Whisper 01: Trina and Lynn

"Don't pull it out, or push it in, just let it ride, please?" she pleaded.

"Whatever pleases you," he sincerely replied as Trina proceeded to bring herself off eventually pinning him against the far wall of the shower with her arms extended over to the other side for leverage as she fucked herself on him eventually exploding over the other side of the orgasmic mountain as he shot another load into her.

After she came down, she reached back as she felt him start to bend over. "No. I can't stand another like that. Not yet. But I am relaxed, sink your thumb in some more," she said, biting her lip as she experienced having her anus stretched for the first time.

"Don't you worry about getting dirty?" she asked broaching one of the issues she, and most had with anal play and sex.

"Aware of the possibility yes. Looking forward to it? No. But worried? No. We're in the shower, so that can be quickly taken care of," Lynn replied as he continued to stretch her and reminding himself to let her call all of these shots.

"I take it you've done anal?" she asked as she looked over her shoulder, concern and curiosity both on her face.

"Yes. When done right, I've always gotten compliments," he said. "But it is NOT for everyone. And the lady always calls all the shots and sets all the barriers," he said continuing to stroke her.

"And if I should want to?" she asked.

"Then I would want to give you an enema and clean you out so you would not worry about that," he said as she heard his smiles thinking she wanted to make him smile again and again and again.

"Plus, being a virgin - despite this," he chuckled as he drug the back of his thumbnail down her rectum getting her eyes to shoot open but her throat to coo, "you would need to be really stretched out and lubricated. I'm actually too big for most women for anal," he apologized.

"Ah, but that's the challenge," she said. "Pull out, and let's dry off. You have to go to work, and I have to go home and trim and shave my pussy, too many strays for you eating me like that," she smiled, kissing him addressing something he wasn't certain he could bring up without bruising a feeling or three.

"And I want a lot more of that. And thumbs up my ass too," she admitted her eyes smiling at him as his eyes registered what she was implying.

Lynn picked her up at 3:30 taking her to a hole-in-the-wall seafood joint that had great 2-pound lobsters - 'Don't buy bigger. Pound and a half to two are the sweetest' he told her - and huge, wonderful, breaded scallops and scrumptious crab cakes.

They drank cold, Mexican beer with the seafood as they ate for almost an hour. Taking their time, visiting, catching up on family and mutual friends.

"Your place or mine?" he asked gently, early in the evening so he would know if he needed to purchase a couple of bottles of wine, or if they would savor some of his personal stock.

"While I would really like to just look at your place, snoop around and get a feel for the man you are, I fear that's a bit presumptuous of me," she said, reminding herself to continue to be open and honest.

"Mine, then. It's closer to our jobs," he replied being practical. "But let's go by your apartment and let you pick up some clothes for work tomorrow, and some casual and sleep clothes, and toiletries," he said as her eyes widening before she laughed deeply accepting he wanted a far more extensive relationship than a one-night stand.

They took a cab to his apartment. As soon as they were in the door, Lynn gently turned her and resumed kissing. Several minutes later he broke the kiss and began to undress her stopping her when she tried to help.

"My house, my pace, please," he asked. "Besides I'm way behind and need to catch up," he smiled as a shiver went down her spine thinking of his three for one policy, and he was down four already. Oh, this was going to be fun!

By the time she was down to just her panties Trina was giggling. He had been softly kissing her, loving on every piece of her anatomy finally returning to kissing her passionately as if she was the only thing in the universe.

"You do know you are gorgeous?" he asked.

"No. I am not. I am attractive. But I am not fashion plate or Hollywood gorgeous - but don't ever stop telling me that," she giggled. "A woman is always sensitive about her appearance and attractiveness."

Lynn picked her up and carried her into the living area resting her on the leather coach as he continued to kiss on her.

"Oww, cold," she said shivering more from excitement than from the chill on her firm, fencer's butt.

"Well then let me warm you up," he said as he began to kiss his way down her body. She soon found herself with her feet on his shoulders as he knelt between her legs as he 'ate pussy through the cloth'.

After several minutes, Trina quivered and moaned. Her sex oozed waves of fluids as she had what she thought of as a 'medium good' orgasm.

"That doesn't count," he said pulling his glistening face away from her sex. "That's just the warmup - a prelim."

"Well, what are you waiting for?' she demanded as she levered her rump partially up off the now very warm couch as he peeled her soaked panties from her, tossing them over his head and onto his armchair then leaned back on the couch raising her rump towards him.

He then dove in with vigor. Soon Trina was having a No.1 mind-blowing orgasm thinking, 'Shit if he does that with his mouth, what the hell can the rest of him do? And delighted in the excitement of learning.

Shortly after 6 they got out of the shower as Lynn helped dry and brush out her hair scoring untold points with the young lady. He was still behind, but only by three. He proved to be a bit of a wart as she tried to dress to go to work causing her to giggle and appreciate the attention, and the unbridled affection.

"Call me when you get off," he asked kissing her at the door leaving his apartment.

"I typically get up early," he said. "I want to see you again."

Trina rode a cab to work that night. Lynn had insisted and gave her two twenties to cover the three and a half block drive, both ways. He didn't tell her he was walking over to the house to make a report, which turned interesting when the boss asked about his love life as a throw-away inquiry.

"Sir?" Lynn asked, startled.

"Well, you seem more upbeat than I have come to expect when wrestling with, yet another international issue accompanied by untold levels of death and mayhem. So, yeah, it's got to be something that has you mellowed out. So, how's your love life - and I ask hoping it has seen an upswing," the president smiled at the young man of whom he had grown fond.

"Funny you should ask, sir," he said not certain how to proceed. He was never one to kiss and tell.

"Boss, there's a problem," he said getting the president's attention as he explained his background with a 'young lady I am seeing' not providing her name until the predicate had been set.

When he told the President Trina's name his eyes got big and then began to squint as his face got serious as he pondered the implications.

"She knows what you do?" he was asked.

"I confirmed I am your man on Special Forces. She did not press. She asked so she would know what subjects to stay clear of, sir."

"Tread carefully. Be honest, with her, obviously, with yourself, and with me," the President responded.

"Well, if you can each stick within the previously agreed upon parameters, then consider this your security notification as I am writing it down to CYA you and I both," his boss replied.

Turned out they both had Friday and Saturday off. It being Tuesday night, Lynn had some thoughts about that.

Trina called his apartment as she was getting ready to leave and then nearly panicked realizing that the number would be recorded by the White House switchboard and could lead to 'issues' for him.

"I'm getting ready to leave," she said, and then blurted. "Lynn, I screwed up and called on the press room line. The switchboard," she started only to have him cut her off.

"It's okay. I'll tell why. Meet me for breakfast at the diner?" he asked setting the meeting for 10 minutes, about how long it would take each to walk. Her from the White House. He from his apartment. He had been up for an hour dressed and ready for half that time. He knew he was excited, and anxious, and happy.

The couple walked in together as Mildred chuckled. "Whatcha having. Besides each other!" she chuckled "And I'm glad to see you coming from opposite directions, or I might be gettin' the wrong, dirty ideas," the 170-pound, five-foot-eight black woman laughed.

"Well, they would be the correct 'wrong ideas'," Trina laughed. "Every last one of them," she said blushing slightly, her stomach tossing and turning, she held her gaze at the waitress until she glanced away, then led Lynn by the hand back to 'their booth.'

"Mildred order me something different, please," Trina said, "and switch up old fuddy duddy to something else as well," she commanded watching to see what Lynn would do - which was chuckle and say, "Fine with me" as Mildred put her coffee and his iced tea on the table.

"Now why's it okay?" Trina asked, "my stomach's been in knots all the way over here about getting you into trouble."

"Because the President already knows you and I are seeing each other," he said.

"He asked me why I was in a good mood when about 90 percent of what I report on is serious if not catastrophic. And then he asked how my love life was, speculating on why the good mood." Lynn said pausing to sip his tea.

"And what did you tell him?" she asked concern still mirrored on his face.

"Oh, I told him you were the best piece of ass I had ever had, even better than the pros in Thailand," he said waiting to see her reaction.

"Well, you better have said that!" she said assertively just as Mildred "You go girl. Don't take any guff off of Mr. Smarty-pants here!"

"No, I didn't tell him that. But I thought it, think it," Lynn said quickly climbing out of the doghouse. "I told him it had possibilities I wanted to pursue to a conclusion," he said honestly.

"Well, I like that response almost as much as the first one," Trina said snickering while realizing she was blushing as well.

"Listen mister!" Mildred commanded. "You better treat this young lady nice. Like a lady. Or you're answering to me. Now eat, both of you. Ya know ya gotta keep your stamina up for those nighttime games," she giggled.

"Oh God I can't believe what we're talking about!" Trina exclaimed as Mildred walked back to the register to check out one of the other customers.

"Embarrassed? I'm sorry," Lynn started.

"No. Just surprised at how fast it's gotten to this point. I'm a big girl. I like sex, with the right partner, and you are. I just am surprised at how openly I'm willing to talk and flirt about it. That's all," she said as her light blush continued down her face, neck and upper chest to bury itself in her cleavage.

They discussed their schedules for the rest of the week.

Trina had to run down to Camp Lejeune for an overnight later that day but would be back Friday morning.

Her story was to go out the end of next week. So, she had time to work on it after she got back. She would play with the lead paragraph and general organization in her head as Naval Aviation flew her back to DC. Once that was fleshed out, the rest would fall into place.

"And you?" she asked and then quickly backtracked, "I'm sorry I shouldn't..."

"No, you have a right to ask if I'm going to be in town or not. I'm in town the rest of the week, barring the unexpected," he said slowly as if he was contemplating something.

"I fly out of the country next Wednesday but should be back that Saturday-Monday time frame," he said carefully not telling her where and realizing this was the first big test of how well she would accept that or push back.

Seeing her stilling her natural inquisitiveness not to press he added, "When I can tell you where beforehand I will. Where I can, after the fact, I will. Frankly I need to get some ground rules from my boss on this," he explained realizing that they, all three of them, would have to deal with some complications.

"That's fine. Yours is a high, if not highest security occupation. Too much information could hurt others, or even worse hurt you. I don't want to do that. Besides, some of my editors have been encouraging me to explore other military specialties and not just special forces," she said dropping a hint to see if he would encourage her.

That morning Lynn booked a cabin on the banks of the New River Gorge - some of the prettiest parts of West Virginia. He knew she could swim, so he figured between the outdoors, white water rafting or kayaking, depending on her skill level, and hiking, they would have some outdoor fun to balance their indoor recreation.

After his morning briefing, he was surprised when he was asked to step into the President's office to find the Commanding General of the Green Berets and the Rear Admiral over the Navy Seals seated before the President's desk and none of them appeared happy. It was a push whether the President was more pissed, or the two brass hats!

"Gentlemen let me make this abundantly clear to Major Hightower, and to both of you. His job is to look over your shoulders, pry into every dank, dark corner you have, find every fucking secret you'd rather no one else know about, and make sure - to my level of satisfaction - we don't have any more cluster fucks like that shit the CIA conned your predecessors into.

"That means he will have complete access. That means he also has 'go, no go' authority over your operations - BEFORE he even talks to me! You are ordered to accept his 'go, no go' as direct orders from me. Is that clear?"

When neither flag officer responded quickly, the president growled softly with the threat dripping off each word, "The appropriate response gentlemen when asked a question by the Commander in Chief is an enthusiastic 'Yes sir!'" he snarled his face becoming flush with anger.

"Yes sir" the two flag officers growled.

"Gentlemen, I am mightily pissed at the shenanigans that has abused our special forces and cost us good men previously. You two are where you are because you didn't have anything to do with it. The press headlines are a direct result of a lack of leadership - both in this office, in your offices and especially in the offices of the intelligence community. I do not want to go around relieving good men of their commands because others have created these situations.

"That man right there is my eyes and ears into the special operations community, which means into the intelligence community as well. They are scheduled for this talk after lunch," he said laying a trap for the two.

"When he asks a question, it is the President asking the question. Are we clear on that?" he demanded.

"Yes sir," both responded.

This time they were quicker with a less bitter response. It helped learning that the intelligence community was going to get ripped. After all, tit was those bastards that had the hair brain ideas their predecessors had bought into.

As a result, neither man tipped their contacts off. The bastards deserved more than an ass chewing, but that would be a good start.

"Good now the three of you get the hell out of my office and go to his and talk. The next time I see the three of you in here I want you either on the same page, or having a legitimate, professional disagreement for which I must referee. And not a petty, chickenshit turf war either," he warned.

"Go!" he commanded.

Lynn led the two back to his small office glad he at least had two armchairs for visitors realizing the gossip the short trek would cause.

"Sirs, would you care for anything to drink?" he asked in his outer office.

"You have some arsenic?" Gen. Mayfield growled.

"No sir. Was that for me, or you, or the admiral," Lynn asked smiling hoping to take the tension down a notch or three.

"It's for the swabbie, of course. Us Marines have to stick together," the general said deciding to see what the young buck's agenda is. "Coffee for me, you Frank?" he asked the admiral - they had been at the Academy together, although a year apart in age.

"Okay Hightower what's your agenda?" the admiral asked after the coffee for them and tea for him had been delivered.

"Shit if I'd known you had that I would have asked for it," Admiral Constance muttered grimacing at his acidic stomach from too much coffee on top of too much stress.

"I can get you some. Anything to make you the sweet, ole grandpa you are," Lynn smiled.

"Yes, please," he said as Lynn nodded yes to his administrative assistant/secretary.

"As far as my agenda, the Presidents' orders to me was (a) 'to make damned certain none of the fools in the unintelligence community ever pull any shit like that again!', (b) make certain you guys had the tools, the manpower, and the logistical support you needed to do the missions the President assigns you, and (c) to make certain the testosterone levels of your field commanders don't override common sense and put their men, the President's men, at unnecessary risk while attempting to complete the mission," he stated paraphrasing his conversation with President Carter in which the NCA cursed - a lot! He was really pissed.

"And what about you interfering with us?" the general asked.

"It'll happen. I'm looking at the missions from a field commander's perspective. I'm also looking at them from the broader geo-political landscape including the probability of political and international fall-out.

"Don't you gentlemen think our biggest problems, and most difficult to address, are going to be systemic guerrilla efforts?" he asked.

The three of them discussed general parameters for the next hour. Getting seconds and thirds on iced tea.

"Lynn," the admiral said. "I'll warn you there's a whole lot of brass hats in my wing who still want your balls on a platter for that stunt, that exchange you and The Snake pulled off. I'm not one of them. I still think you and Snake were fucking crazy to do what you did. I still think you're both certifiable!

"But you two earned the right to go off the reservation - especially considering the only risks were to yourselves. And I'm damned glad we got our guys back as quickly as we did. There's a study my superiors buried that said 30 to 40 of the POWs would have died within a year from malnutrition and disease if they had not been released when they were.

"I'm still gonna bitch and moan and groan about you when I'm across the river, but I pray I don't lose sight of the fact that your number one goal was to bring all our guys home at the end of the day," he concluded.

"Coyote, we'll butt heads. But that's okay, you always were the best at plans and logistics as well as execution. Your eyes are welcome, annoyingly a pain in the ass, but welcome," the general said. "It means we'll have better operational plans than if we had proceeded without your oversight."

The afternoon session with the heads of the intelligence agencies did not go anywhere near as well with Lynn eventually reaching for his phone and asking, "Are you willfully disobeying a direct order from the President of the United States? In that case I was instructed to inform the Chief of Staff to issue the press release announcing the President dismissing you from your posts!" Lynn growled as a 60 second stare-down began with three of the five agency heads eventually bending to the presidents' will - and vowing to themselves 'to fuck over the little sonofabitch' at every opportunity.

Lynn stared at the reluctantly on their faces and decided to call the bluff of the acting deputy director of the CIA - who had managed to insulate himself from the shitstorm following the failed raid in Africa.