Gordon vs. David: Powerplaybystopadeeboomba©
In my few months working as Gordon Brown's intern, I never expected David Cameron, of all people, to turn up at the office. But, turn up he did. Just who did he think he was? I fumed. Did he actually expect Gordon to talk to him after the ridiculous way he had spoken to him in Parliament?
Although not blessed with Gordon's dark good looks, Mr Cameron's fair hair and angular features had a different sort of appeal. I noticed his fingers and his unnervingly blue eyes.
"The Prime Minister is very busy at the moment and is away" I told him.
Leaning over my desk, Mr Cameron replied, "Look, I know he's here. Why don't you just send me in?"
"He is really very busy." I insisted.
"In that case, then.." His gaze drifted back to me at this, "I think we can come to some sort of an arrangement."
He smiled, sure of himself. I was silent.
"No wonder the Prime Minister finds you so appealing" he began. "All men appreciate a good woman who knows how to keep her mouth shut. They are so rare nowadays."
"Just because I seem passive to you, Mr Cameron, you may be assured that I am, in fact, not." I told him this plainly.
"I'm sure..." he pronounced. Then, "But Gordon Brown, I mean, come on. What's the appeal?"
"He knows his own mind." I said firmly.
"Ah, but does he know his friend's minds? That, I assure you, remains to be seen." He paused.
"Now, I don't want to seem like a total boor, but please, let me take you out to lunch today. Gordon doesn't have to find out. It'll be our little secret. What do you have to lose? And, of course, it's my treat."
I hesitated. Living in a hand-to-mouth household as a child had taught me to never pass up gifts, food or otherwise, especially as they came so rarely.
But then again, the nerve of the man! I could just as well pay. Maybe not a five-star restaurant, which he was probably thinking, but still. It was the principle of the thing. Yet, I ventured,
"What shall I tell the Prime Minister?"
"Oh, erm, just tell him that you were out having lunch with a friend. Which you will be."
He then turned to leave. I wondered what I'd just done.
A few minutes later, a call came for me. It was a woman I'd never spoken to before.
"This is your friend Lucy. Are you availiable for lunch?"
"But I don't know anyone named Lucy." I insisted.
She spoke insistingly, "You know, Lucy? Your "friend" from primary?"
It became clear to me. This woman was someone from Cameron's office, sent to collect me. I hesitated, then said,
"I'll be outside in a few minutes."
I excused myself for lunch and felt guilty for duping the Prime Minister. Him. Gordon. I walked a few steps and stopped. Just as I was about to turn back, I saw an attractive blond woman.
"Come with me" she said, politely enough.
We walked a few minutes until we came to the restaurant. I recognized it. It was a trendy upscale place I had been begging Gordon to take me to. Seated at a back table was Mr. Cameron himself. At this, the woman left. I froze. What had I done?
"I took the libery of ordering you a bottle of Bourgogne mousseux. I hope you don't mind."
The polite answer would have been No, not at all, but in fact, I did mind. To be diplomatic, I said,
"Oh, what a surprise. But you'll have to drink most of it I'm afraid. I'm strictly sticking to my units-per-day consumption limit."
"You can't be serious!" he exclaimed, then laughed.
"Well, in that case, shall we? I'll pour you a small glass."
True to his words, he poured me a small glass and himself a very large one. Raising his glass, he pronounced,
"To the future."
"To stability" I said.
"I'll drink to that" he replied, and we clinked glasses.
We chatted about all sorts of things. Surprisingly, as he got through most of the bottle, it seemed to affect him not in the slightest. But I feared he might try something.
"I have to get going." I said.
"Please, Jane, stay." He took hold of both of my hands. "I don't want to be here by myself."
With that, he leaned over and kissed me full on the mouth. His tongue lingered over mine. But I held off.
"Now, look, you're just being silly. I'm sorry, but I must leave." And I walked myself back to the Prime Minister's offices.
Gordon was in some kind of worked up state when I got there.
"So, ah, how's your friend?"
"Oh, she's...she's well."
I feared Gordon would ask me more, when he visited at the flat he had purchased for me, later that night.
After our first encounter, it had been difficult to know what to say to the Prime Minister. I felt sad for distracting him. But I couldn't help myself. Gordon, now that he was in my system, was like a drug. Now that we had been carrying on the affair for a few weeks, Gordon told me he would buy a flat for me in order to visit me without the prying eyes of the press.
I remember the first time he came to visit. He had told me that he would be coming to see me for the weekend. But I didn't believe it. Not really.
But come to the house he did, and I let him in. He shut the door behind him. So, I thought, it was him. Gordon. My heart pounded with anticipation. Outside, the wind howled, and the waves, far as they were, crashed. He stood before me and I could hardly believe it myself. I wanted to fall against him. I did, and as I did so, I clung to his chest. I sobbed. I couldn't help it.
It had been too long, too long a wait with such an ache in my heart. I held him against me, and I could feel that his heart was pounding as well. As I looked into his eyes, I felt a deep familiarity stirring, as if I knew him from somewhere, which almost made me sad. He placed his hands over me and stroked my hair.
"It's alright" he murmured, although I knew it was difficult for him, and awkward, not having been in a situation like this before.
I helped him to undress, as I had done the first time. First, I unbuttoned his jacket, and placed it down upon the bed.
"I know it's wrong." He said this.
"But I've never felt a connection like this before."
At this, I unbuttoned his shirt, and kissed his chin, his neck, down his chest and back and up again to his face and his eyes. He sighed deeply. I savoured this moment, and tried to catalogue it. I felt the softness of him which he had been so reluctant to reveal, his warmth. He held me close to him and whispered,
"My little one. I can't bear for you to go away. Please don't go away from me."
I didn't know what to say, so I just said,
"Let's make the most of the time that we do have."
He closed his eyes and kissed my face and neck as I had done to him, then began to unbutton my blouse. He cupped my breasts as he had done before, then buried his face between them. I stroked his thick, dark graying hair.
"Gordon," I breathed
"Please, take me, now!"
"I will." He rasped this, hungrily.
Then, "My darling love, have you ever been taken in the arse?"
"No, darling, but...I want you to. I trust you."
And I did too. I was terribly frightened, however, but wanted so much to please him. So, I bent back on my haunches, and he kissed down the curve of my back and gripped my buttocks. I reached back and could feel that his large solid cock was already quite hard. He gently prised my buttocks apart, whispering,
I didn't. I felt his tip teasing my arse, my tight pink rim. With a gasp, he suddenly thrust forward. It was more than I was prepared for. I cried out.
"Shhh..I'll go slowly..very slowly, my love." He soothed. His hand played with my breasts and the sensitive tip of my pussy.
I tried to relax. After all, I trusted Gordon. I believed in him, more than I'd ever believed in anything in my life. And then, he entered me. To say he filled me would be quite an understatement, because Gordon was absolutely massive. I felt myself coming, and I tightened round his cock. He cried out and came, quite heavily, into my arse. I fell on top of him. He relaxed and said softly,
"We'll have more time together in the future. I promise."
I looked forward to it. I knew he was telling the truth.