Diplomat's Sex Life - Kate UptonbyStandingStone©
Breakfast. Shower. Driving to work. Nothing on that banal morning could have led Alex to believe his life was about to change completely. It was not that he was unhappy. Recently out of a dying relationship, a new job with the UK's embassy in America, he felt good about his future. He just had no idea how good it was about to get.
Crossing the Potomac River as he drove toward Embassy Row and the Naval Observatory, in the shadow of which the British Embassy was nestled, Alex's mind turned toward the day ahead.
A security briefing about the joint US-UK response to the civil war in Syria, a boring welcome for a trade delegation from Virginia that wanted to sell more to Britain....oh and a 'secret meeting' with his boss, Sir Bradley Urquhart. Sir Bradley had rung Alex very late the previous evening, to tell him to come to his office alone at the end of the next day. Sir Bradley wouldn't go into further details on the phone. That was hardly unexpected, diplomats lived in fear of wire-tapping from spies or over-eager journalists. But the ambassador's voice had been odd, almost conspirational with an undertone of anxiety Alex was not used to.
Pulling into the embassy's driveway, Alex's heart sank as he saw a fleet of cars with Virginia plates already there. They had arrived. Alex drove Sir Bradley's meeting from his mind, took a deep breath and dove into his day.
It passed much as he had thought. The Syrian briefing proved utterly wasteful, with the Pentagon unwilling to commit to sending any troops or even to help¬ finance a military presence by European allies. Alex had to plumb on the very depths of his professionalism to not tell Mr. James Barnett, from the Chamber of Commerce of Fairfax, Virginia that he could feed his report on livestock exports to that very same livestock for all he cared. He had almost forgotten about the 'secret meeting' and was counting the minutes to the end of the day when his phone rang.
'Sir?' he answered, snapping back to reality. 'Alexander.' Sir Bradley always insisted on using full names. A political intern at the British Council had been summarily fired when the ambassador caught her referring to him as Brad. 'Please come to my office, there's a good lad.' The ambassador's office was a confused affair, a mixture of Victorian architecture and garish pop art, Warhol meets Constable. Politely ignoring the décor as ever, Alexander entered and took a seat on a painfully rigid wooden chair as the paunchy Sir Bradley waddled in from his private study. 'Ah, Alexander, good, welcome.' Alex had been working in the embassy for three months but could not get over how truly hideous the ambassador was. A kind and wise man, with a rare gift for diplomacy, but his sunken features, short, jowly physique and slight hunch made him stand out in attractive and well-groomed Washington diplomatic corps.
'What can I do for you, sir?' asked Alexander, still anxious to get home.
'Patience, my lad.' Sir Bradley hopped up onto his velours leather chair with difficulty and fiddled in a drawer for a long moment, eventually heaving a large file onto the desk and flipping it open.
'Now, this is the situation. Although you were sent out here as a political attaché, a matter of some urgency has come up which we require you to handle. It seems that certain famous women in this country have been receiving unwanted attention from one of our British citizens.'
'A stalker, sir?'
'Well, this is the thing. These women have been receiving very and highly personalized information concerning their everyday movements. Pictures, emails, letters detailing where they were, who they were with and what they were doing.'
'But surely any paparazzi is also privy to that information if he follows them, sir?'
'Well, not exactly, you see. This information relates to matters which the press had no way of accessing. Personal medical records, interior decoration, even sleeping patterns. Police were warned but since no threats have been made, per se, they're not interested. So we would like you to go out to California, or wherever these women are, and investigate.'
Alex was aghast. He was a political operative and diplomat, trained for the parry-riposte of inside the Beltway international relations, not to serve as a lapdog to paranoid Hollywood celebrities. He was about to vehemently voice his concern when Sir Bradley slipped a picture out from the folder.
'Now, are you familiar with Katherine Upton?'
Alex's anger was instantly quenched. He was indeed familiar with Kate Upton, if not in person, then from a hundred late night Internet searches and countless sessions of self-abuse. He was so caught aback he must have looked hopelessly confused to Sir Bradley.
'Evidently not. Miss Upton is a successful American model, 20 years old, with a burgeoning career. She has appeared for such publications as Vogue and Sports Illustrated. Anyway, we were contacted by her management who are at their wit's end to find out what's going on. For the last six weeks, she has been receiving packages containing a lot of information about her personal life, but private investigators, bodyguards and the like have turned up nothing. You are to head out to New York where you will be residing with Miss Upton until you root out whoever is behind this.'
On the one hand, the thought of sorting out a celebrity's trash was Alex's idea of a very-well designed personal circle of hell. On the other, it was Kate Upton. She of the Dougie. She of the Cat Daddy. She of the Sports Illustrated cover. She of the Culo book. She of the unholy Vogue Germany video. But Sir Bradley wouldn't have factored this in.
'Sir, am I being punished for something? This is not exactly in my common line of work.'
Sir Bradley raised an eyebrow. He rarely tolerated any form of dissent, however jovial he initially appeared to be. 'Well, that's precisely it. This is not a common line of work. You are a diplomat, you must ready to protect and represent the realm's finest citizens but also bar the way to nefarious acts by Her Majesty's more nefarious subjects. I know this may seem a crushing bore, Alexander, but you are young, well-adapted to life in America and arguably the sharpest lad on staff. See this as a distraction from the trappings of power.'
I rather like the trappings of power, thought Alex as he walked out of the office. But still, a week with Kate Upton couldn't be all bad.
Granted, from interviews, she didn't seem to be the brightest tool in the shed. But let's face it, nobody looked at Kate Upton for her brains. Three days later, Alex's car pulled up at a fancy apartment building on Manhattan's 32nd street.
Kate Upton's apartment was in a central but not super-elite area of New York, but the location was a sign she had aspirations to move up in the world and up the island to a swankier postcode. His assigned driver, a portly, middle-weight and asthmatic Sri Lankan called Srinath, opened the door for him.
'Shall I wait for you here, Mr. Dale?'
'Thank you, Srinath. And I told you to call me Alex. Listen, I should be a couple of hours. You can wait at the coffee house on the corner.' Alex got out, dusted down his freshly pressed suit and walked up to the door. The buzz was quickly met with a young female voice with a Florida twang.
'Good morning, Miss Upton. It's Alex Dale here from the British Embassy.' Alex's voice was hoarse. That was odd, he thought, I'm nervous. He had faced down senators and ambassadors but the thought of the blonde sex kitten whose flat he was about to enter made him feel powerless. He consoled himself by thinking that any man would be.
'Ah, yes. Come up right away.' The buzzer opened the door and Alex made his way to the top floor penthouse. The lifts opened onto a very brightly lit corridor and Alex's eyes took a second to adapt. When they regained focus, a vision of paradise awaited him.
Framed as if in a portrait by the door of her apartment, Kate Upton stood, clad in a white t-shirt and pantsuit. Alex swallowed audibly. The fabric of her t-shirt was strained by her voluptuous bosom, the tops of which were peeked out cheekily. The nipples were hidden by her blazer but it was clear she was not wearing a bra. Her hair fell about her shoulders in a carefully arranged disheveled manner and her eyes shone above a dazzling smile.
The consummate professional, Alex composed himself immediately and walked over to shake her hand. 'Miss Upton, delighted to meet you. Alex Dale.'
She shook his hand with a firm grip, telling of a perfectly toned body. 'Thank you so much for coming. We didn't know what to do. Do come in.' He followed her in but as she turned to close the door, he could not help noticing how snug her white cotton trousers were around the sexiest bottom he had ever seen. Her apartment was lovely if minimal, although Alex noticed a set of old pull-cord curtains with a heavy tasseled rope falling to one side and an odd African fertility sculpture.
As they sat, drinking coffee, Kate lounged back on her couch, stretching herself out in an almost feline way as they spoke. 'So can you tell me exactly what the situation has been?'
'I can't tell you much more than what was in the briefing my management prepared for you. About six weeks ago, and since then every week, a package has been left on my doorstep. It had no message, no letter, no demands, nothing. It simply contained pictures that nobody should have been able to take. Of me in my home, at my manager's office at IMG Models, on closed sets for various shoots. This has kept happening, it is very violating but it seems the packages contained nothing that could be used to incriminate the person. Even the CCTV cameras outside on the street didn't show anybody suspect entering the building.'
'Well, perhaps I'll see something someone else other people missed.' With a trained eye, Alex spent the best part of an hour, going over the pictures and the boxes they were sent in. At the end of it, he was thoroughly stumped. No fingerprints, no handwriting, no messages, nothing that could be used to trace the packages anyway. He was however not certain he was in possession of all his faculties. Some of the pictures were astonishingly intimate. Nothing compromising, no sex acts caught on camera, just shots of Kate living life at home, walking around in underwear, asleep on the couch, or on the phone.
Alex was already very familiar with Kate's body from her photo shoots but seeing her in her natural surroundings, relaxing at home, without photographers on her, she seemed infinitely sexier. The way her breasts seemed to defy the laws of physics. The curve of her ass as it rounded and fell towards her leg. He was breathing fairly heavily when he was done. Thankfully, Kate was out of the room. Or so he had thought.
As he put the papers down and rubbed his eyes, he caught Kate looking at him from the door to her bedroom, cradling a cup of tea. She had taken off her suit jacket, and one of her breasts was pushed up against the door frame, making it billow over the top of her t-shirt. As the steam rose from her tea, a wry smile came across her face. 'How's it going, Alex?'
Alex could scarcely breathe. 'I can find nothing so far. If you allow me, I'll take these documents home and investigate them further.'
'I'm afraid not. There are pictures of me there that are very private. I wouldn't want them accidentally getting out.'
She came over, put her cup down and took the folder gently out of Alex's hands and dumped it back on the table. 'You're welcome to work here as much as you like.'
Alex was acutely aware that his face was inches from hers. Her blonde hair smelled of guava, and kiwi, and pineapple and her blue eyes glistened as her upturned face looked up at him. When he looked back at that moment in the weeks and months ahead, he realized that something snapped deep within him then, something that he would never want to mend. For years, he had been condition toward a certain ideal, one he wanted to achieve but that had prevented him from living life fully, denying himself most indulgences. He had applied himself through school and university, sacrificed to climb the ranks of the Foreign Office, leaving little time for distractions. No more.
Grabbing Kate under the bottom, he lifted her up swiftly. She yelped in surprise and her arms clung to his shoulders to steady herself. She had no not protest though as her legs immediately wrapped around his lower back. Slamming her firmly against the wall, his lips found hers, his tongue snaked inside her warm mouth as his fingers kneaded her firm little ass through her white trousers. Alex's mind raced but he could not settle on any one thought.
He was kissing Kate Upton, one of the most desirable in the world. He could feel her large breasts mashed up against his chest. Her tight yet soft bottom was resting in the palm of his hands, each cheek a semi-circle of perfection, while his middle finger rode up her crack. Her arms moved to the back of his head, forcing him closer to her as they kissed. Their tongues lashed at each other as if they were dueling knights, seeking a killing blow. She moaned softly into his mouth, turning him on even more if that was possible. His penis went from zero to a hundred 0.3 seconds, straining painfully through his boxers and suit trousers.
Finally breaking the kiss, a thin trail of saliva linking their lips, Kate looked at him with pure lust. 'God, that felt good. Listen, how about we take this to the bedroom?' Wiggling free, Kate dropped to the floor, slipped a hand into his belt and motioned toward the door. 'Trust me, you're not going anywhere for a while.'
Alex followed, his penis pointing exactly where they were going. 'I have no plan to.' He wanted to ask many questions. Why him? She could have any guy in the world she wanted. What if he didn't measure up? Wasn't this a huge conflict of interest? All of these were driven from his mind the second he entered the bedroom. A huge four-poster bed dominated the large friendly room, with bay windows letting sunshine stream in. Two well-tended green plants gave the air a fresh, leafy smell.
But what grabbed Alex's attention was the large box of sex toys next to the bed. Dildos, anal beads, ropes, handcuffs, a feather boa, Kate Upton's bedroom was very well-equipped for some seriously kinky fun.
Kate followed his gaze and cracked a laugh. 'I see my collection caught your eye.'
Recovering his wits slowly, Alex nodded. 'You have to admit, it's not what I was expecting walking into my first celebrity bedroom.'
'True, but the minute I saw you, I knew I'd be fucking you so I didn't see the point in hiding them.'
Alex never knew what possessed him to say 'What if I'd refused?'
Kate walked over and gave him a kiss that made his knees buckle. 'Oh, please. Now, sit on the edge of the bed. Also, do you have any appointments for the next six hours. No? Good.'
Alex complied as Kate walked a few feet away and turned her back to him. Bending over, she presented him with her cloth-covered ass, its cheeks perfectly outlined. Peeking round at him, she playfully asked, 'Like what you see?' Alex could only nod.
Her hands moved to her waist to undo her trouser button before she slowly pulled down her slacks over her ass. Alex could not believe his eyes. As the inches of tantalizingly delicious flesh were revealed, covered only by the skimpiest of green lace thongs, her ass bounced a little when completely freed from the trousers. Bounced. It actually bounced.
By this point, Alex's hard-on was actually painful so he quickly slipped off his suit, leaving him in his shirt and boxers. Kate tutted at him. 'Don't you dare touch that dick. I want it perfect and ready when I fuck you into submission.'
Alex had to sit on his hands to stop them from instinctively jacking himself off so hard his foreskin would rip in two. Walking back to the bed, Kate then dropped to her knees between his legs. Her breasts were so large and snug they actually rubbed against the inside of his thighs while she looked up at him. He pressed in with his legs, feeling the soft bounty within Kate's shirt give way slightly.
'God, I can't wait to get my hands on those,' he murmured. Kate laughed, a high twinkling laugh that was somehow half innocent, half slutty. 'Oh, honey, your hands, your mouth, your dick, you're going to get them on every single part of me you want.'
As she spoke, her hands grasped the bottom of her shirt and lifted it over her head in one swift move. Alex almost ruined everything by coming in his boxers right then.
They were simply too perfect. Kate had tantalized her fans for several years with ever more revealing shoots that showed her cupping her breasts, in shirts with overflowing cleavage, or even in wet T-shirts with her breasts almost fully defined. But never had Alex imagined the true heavenly perfection of Kate Upton's boobs, naked and in the flesh. He knew they were a 34D but that was just a meaningless number to him now. The swell as they rose and fell with Kate's breaths would have made the Pope forswear his vows. They were large on her slender and yet fit perfectly. She giggled to see him spell-bound and they bounced again, small ripples playing across their surface for a couple of seconds. The tiny pink nipples on top and small, pale aureolas only made them more delectable.
Alex could no longer control himself. Reaching forward, he softly palmed a handful of titty flesh in each hand and slowly kneaded it, making Kate moan softly under her breath. They were even better than he imagined. Their weight rested in his palms as he lifted them from underneath and let them fall, mesmerized by their swaying. Kate was moaning more heavily, her eyes half-closed.
Suddenly, she was on him. Her mouth clasped to his, she pushed herself on the bed next to him and forced him on top of her. Alex got rid of his boxers and T-shirt in the exchange, kicking them off the red sheets that covered the bed. Coming up for air, he looked at Kate with pure lust and said: 'This is the greatest day of my life.'
'You have no idea how good it's going to get yet,' Kate replied. Placing one hand on each side of her boobs, she pressed them together creating a beautiful mountain of boobage, with a nice cavern nestling in their middle. 'Get in there.'
Alex couldn't believe it. 'You want me to titfuck you?'
Kate nodded, looking angelic as she did. 'I want you to slide your big cock in between my boobs, grab them and fuck them as hard as you want. I want you to look down at me while you do that, and realize that you are doing what every man fantasizes about and I chose you. I want to see your face twisted with pleasure while you fuck my boobs. I want to lick the tip of your dick every time it pokes out from between my breasts. I want to feel your balls tighten against my chest. Then, I want you to scream while you come like a fire hydrant between my tits and in my mouth as I deepthroat you. How does that sound?'
Alex was utterly incapable of speech but nodded his consent. As Kate squeezed her huge books into position and rubbed a small amount of mint lube on them, Alex slid up her body and kneeled over her, his ass resting on her stomach.
His rock hard penis stood at attention and Kate seemed to approve as she gave it a welcome kiss before Alex steered it between her tits. The sensation as Kate closed her breasts around his dick, making it completely disappear from view, was unlike anything he had ever felt. Every part of his dick was in heaven. He began fucking her breasts softly, with Kate's tongue snaking out to lick the tip on every thrust as she had promised. She was propped up on some pillows and the lube formed a natural path for his dick to slide through the tunnel of her tits, ride up her chin and into her mouth for a second before sliding back out.