Politics Ch. 02

The blank she'd drawn had been like a slap in the face. No wonder her Brazilian temper was being directed at him.

"Problem?"

The question brought him out of his reverie. He swung around to see Erika behind him, one hand on her hip as if posing for a fashion magazine. The Scandinavian beauty looked stunning, made for nights like this, it seemed.

It appeared that only her jutting breasts held the long, black strapless evening gown aloft. The top clung to her tanned breasts, offering a wealth of cleavage that her golden locks complimented perfectly. As she moved towards him, he couldn't stop his gaze from falling on those perfectly formed tits.

His recently unfulfilled libido, combined with the sexy sight in front of him, brought a reaction he tried to control but couldn't. And Sally's recent disclosure didn't help either. Damn, he was reaching an impressive status inside his trousers in a personal best time.

When she gave him the 'come-on' smile she reserved for special occasions and took his arm, he jumped another inch. "You look good in a tux," she smiled, pulling him across the room towards to empty chairs at a nearby table. By the time they reached them, his cock had managed to attain full, aching status.

"Thanks," he weakly responded.

"You're welcome," she told him with a smile. Gratifyingly, she watched his eyes focus on her nipples as they speared through the black material. "By the way," she pleasantly continued, "things went perfectly with Guus, but I'll brief you tomorrow. You seem preoccupied right now?"

"Sorry," he apologised, and then wondered why he was apologising. "Just a problem at home. I've just spoken to Becky," he started.

"Becky?"

"Sorry… yes… my girlfriend."

"Ah," those dark, knowing eyes smiled. "Guus mentioned her. He said you made a really good couple. Something's wrong, though, that's not difficult to see. Want to tell me about it?"

Thomas hesitated, not wanting to burden Erika with his problems.

"Oh, come on," she said, nudging him with her arm. "A problem shared…"

As he felt her touch, it took him a second to focus. With her body on display as it was, and her blonde hair curled in little ringlets, she looked like she could be a supermodel. Thoughts of her and Alistair fucking other people flooded his subconscious.

"It's nothing really," he explained, tearing his gaze away from hers. "Becky's looking to start her own business, but can't get any sort of financial support. Sign of the times, I'm afraid. Banks unwilling to lend to what they see as a risky investment."

"And is it? Risky?"

He ran a hand through his fair hair. "In traditional terms, possibly. She wants to open an aerobics business, and eventually establish a chain of them. The thing is, Erika, she's excellent at what she does. She's doubled the size of the clientele she has, and it's down to her ability as a teacher. Plus she has a waiting list as long as your arm."

Erika pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. "Sounds brilliant. And from the enthusiasm in your voice, Thomas, she must be good." When she leant towards him, her tanned cleavage threatened to spill out of the dress. It didn't go unnoticed. "But if she has such a clientele now, what's the issue?"

"It's not her business," he explained, pulling his eyes away from those tits. "And the owner, quite frankly, is a bit of a tosspot. If she could start up herself, I know she'd be very successful. But unless she can find a financial backer…"

His words trailed off. She'd worked so hard. He knew she could be successful if given the chance!

The Swedish beauty reached across to rest her hand on his arm. "I have contacts, Thomas. Does she have a business plan?"

"No," he grimaced. "Another flaw. She's working on one, but isn't very good at that sort of thing. And I've been so busy over this last week that I haven't had the chance to help her. Anyway, she can't even get an appointment…"

"Look," she said, her fingers digging into his arm through the dinner jacket. "It actually sounds a no brainer. I have someone I need to chat to right now, but tell Becky to call me in the morning. I'll help her put the plan together, and I'm sure I can help her find some financial backing."

"You're joking?" It was as much of a gasp as a question.

Erika raised those perfect eyebrows. "Thomas, I've written plenty of business plans in my time, I used to be in consultancy. I can produce them with my eyes closed."

She smiled at the way his eyes lit up, like a child receiving an unexpected present. Offering to help with the business plan would allow her to get to know the woman. If she were anything like Guus Kessen described, it would be worth the trouble. Not that a business plan was required if the plan forming in her mind came to fruition. God, she loved games like this!

"Just one thing," she added.

"Anything, Erika."

"If I pull this off, you owe me a favour! Agreed?"

A favour? He'd owe her a dozen favours if she could achieve what she was suggesting. Not only would it help Becky fulfil her dream, his girlfriend would forget all other frustrations. That would allow Thomas space and time to settle into his new job, without worrying about any damaging effect on their relationship.

"Absolutely," he enthused, without a clue of what it was he was agreeing to.

***

Olivia Hershey glanced at the exit for the umpteenth time. The spoilt twenty-year-old had successfully ditched her mother, slipping away when she'd become engaged in some incredibly boring conversation with a French diplomat over the merits of some tariff or regulation or whatever.

Now she was working up the courage to escape. To just walk out of the room, hail a cab and get out of there. She could call Julian, she thought wickedly, warming at the thought of the young courier the Hershey house employed. The two of them had been fucking behind her family's back for the last month, and she hadn't seen him in a couple days.

But could she leave was the question. Could she actually be bold enough to walk out on her mother? Doubt swirled in that pretty little head of hers. What if it caused a scene? What if she embarrassed her family? What if her affair got out? She wanted to rebel, but sometimes it wasn't so easy.

That was how Erika found the pretty, young royal: licking her glossy lips and wringing her satin-gloved hands as she glanced at the opulent doors of the hall.

Despite the drabness of her mousy-coloured hair and the old-fashioned quality of her sensible, dusky pink satin gown, Erika was immediately captivated. She felt like a wolf, stumbling into a meadow of fat, lost sheep. She was practically drooling as she approached the girl.

"You're the Lady Olivia Hershey, is that right?" the statuesque blonde asked, tapping the girl on the shoulder. She had pale, freckled skin, hot to the touch. Erika recognized a girl when she was aroused.

"That's… right…" The girl's jaw practically dropped when she turned to find Erika standing there. She had wide, dark eyes that did drop briefly into the Scandinavian's cleavage for a moment. Another good sign.

"Erika Johansson," she greeted, taking the Lady's hand in hers and drawing her in for a pair of cheek kisses. The young girl was nearly as tall as she was, although the extremeness of Olivia's five-inch heels helped. Erika had wondered at that as she'd watched the girl across the room, deducting that it was one of the small ways the young woman tried to rebel.

It was that little observation that made this girl the juiciest target in the room.

"I'm with Alistair Brinkley-Jones, the man just over there." She turned the girl just a little until she could face her sexy boyfriend, all the while watching for her reaction. The young Lady's eyes lit up when she saw him, her face colouring ever so slightly. Perfect…

"You're working with him?" she asked, unable to hide the incredulity from her voice. These Brits and their conservative ways, Erika laughed to herself. It was the twenty first Century and racism still lingered!

Of course, such things could always work to her advantage.

"Let me guess," Erika said warmly, linking her arm into Lady Olivia's. She had elbow-length satin gloves that matched her dress. How erotically quaint. "Your mother doesn't approve."

The girl didn't need to nod for Erika to get her answer. She knew it before she even asked.

"Would you like to meet him?" she enticed. Olivia's wide eyes were glued to Alistair's, although her imagination had moved far beyond a simple meeting. How wrong would that be, she thought. How scandalous!

The blonde leaned closer to her, brushing a ringlet of ashen brown hair to the side. "Would you like to fuck him?" she whispered.

Lady Olivia Hershey shivered. She did. Oh, yes, she did...

"I promise you, my Lady, you won't be sorry."

***

As he comfortably held court with the various members of the media gathered around him, Alistair Brinkley-Jones kept an eye across the room on Erika. She'd been chatting to Thomas, but had since approached a dowdy dressed young woman with mousy coloured hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he wondered what his sexy temptress of a girlfriend saw in the girl. She looked pretty enough, although her pink dress only suggested at her body beneath, replete with wide shoulders and a hem that reached her ankles.

As they crossed the room, heading toward them, Erika's rationale began to emerge. First of all, the girl was pretty, although she'd certainly done her best to disguise that. Her drab coloured hair lacked all sense of style, coifed up in a bun so tight it could have been carved out of marble.

Still, she wore her make up well—if a little too heavily—and whatever body she had hidden beneath the dress sauntered gracefully next to the model-like Erika.

The young woman looked a little hesitant, nervous perhaps? But Erika's steadying hand on her arm seemed to provide some comfort.

Trust in Erika, he reminded herself. She'd never failed to excite with the women she brought into their bed.

He turned back to his audience and put on his public face. The questions from the media were becoming repetitive, shifting now to more probing statements, rather than genuine inquiries. In many ways, he had it made? His inheritance would make him one of the top ten richest people in the UK? He could soon be converting his position as leader of the Conservative party to becoming Prime Minister. And on they went…

His eyes watched Erika, standing behind them, as he answered with ease—with the humility that was becoming his trademark. She'd come into his life like a whirlwind, transporting him into a different world from the stuffy one in which he'd previously existed. It hadn't just been a sexual thing, either.

Despite their fifteen years age difference, the Scandinavian beauty had been the one who'd taken control. She'd shown him how to laugh, to stop taking himself seriously, to enjoy himself in ways he never really knew existed.

And then there was the sex. The sex! Wild, uninhibited sex. Not just with one another, but with the women Erika was so good at procuring. It was so good… but it was so wrong… wasn't it?

If any of this were discovered, his career, his leading position in the political world—all that he'd worked for—would be at risk.

At risk? He'd be finished! Ruined!

At times, it all felt too much. He was walking a dangerous line every day he stayed with Erika. He knew he kept pushing his luck. He knew that he should probably ditch her before it was too late and return to his boring lifestyle.

But how could he?

How could he give up the most sexual creature he'd ever met in his life? The one who'd led him on a journey of incredible sensations and discovery? The one who promised so many more sexual adventures?

The media audience was dissipating, disappointed perhaps that he'd answered all their questions and sidestepped all their traps. Erika stepped forward, the young girl of obvious station on her arm. The girl's alabaster skin glowed bright red and she kept meeting his eyes and looking away.

"Alistair, I'd like you to make the acquaintance of the Lady Olivia Hershey. Lady, I present you Alistair Brinkley-Jones."

Olivia offered her dainty, gloved hand. Alistair followed etiquette, taking it and drawing it to his lips. So this girl was related to the Royal family? Even more intriguing. Smiling up from his formal bow, he finally met and held her skittish gaze. With a little help from a stylist, this girl could be the most beautiful of the royals. Knowing how that group behaved, though, it was unlikely.

"We have quite a night planned," Erika continued, drawing his attention back to her. "Isn't that right, Olivia?" she asked, turning to the mousy haired young woman.

The twenty-year-old grew even brighter. Alistair felt his cock rise before he found the command that had brought him so much success. There was a place and time for that, and right now, he had more people to meet, heading in his direction.

"I'm looking forward to it," he grinned, adding with a bow of the head, "Lady."

Erika sent a glance over to Alistair. See, it said. I told you I have something special in store later. Wordlessly, she led the young woman away as he returned to more formal duties.

***

Erika smiled to herself as she guided the girl away. The best thing about tonight was that the innocent had no idea what was in store. In the Swede's eyes, she was a typical member of the British aristocracy - dull, dumb and naive in the ways of the world.

Her natural beauty was the only thing that set her apart.

Erika cocked her head to one side, lips slightly parted, staring straight into Lady Olivia Hershey's admiring eyes. The wide-open pupils, the misty haze of intoxication, almost begged for Erika take advantage.

She felt a pang between her legs. Perhaps she would? Just a taste before the evening with Alistair really got underway?

"Tell you what," Erika said, putting her glass onto a nearby table and checking that the snuffbox was still in her small, satin bag. Her voice was deliberately husky, her tongue darting across her wet, glossy lips as she gave that look to the woman. "I have a treat in store. Follow me, honey."

Without waiting for a response, she set off towards the brightly lit corner of the elegant room. She knew the girl would follow like an obedient puppy, and when she reached the white door to the rest rooms, she allowed the young Lady Olivia to enter ahead of her.

Once inside, the girl looked around, as if wondering what to do next. Erika ignored her at first, swiftly looking the door before heading for the cool marble counter. It took a lot to get Erika's blood boiling; corrupting a sweet, young girl was one of those times. She breathed in deeply as she turned to see the girl's frightened stare. Her eyes narrowed as she felt the wetness grow between her legs. The rush she had with a pretty girl the first time never got old.

"Come here," Erika instructed, crooking a finger. The girl hesitantly made her way over to the blonde and the two of them ended up leaning side by side on the counter. Up close, not even the loose fitting dress could conceal this girl's magnificent looking breasts.

"Such a good girl," Erika smiled encouragingly, her hands snaking out to hold Lady Olivia's face so that she could stare into her eyes. She turned, resting her hip on against the marble. "Want a reward?"

"Oh, yes," the young blonde cooed, staring lovingly at the beautiful, vibrant woman. "Yes, please."

"Feeling horny?"

"Yes. Oh, yes…"

"Ever had a woman?"

"A woman?" She looked genuinely shocked. "I thought you said I'd be with Alistair…"

"Of course you will," Erika said comfortingly. "But tell me, Olivia," she continued in a matter-of-fact tone. "Don't tell me that none of your aristocratic lady friends hasn't dabbled with other women."

"Never," said the woozy woman. As the sexy blonde stared deeper into her sexual soul, she wanted to respond. Be more open. "Well… there were rumours about Princess—"

The naïve woman's words came to a sudden end as Erika wrapped an arm around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a soft kiss.

"My God…" Lady Olivia breathed, her heart beating as Erika pulled fractionally away.

Erika's soft fingers caressed her cheek. "Like that?"

"Yes!" Her voice was overload in its enthusiasm. "Oh, yes… I did!"

"Told you," the blonde haired temptress huskily responded. "Do you find me sexy?"

"Oh… God… yes…" It felt good to say, felt electrifying to confess.

"Want to kiss me again?"

"Y… yes. Please!"

Erika tilted her head as if offering her lips to the young woman. "Go ahead…" she whispered breathily.

Lady Olivia hesitated for a second, as if attempting to come to terms with the offer. Then her head darted forward as she crashed her lips against the woman in front of her. As her mind crossed the great divide her hand snaked around Erika's neck, dragging her into a sudden, hard kiss.

The Swede's body felt Lady Olivia's shiver against her. Within seconds, the aristocratic woman was making out with her like the bitch in heat that she was. Erika manoeuvred her against the counter, getting her to half sit on the edge. The most daring thing about the girl's evening gown was the long slit up the front, and the blonde took full advantage. As the dress hiked up and Erika's hand slithered along a pair of deliciously toned, smooth legs, the mousy haired woman instantly widened her legs to accommodate the probing hand.

"Good girl," Erika murmured, pushing the dress across her slender hips. The dress tore, just a little, before she could get full access to her prize. Dropping to her knees, she pulled the damp thong to one side. "Want to cum?" she asked, looking up into the young woman's amazed eyes.

"Oh, yes," Lady Olivia gasped, her hands gripping the lip of the counter, like she was holding on for dear life. "Oh, yes… yes… YES…"

Erika smiled to herself as she gazed at the Lady Olivia's neatly maintained pussy. This girl really does have an inner slut, she thought. A small step for woman. A giant leap for this young bitch.

The touch of her tongue immediately drew a loud groan from the young innocent. Erika dragged it out, skimming along the ridge of the girl's plump labia. She teased her clit without touching it, her tongue slowly circling the swollen bud. Playing in the scrap of dark hair that sat above.

"Please," Lady Olivia gasped, thrusting her hips forward. "Please…"

Please indeed, Erika thought to herself, her nipples stiff with desire at the girl's complete surrender. With a growl, her mouth fastened onto the rapidly emerging clit at the same time as she stiffened two fingers and worked them into her captive's already oily pussy.

"Uh… Goddd…" Lady Olivia cried, her senses going into overload. When Erika's fingers found her g-spot, it set off an explosion as surely as if the Swede had pressed a detonator.

The tall woman's shriek was torn violently from her throat. Her body bent backwards into the wall as Erika's fingers and tongue did their work, the ripples of her violent orgasm threatening never to stop.

Erika sighed happily. Tonight would be a wonderfully long night.

***

"Anything I can do to help, just say," Brian Sterling told Alistair Brinkley-Jones, slapping the man he knew so well on the back. "By the way, let me introduce Katie. Katie Nichols."

Alistair turned towards the beautiful woman. She was standing just behind the older man, and he stared for a moment before taking Katie's hand and holding onto it a few moments longer than he should. The black politician felt his breath catch as he took in the sight of the beautiful woman before him.