Diplomatic Secrets - Teaser
by Edward A. Stanbridge
Disclaimer: The persons, places, things, and otherwise animate or inanimate objects mentioned in this short story are figments of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to anything or anyone living (or dead) is unintentional. The following post contains explicit sexual situations and is not intended for a public under 18 years of age.
I woke up from an agitated sleep and sat up in the bed. It took a few seconds before I recalled where I was. A dim light was filtering through the heavy brocade drapes of the Presidential suite. Victoria was fast asleep beside me, hugging her pillow, her dark hair contrasting with her creamy skin and the white Egyptian cotton of the bedding sheets. She looked so peaceful, heart-stoppingly beautiful. I repressed the need to kiss her slightly opened lips because I didn’t want to wake her up. Even though we had made love the night before and it was highly pleasurable, my desire for her was not fully sated. I don’t think it ever will be. A look at the alarm clock on the bedside table informed me that it was four thirty five. Our first meeting was at nine, but we had a staff meeting at eight. I should’ve gone back to sleep for a couple of hours, but I knew that if I stayed in bed with her, naked beside me, it would not happen. The longing was already there, changing the distribution of blood in my body, so I decided to go to the living room to read the newspapers and watch the sunrise over the Red Square. I moved slowly to the side of the bed.
“Hmm. Where are you going?” She mumbled.
“I can’t sleep. I’ll go to the living room.”
“Not in this condition.” I felt her hand move along my thigh to the bulge created by my engorged member.
“Hmm” I moaned, moving closer to her while her fingers closed around me.
“I was dreaming about you.” She was stroking me slowly, the soft skin of her palm, making me instantly harder.
“Were you, now?” I said, half-mockingly.
“See for yourself.” She took my hand in hers, leading it to the apex of her thighs. She was warm and wet before I had even touched her. Maybe she really was dreaming about me. I discarded all remaining thoughts and focused on the most sensitive part of her body. I teased her with my finger, circling around the responsive flesh. She moaned and parted her legs as an invitation. I slipped one finger inside her, slowly, pleasing her with my thumb. Her breathing accelerated. I inserted another, moving into her delectable wetness.
“Hmm.” She moaned when I gently sucked one hard nipple, lapping it with my tongue. The warmth of the bed sheets, the smell of her arousal and the delicate torture of her hand moving along my shaft turned my blood to liquid fire. I was not going to last long at this pace.
“I want you inside me.” She breathed, mirroring my thought. She squirmed along my body, pushing her hips to meet my hand but I resisted. I wanted it slow. I wanted to bring pleasure out of her before I reached mine.
“Please, Carl, I’m gonna come.” She was so responsive to my touch; it never ceased to amaze me. Every time was like the first time but I knew her body so well by now that I recognized exactly where, when and how to touch her to make her come in a blink of an eye or extend our pleasure, sometimes for hours. She knew me as well. For someone so young, she had taught me so much about myself. I had never believed that I could love and be loved in return, but she had changed everything.
“Not now.” I said, my tone raw and passionate.
Her body started to quiver and she substantially increased her movements over me, eager to bring me with her in ecstasy. I felt her muscles tighten around my fingers. I was about to lose control.
“Hey, easy on that.” I gently moved her hand away before it was too late.
“No!” She whined. “I love your cock.” She was panting and moaning, rocking her hips to meet my hand.
“I know. You’ll have it soon.” I said, panting as well. I kept fingering her, slowly, sucking one nipple, and then the other alternatively. She was getting close. I could feel it. Her shattered breath and the rush of moisture in my hand could not lie.
“Ahhh!” She cried out when she reached the peak of her arousal. She came spectacularly, convulsing under me. Her muscles clenched rhythmically around my fingers and she whimpered at every spasm. I kept caressing her exactly the same way, prolonging her pleasure for as long as I could. This was the hardest moment to remain focused on my task. Nothing is more arousing than the sound of the woman you love crying out with the pleasure you are giving her. There were a few more contractions and she calmed down, sinking back into the mattress with a sigh.
“You’re so good at that.” She looked at me, her eyes still haggard.
"I'll never get tired of pleasing you." My voice was low and heated.
“So now, can I have you?” She said with the most feral tone.
“Oh yes, you can.” I moved over her, lifting her knees so that they reached her stomach exposing her sex for me to possess. I lowered my hips and marveled at her wetness as my erection touched her swollen flesh. I entered her slowly, feeling every inch to the hilt. She was trapped under me, her long shapely legs hooked over my arms as I pressed them into the mattress. Every inch of her was filled with me. I started to move, leisurely, still feeling the ripples of her recent orgasm. I could barely see her in the darkness of the room, but I knew she was looking at me. Her hands were all over my skin, touching, kneading, claiming me.
I increased the pace. She was so tight around my length, fitted like a fist and I couldn’t get enough. She was moving her hips up to meet my every thrust, whimpering her pleasure. I gave up all control on myself. I pondered into her until her back arched and she cried out my name, convulsing under and around me. She grabbed me so forcefully, it was too much to take. A primal plea escaped my mouth as my whole body shuddered and I gave in to the most intense pleasure. My balls tightened and I pulsed inside her so many times that I stopped counting, propelling my load to her very end.
Panting hard, I released her legs and collapsed on top of her, my face in her neck until my raging breath slowed down. She was caressing the damp skin of my back and trailing butterfly kisses over my shoulder.
“I’ll have to send a thank you note to the Ritz-Carlton; their wake-up call is exquisite.”
“Send one for me too.”
“Do I make it an official correspondence, mister Secretary?”
I chuckled. “We should probably wait and see if we get the same treatment tomorrow.”
She playfully swatted by behind.
“You get that treatment every morning!”
I propped myself on my elbows. “Yes, I’m a lucky man.”
I kissed her, wanting her to feel all the strength of my feelings...