Politics Ch. 05

"You'll help?"

"Of course I'll help. You know exactly what you want. My business acumen and contacts will help you get it. I'll call you tomorrow and we'll get down to things straight away. The sooner the better."

"But the General Election. You're so busy..."

"Never too busy to help a good friend, Becky. Besides, I can do both and it'll be a refreshing alternative to the campaign. Look, I'd better get back. Feeling better?"

The Brazilian woman smiled. "Yes, you always make me feel better, Erika," she said, leaning across and planting a soft kiss on the Swedish woman's cheek. "I appreciate everything you've done for me."

Erika's hand held Becky's face as she attempted to pull away. "I said I'd tell you what I enjoy best," she seductively whispered into her ear. "Women."

Rebecca's head swung around to meet the twinkling gaze. "Women?"

"Absolutely!" Erika softly purred, lowering her voice to a sensual whisper. "You've never been with another woman, Becky?"

The twenty-two year old shook her head, staring hypnotically into the beautiful intense blue eyes. Suddenly, Erika looked so hot.

"Oh, honey, you don't know what you're missing," the blonde told her. Without giving Rebecca time to think, she closed the distance between their slightly open mouths. Her head tilted at an angle as one set of lips met the other, her tongue flickering against Rebecca's like a candle flame in a soft breeze.

Briefly pausing until the younger woman responded, she closed in for another kiss. Wetter, deeper, even more passionate! Their open mouths collided, battled, cooperated and then Erika sensually pulled the Brazilian woman's bottom lip down between her teeth before letting it go.

Drawing back, she watched the aroused look fill Rebecca's brown eyes. "You should try it some time," she suggested, pulling away and leaving the stunned young woman in a state of shock.

"I have to go," she softly said, climbing to her feet. "If you take my advice, when Thomas arrives home tonight, I suggest you fuck his brains out. I'll call you tomorrow..."

***

The evening had gone well. Very well. For a couple of hours, they'd enjoyed each other's company as if they were two friends together, rather than psychiatrist and patient. Katie had complimented him on his success with the debate, and Alistair had explained about the Mary O'Leary allegation.

He told her about the afternoon meetings that had gone so well with the media, and how well Thomas and he had built on the Northern Ireland visit. But then he'd explained that those sessions had been interrupted by the need for meetings with two of his MP's who'd been implicated in the expenses scandal. Persuading them to resign had been necessary, but not easy.

Gordon Ramsey's Boxwood Café was one of Alistair's favourite restaurants, helped by the fact he was always allocated a private room. Usually he'd be entertaining a foreign dignitary, or perhaps someone promising a large donation, but occasionally—like tonight—he'd use it privately.

As they enjoyed coffee and a liqueur, he asked that they weren't disturbed. Time to raise the thorny problem that had brought them into contact.

"Erika knows..." he began.

"About us?" she asked, wondering as she said the word, what exactly was it she meant by 'us'?

His laugh was shrill, uncomfortable. Clearly this wasn't a subject he was comfortable with. "That I'm seeing a shrink," he answered. "Or should I say psychiatrist? And that the psychiatrist is you."

"And how did she respond?" Katie asked, swilling the liqueur around in her glass before sipping it. She'd had far too much to drink tonight. Deliberately, perhaps? She didn't know. But she was aware that her inhibitions were lowering and her arousal was building.

"Surprisingly well," he told her, with a wry grin. "Says she only wants the best for me, that I should do what I need to."

Katie raised an eyebrow. "You sound like you didn't expect that reaction. That maybe you thought she'd be angry?"

"I don't know," Alistair said, shrugging his shoulders. "I really don't know. Here I am on the verge of becoming Prime Minister, and I feel more confused than ever. What do you suggest, Katie? You said you'd help me."

"I said maybe one more session," she corrected. "See where that takes us. I don't know what I can do to help, Alistair, except one thing has occurred to me since we spoke."

His darting eyes drifted down to her cleavage as Katie spoke. The black dress was modest, but allowed enough of a glimpse of tantalising flesh to whet his appetite. So did her legs, crossed before her as she sat with her chair pushed towards him. The short dress offered an expansive display of thigh.

The thirty-year-old woman batted her eyelashes at him as his gaze returned to hers, absently running a hand through her long, shoulder length chestnut brown hair. "You enjoy your lifestyle, but are worried about discovery," she slowly said. "But maybe if you weren't with Erika, if you were in a different relationship, that could make you feel different?"

Alistair nodded thoughtfully. "You're saying Erika is the problem?"

"I'm saying," she slowly said, choosing her words carefully, "that the problem might be the two of you together."

He nodded again, picking up his liqueur glass and draining the alcohol in one go. He heard her words, but was having a hard time concentrating on anything but that cleavage and the wonderful display of thigh. Scraping his chair along the floor, he pulled it closer to Katie, touched her leg softly with the tips of his fingers, tracing swirls along her thigh.

"And," he whispered, feeling her body shiver under his touch, "do you have a woman in mind that you think would fit me better?"

He spread his fingers out, provocatively caressing her full expanse of thigh with his entire hand. He could feel his heart beat faster. She looked stunning, with her beautifully sculptured cheekbones, large, luminous brown eyes and voluptuous mouth.

Katie knew she should stop this, but every instinct in her body said this was right. The alcohol was affecting her without question, but even without that Dutch courage, her sexual needs would be driving her on.

It was now or never.

Her glossy lips parted. Her eyes narrowed. Leaning forward, she offered her lips to him. He took them willingly. Their mouths jammed against one another, their lips crashed together, their tongues sought one another.

Alistair's hand found her breast through the dress, roughly kneading it.

Katie's found his erection, already ready for her, and she traced the outline through his trousers. She couldn't hold back. She needed it, wanted it. She was going to have it. Right now.

Her hands swiftly freed the black rod and for a few minutes, she alternated her gaze between his erection and his eyes. It was everything she'd imagined and more. Large, pulsating, and black. Very black.

She leant down and took it into her mouth.

Her eyes half closed to maximise her sense of touch, taste and smell. Her hands reached around the base as she began to suck, taking him deep into her mouth. In dreamy slow motion, her head began to move rhythmically up and down, just as she had with Eduardo.

The irony wasn't lost on Alistair. He'd come to Katie for her to help resolve his problems... dangerous tendencies that could bring him down politically and as a man. Instead, his sexy psychiatrist was risking everything that she had, betraying every oath she'd taken.

His fantasies about his beautiful psychiatrist, his sexy doctor, were coming true.Hadcome true! His thoughts had been such powerful sources of pleasure since they'd first met. But for them to actually come true...

She looked up into his eyes as she sucked hard, expertly throating him. Her mouth paused there for a few teasing seconds before she eased back, retaining just his bulbous head. She ran her tongue around the crown, his body jerking from little flicking motions before she went down on him again, sucking up and down in rapid motions. Her mouth was a suction machine and she felt him begin to throb.

"Careful," he gasped, but she didn't care. She wanted his seed.

She sucked harder, wincing with pain when she felt his hands grip her hair and yank her head upwards. It took him all his will-power, and he was just in time. "No..." she complained, attempting to force her mouth back down.

His grip tightened in her chestnut locks, pulling her head up. "Katie, I want to fuck you," he mumbled, pulling her lips to his for a deep kiss.

She pulled away and shook her head. "No, not here."

She was willing to go down on him in public, but fucking him, that could wait until they returned to his. Or hers. Anywhere but in public.

She underestimated that black politician. Alistair was inflamed. He'd wanted this woman since they'd first met and he wasn't willing to wait. Grabbing her around the waist, he spun her around. When he placed his hand on her neck and pushed her forward over the table, Katie realised exactly what he intended.

***

"Fuck, Becky, that feels good," Thomas moaned. Her soft lips were attempting to bring his cock back to an erect state. "But you've made me cum twice already..."

"And I've had four orgasms," she purred. "Don't you want to catch up?"

He felt a growing arousal as she sucked his crown. Her tongue deliciously flicked along the rim.

"Nice?" she gloated as she heard him moan.

She smiled up at him and was rewarded by the contorted look of pleasure creasing his face. This is what she needed to expunge thoughts of Guus Kessen from her mind. As soon as Thomas had arrived home, she'd dragged him to the bedroom. Well, she thought with a delicious giggle to herself, that was after she'd had him on the couch and then the living room carpet. And now, in their bed, she was going to have him again.

He gave another groan as her hand joined her mouth. She always had a way of getting him to rise to the occasion.

Her sex acts with Guus had been necessary evils. Forget about them now.Fuck Thomas's brains out,Erika had told her. She'd been right. After making love twice with her boyfriend, she was beginning to cleanse herself of what had happened earlier. It wasn'tjustthat, of course. Her visit to see the millionaire had left her with a sexual drug running through her body and she needed some clear attention to dampen that fire.

"Mmmm, that's good."

Her words made Thomas look down. When she caught his gaze, she provocatively held his eyes as she licked down and around the shaft. They shone at him.

"Mmmm, baby, such a good boy," she murmured.

Good boy? The successful sessions with the media this afternoon hadn't been able to rid him of his guilt. At the Tory HQ, he'd been able to immerse himself in the media briefings, ensuring that every journalist received what they wanted. He'd orchestrated Alistair's sessions like the master conductor he was. Yet still...

It had been at the back of his mind all day. He'd travelled home faced with a different reality. Telling Becky about his night with Erika. How could he? How couldn't he? It was impossible to keep the guilty secret from her. She'd never do the same to him, and he owed her more than that.

But the way she'd sexually attacked him as soon as he'd arrived had driven any confessional thoughts from his mind. What would it achieve?

Even as his guilty thoughts flickered around Erika, he was moaning again. Becky's eyes were locked on his as she took each of his testicles in her mouth. First the left and then the right. Her hand held his shaft whilst she rolled each heavy ball around in her mouth. Her eyes gleamed at his growing response.

"I think baby's ready for me now," she purred. "Now let me see, you fucked me in the missionary position on the couch and came good and hard. I fucked you on top on the carpet and you came good and hard. Let's do my favourite position now."

"Your favourite?" he asked.

She nodded as she turned around on the bed to display her perfect, peach-like buttocks. His eyes followed her gaze to his erection.

"Why, Thomas," she murmured, "I do believe your cock is excited at the thought of fucking Becky doggie style?"

Oh, God! That's what Sally had intimated he'd been thinking about? And since she'd planted the suggestion, he had imagined himself fucking the redhead that way. What the hell was wrong with him?

He felt himself harden further at her words. Or was it the image in his mind of Sally offering herself the way Becky was right now?

His girlfriend sank down onto her elbows, deliberately raising her buttocks. She glanced back over her shoulder and cocked an eyebrow.

"Or would you prefer to rest?" she teased. "After all, you have another early start tomorrow!"

Thomas eased himself into position. "And it'll be another long day," he told her. "But if I need inspiration I'll just close my eyes and remember you like this."

She twisted her head to one side against the pillow, flashing him a mischievous smile. He pulled her hips slowly towards him. She gave a soft whimper as he slipped himself between her legs.

"That's good, baby," she moaned.

He tenderly began to rub his hardness along her heated furrow, ignoring his tiredness. Becky gently pushed back against him. Both moved slowly. Their breaths grew ragged as they became caught up in the moment. Becky looked back at him over her shoulder, her deep brown eyes narrow and aroused.

Thomas drew her onto him and eased himself home. There was no hurry. Both began to ease themselves forward and back, gliding against one another. They moved that way for some time.

Thomas dismissed all thoughts of Erika. It was Becky he loved.

Becky closed her mind to memories of Guus Kessen. It was her boyfriend she wanted.

This time, the third time they'd made love tonight, there was no urgency between them. Only tenderness.

***

"No," Katie moaned as Alistair pushed her down onto the table and fitted his body behind her. The glasses and cups went flying as he held her jerking body in position. It seemed that nothing was going to stop him.

His spare hand flipped her skirt up to her waist and roughly dragged her skimpy black panties halfway down her shapely legs.

"No, Alistair," she repeated, feeling her heart beating faster at his delicious roughness. Was he going to rape her? God, she hoped so. Where did that thought come from? Wanting to be taken so forcibly? She felt her wetness increase at the thought.

"You want it," he told her, whispering in her ear as she obediently rested her elbows on the white tablecloth and deliberately raised her buttocks.

"No," she gasped, wanting to maintain the pretence.

"Yes you do," he grunted as his knees slid inside hers, forcing her legs wider. With each nudge, the adrenalin in her body increased. Her sex grew even wetter. Her nipples hardened further.

He was going to use her and worse than that, she actually wanted him to use her, wanted that black cock inside her. The thought of a waiter suddenly appearing only made the situation more arousing.

"Tell me," he grunted, his long fingers running through the carpet of damp curls that covered her labial lips. "Tell me you're hot for it."

Her head shot sideways, her eyes looking back into his, an aroused look covering her face as he rubbed his black cock along her dark bush. She couldn't help but groan aloud. Was this how he treated his other women? She wanted to be one of them, taken and used.

"Tell me," he repeated, his hands reaching around her body to squeeze her breasts against her dress. He dragged the top down, yanking them from her bra. They were sensitive, aching to be touched. He cupped them, rotating her nipples in the palms of his hands. "Tell me, Katie," he whispered. "Tell me you want to be fucked."

At first she didn't respond, but as he rubbed rubbing his hardness along her heated furrow, ignoring her attempts to push back against him and take him inside, she gave in. She had to give in.

"Yes," she gasped as his hands mashed her breasts, as his cock pushed against her... so close... but not willing to enter. "YES!"

She pushed her ass back, confirming her need to have him inside her. Each rough touch inflamed her senses, amplified the heat in her body. Her breath grew ragged as she became caught up in the soft friction between them. Alistair teasingly continued to rub himself along the whole of her coarse wetness, making no attempt to enter her.

She looked back at him again over her shoulder. Her eyes were wild, her nostrils flared. With a growl of anger, irritation, arousal and need, her hand shot down between her legs and grabbed his hard cock. In one movement, she fitted the large head of his heavy black dick inside her. Her body was so wet that he entered immediately.

She gasped at his entry, loving the way he filled her. The sound was more like a hiss. She could feel every delicious inch.

Alistair grunted as he slid inside. As she pushed back, he pressed forward.

"That's good?" he asked, one hand finding her long chestnut hair, gathering it into a ponytail. She gave a soft whimper as his grip tightened. He roughly dragged her head upwards.

At first, he stroked her trembling hips as he gently pulled her back and pushed her forwards in time with his soft thrusts. He fell into the lazy rhythm, drawing backwards until he was almost free before softly gliding back. His hand pulled her hair with each soft thrust, as if he was riding his mare. With each forward thrust, he filled her completely again.

Alistair grunted from his standing position. Spread-eagled over the table, Katie moaned her compliance.

He moved that way for some time, building up the sexual tension between them. She allowed him his way, wanting to fuck back against him, but enjoying the sensation of being filled too much.

He began to move faster. Grunt louder. He yanked her silky locks backwards more tightly.

"That's it," she panted. "Yes, Alistair. That's it."

Before they knew it, they were in a contest, a rodeo rider attempting to control the bucking bronco. She had no idea how long it lasted. A minute, five minutes, ten minutes? All she knew was that the politician knew how to use his black cock, a cock that had fucked so many women.

They panted, fucked, grunted, groaned, and worked in a harmony that was remarkable considering the situation. Eventually, there was no doubt she was beginning to lose it...

She shouted out as her climax overpowered her, not caring in that exquisite moment that the restaurant might be able to hear her cries. If anything, it made the orgasm more powerful. Her groans grew louder.

Her uninhibited orgasm, and shuddering body, created a delicious sensation impossible to counter. He, Alistair Brinkley-Jones, had fucked this delightful beauty. His psychiatrist. The first time since he'd met Erika that he'd fucked another woman without her knowledge.

It made the moment sweeter, more magical. He raised up on his tiptoes, pummelling her into the table with hard, swift strokes. He grunted and she fell into a continuous moan. His black cock was fucking her like an animal and Katie knew she was about to cum again.

She shook as her body trembled a second time. Just as she thought he had thoughtfully slowed his movements to allow her to enjoy her second climax, the bastard immediately picked up the pace. It was wonderful! He fucked her hard, his short strokes adding to her stimulation as well as his. His groans signalled the end of his journey.

"Gonna cum," he unnecessarily grunted as he thrust into her one last time.

Katie thrust her ass back against him as he reached the very edge and her movements resulted in a second, longer grunt. She thrust backwards again as he fired successive bursts of seed, his black body continually jerking until eventually he was spent.