly wasn’t sure if my flight tonight was going to be round-trip or one-way. And I knew that I desperately wanted it to be round-trip.

“Yes. It’s hard, but I wouldn’t give it up for anything. I love working for you, I love being around you, and I love doing what I do to you. I just wish it could be more.” I looked away, out the window, and saw the Washington Monument in the distance.

“It can’t, Michael. Look, I’m not stopping at Congress. I have plans, and you can be a part of them. But I do understand that you need more, and I’ll see what I can do for you.” She stood, indicating that the meeting was over.

I looked back, wondering what she meant by that, but before I could ask, she said, “Karl will pick us up here at the office to take us to the airport at 9:30. Be ready to go.” I stood and nodded, then headed for the door. “And thank you, Michael. Thanks for understanding.”

I headed back to my office and worked for a while. I wasn’t getting much done, but I just went through the motions until 9:30, when we went downstairs to find Karl waiting at the street with the limo running. We got in the back and DH immediately got on her cell phone and started calling friends and family back home. She never said a word to me until we arrived at the airport, and then we bogged down with ticketing, going through security and getting to our gate. We sat side by side in first class, and once the plane was in the air, DH turned off her light, put a sleeping mask on and tilted her seat back. I pulled out my laptop to review the schedule back in the district and once I was sure all was in order I closed my laptop and reclined my seatback as well. Sitting there in the darkness, feeling the vibration of the engines, I closed my eyes.

After a minute or two I felt DH lean over to me and heard her whisper very quietly in my ear. “You know you really had me worked ankara escort up today, and I’m still feeling horny.” She had a blanket over her lap, and she reached forward and let down the tray from the seatback in front of her, further covering her lap. She moved the blanket so it was covering my lap as well, then reached under it and took my hand. She pulled my hand over and placed it on her panties. Somehow she had managed to get her skirt pulled up so when she spread her legs I had access to her crotch.

She leaned over and whispered again, “I’ll try to be quiet.” I smiled in the darkness and lightly stroked the cotton gusset of her panties. Taking my time, I gently stroked her for five minutes or so. I could feel the moisture building in the material and I could feel the heat radiating from her vulva. She was making small circles with her hips, almost imperceptibly. I could feel the moist cleft of her vagina through the panties and could feel that she was getting slick with her own juices. The only sound she made was one heavy sigh.

I moved my fingers up to the waistband of her panties, then slid my hand inside against the skin of her stomach. I could feel her little patch of salt and pepper pubic hair at my fingertips. I moved my hand down slowly until I was cupping the mound below her pubis, with my fingers pointing towards her back door hole. I just rested my palm against her wetness and let it lay there for a while, feeling her flexing her kegel muscles against my hand. After another five minutes or so I began rubbing my palm against her mound, moving it up and dragging it across her clit. I was cupping her and rubbing her, giving her entire vulva a firm yet gentle massage. I could feel her squish below my hand and felt the velvety softness of the folds of her labia.

As I cupped and massaged her vulva, I let my middle finger penetrate her just a little bit. Her wetness was pooling at the opening to her hole, and I let my fingertip swim in her nectar as I massaged her vulva and clit. Little by little I slipped my middle finger deeper into her. There was no sound except the muffled roar of the jet engines. Her breathing was ragged, but she was maintaining silence.

I ran my middle finger in and out of her slowly as I continued her vaginal massage. Then I curled my finger and hooked it up behind her pubic bone. I searched around until I found the rough patch of skin at her G-spot. I slowly rubbed her clit with the heel of my palm while I applied pressure and rubbed her G-spot in a circular motion. I kept up a steady rhythm, building it little by little, speeding up almost imperceptibly like the movement of the second hand of a watch.

Her breathing became louder, but she didn’t make a sound. She was taking sharp, short breaths. Suddenly her breathing stopped and I felt her tense her legs. Her body shook as her orgasm overtook her, but she held her breath and didn’t make a sound. I kept rubbing her G-spot all the way through her body-wracking orgasm, until I felt her stop shaking, start breathing, then her legs relax, then the rest of her body.

I pulled my finger out of her and gave her mound a light rub before pulling my hand out of her panties. It was wet and slick with her juice. To my great surprise she reached over and gave my rock-hard boner one gentle squeeze. She leaned over again and whispered very softly in my ear, “And don’t worry. I have a plan for him when we get back to D.C.”

Had she reconsidered? I knew better than to ask, so I put up her tray table, straightened the blanket on our laps, then leaned back and closed my eyes. I didn’t wake up until we were landing.

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