Hot for Hillary (Rodham Clinton)bybtraven©
She grabbed his balls, and he felt himself growing excited in spite of himself.
"No, I didn't have to screw anyone yet. A flash of leg is all it takes to get these old men to come all over themselves."
He was seriously fucking her now. He was close to coming, and thought she was close too, although she expertly kept her voice calm.
She laughed. "No, I wouldn't tell you if I was, Bill. You didn't tell me about the bimbo you screwed in our bed at the White House today, did you?"
He heard the voice on the other end of the phone get loud.
She was dripping wet, and their fucking was now making slight slurping sounds that he prayed couldn't be heard over the phone. She wrapped her legs around his ass, forcing his cock deeper into her.
She gave a evil laugh. "I didn't know, Bill - it was a good guess on my part."
She quickly inserted a finger into his ass, causing his prostrate to trigger. He came showing wave after wave of semen into Hillary. He had to bite his knuckle to keep from crying out. He felt her body relax against him.
"Ok, Bill, say goodnight to Chelsea for me. And I hope you're planning on sleeping alone tonight - the press will have a field day."
She hung up the phone, and smiled at him.
"That was Bill." she said cheerfully.
"I know." he groaned.
They laid back on the bed exhausted.
"Am I as good as Becky?" she asked.
His body suddenly tightened up.
"What? Do you know Becky?" He sat up on looked toward Hillary. Her perky breasts were uncovered.
She smiled back at him. "Sure. Becky Peterson, your ex. We lady lawyers have to stick together. "Did you know she was just named a full partner in her firm?"
"Well, I heard she was in line for it." he replied.
"She told me you were tight-assed and very controlling. But you could also be a good lay. That's what intrigued me about you."
He started feeling anger well up again.
"Oh, don't get mad. Women talk when they are together. I was just intrigued by you, and when the opportunity arose, I selected you for my Secret Service agent."
Her hands went under the covers. Hillary grabbed his cock and stroked it lightly until it was hard. He thought he was utterly spent for the night, but Hillary knew the right way to tough him. She was stroking him harder now and he found his excitment building.
She withdrew suddenly. He pushed his torso over to her and looked at her pleadingly.
"Hillary?", he started touching himself.
"I want to you to do something first, John.", ignoring his pleas.
She pulled the covers down and opened her legs wide. She took his head and guided it toward the dark junction of her legs.
He stopped her.
"Hillary, I, uh, ..." he stuttered.
"You what? Don't eat pussy. You probably wouldn't mind if I sucked your dick. But it is too undignified for you to satisfy me? Besides its too yucky and smelly. The big macho Secret Service agent with his big gun can't stoop to satisfy a lady." she sounded angry.
In a calmer tone she said, "John, look I know you don't like to do this. I had to talk my teenaged girl friends into doing it, but once they did it they enjoying eating my pussy as much as being eaten out themselves. Take your time, John. There are other ways of satisfying a lady. Besides, after you do me, I'll do you." She rolled her tongue in a suggestive way.
"I knew that would get to you." He imagined her pretty blond face covered with his semen, and felt himself grow harder.
"Good. I'll show you, John." She guided his head gently but firmly.
Her pussy was musky smelling but not altogether unpleasant. Hillary Rodham Clinton's pussy was actually pretty with soft brown fur and lips opened like an exotic orchid. He stuck out his tongue tentatively, barely touching her outer labia.
"Deeper." She pushed his head further down. He had trouble breathing.
He stuck out his tongue again, entering her slit.
'A little bit higher." she demanded.
He moved his tongue a little higher along her crack and probed with his tongue.
Bingo. She squirmed. Hillary wrapped her legs around his head, trapping him.
He licked again and again. Feeling her body stirring.
"Harder but slower." she said with a slight crack in her voice.
He found the right rhythm as his tongue teased Hillary's clitoris. She wrapped her legs tighter, suffocating him.
Her body was now shaking. He was surprising to find himself stirring, with his cock now throbbing. He didn't really enjoy licking Hillary Clinton's pussy so much, but found himself getting off on her reaction. Nothing was turn-on like a turned-on sexy lady. And Hillary Rodham Clinton was one sexy lady. He wanted her to come to a screaming orgasm.
He knew she was close as her hips started to jack-knife. An idea came to him. As he continued licking her pussy with ernestness, he reached under her buttocks and slipped his finger into her anus.
"Ooohhhh, John, Ahhhh." Hillary was out of control now, squeezing his head until he saw stars.
"Ohhhh . . ." She loosened her grip on him. Her body collapsed like a rag doll. He moved his head back to the pillow. He hugged her and there were both silent.
"That was good, John ... the best." He was feeling quite proud of himself. She stroked his head.
She sat up with a start.
"John, I'm feeling tired. Can you go back to your bed." she said flatly.
"Uh, Hillary." he looked at her pleadingly.
"I'm sorry, John. I'm just too tired. Maybe you can finish yourself off."
He was smoldering with anger and got up and grabbed his clothes. Without bothering to put them on, he went to the door. He paused and looked back. She had rolled over.
No reply. Maybe she was asleep by now - or maybe just ignoring him.
He went out in the hall to his own room. He felt hurt and used and spent. He vowed never to go near that fucken bitch again, even if meant his career. On the other hand maybe she was just tired. He could remember times when he had fallen asleep immediately after sex even if his partner was still unsatisfied. Or maybe this whole thing was a game to her. She certainly seemed to lose control over his incipient attempt at pussy eating, but she seemed to snap out of the throes of her ecstatic orgasm pretty quickly - so maybe it was an act. Anyway, sleep. He needed sleep. And maybe things would seem clearer tomorrow.
He dreamed of Becky during better times. It was their their honeymoon. They had a picnic in the hills near San Francisco. It was spring and there was a warm, fragrant breeze in the air. They walked hand-in-hand through the grassy pastures, full of love for each other. He knew nothing else in this life would ever compare to this moment. They sat down together in the grass, and kissed deeply. He ran his hand through her golden hair. He looked into her beautiful eyes and realized that it was Hillary. They kissed with warmth and deep affection. Hillary now unzipped his fly and teased the tip of his engorged cock with her tongue. He laid there gazing into the endless blue sky while Hillary's ministrations caused the heat in his loins to slowly rise. Life was bliss.
He awoke sweaty. It was still dark, and he smiled as he recalled his dream. He felt a wet mouth ernestly sucked his cock. Not sure if he was still dreaming, he reached down.
"Hillary? ..." She continued to expertly work on his cock. bobbing her head back and forth. She took his root deeply into her mouth, lightly brushing his cock against her teeth. Her tongue darted, teasing the head of cock. His heart was now pounding and he knew he was close to exploding. Just as he felt he was about to shoot his load into Hillary's mouth. She got up.
She walked to the door without turning around. Her rounded bare ass wiggled slightly as she walked.
"Hillary!!", he pleaded.
She laughed wickedly. "Good night, John." She closed the door behind her.
The bitch! He was angry, hurt - and excited. It did not take him long for him to relieve himself with his hand. He feel into a deep sleep immediately afterwards.
The next morning she was friendly when he came to pick Hillary up to escort her downstairs to the convention. With a mischievious smile she handed him a rolled-up bundle for him to dispose of; and when he examined it he discovered that it was the nightgown and panties he had ripped off of her the previous night. He looked at the bundle guiltily and quickly threw it down the incinerator. Other than that, nothing passed between them about the night before. At the convention she gave a very well-crafted keynote address on the need for a national health care plan; and crowd applauded loudly afterwards. She displayed the same remarkable skills she had shown the previous day in working the crowd. He watched her from the back wall giving her sales pitch with her sparkling smile and bright eyes. Last night had been like a dream, and he wasn't sure what to make of it yet. He watched Hillary and felt himself light-headed and warm at the same time. God help him, he thought, he was falling in love. He fought hard to to suppress that thought.
He tried to catch her eye, but Hillary didn't seem to notice him. He shouldn't have felt bad about this because after all it was a Secret Service agent's job to remain in the background and not be noticed. Later she went up to him and flashed a friendly smile.
"I've been thinking about you all day", she whispered as she brushed her hand lightly against the front of his pants, feeling his now-erect cock underneath.
His heart lept, and he looked around wildly to see if anyone noticed, but no one seemed to see anything out the ordinary.
"Tonight." she whispered longingly; and, then, left him there with his heart racing.
He felt like a nervous teenaged girl, waiting by the phone in his room for Hillary to call. She didn't actually say she would call. They didn't say much as he dropped her off after the convention and they each went to their room. But he assumed she would call him later to tell him to come to her room. She would at least have to call him if she was planning on going out so he could accompany her as Secret Service agent. She's not going to call, he thought, and his heart sank.
The phone rang. He grabbed for it, almost knocking it to the floor.
"Aren't you coming, John?"
"Uh, sure. I'll be right there." he stammered.
He knocked on her door.
She was sitting on the sofa wearing the same robe as she did the previous night. She smiled but didn't get up.
"I thought that day would never end." she said wearlily.
She looked at him with a twinkled in her eye,
"How come your clothes are still on, John?"
He quickly took his clothes off. He felt nervous standing there wearing nothing but an erection while Hillary Clinton still sat there in her robe watching him.
She studied him. Drinking in the details of his body. She got up, and ran her fingers through the hair on his chest. Her touch was electric, sending tingles down his spine.
"You have a nice body, John." she said in a low voice.
She wrapped her hand around his engorged cock, stroking it lightly. Then, she squeezed hard, making him wince.
"Oow." he cried with pain, but he was still erect, though. In fact, his cock was throbbing with excitment.
She removed her robe slowly and deliberately while she watched his reaction. Hillary Rodham Clinton had on a shiny black leather corset with matching thigh-high boots. Why hadn't he noticed the boots before under her robe? The corset accentuated rather than covered her nudity. The corset was open at the top exposing and lifting her breasts high. Below, the corset came down to her navel. Since she wore no panties she was bared ass from there down to top of her boots. The black contrasted well with her golden blond hair and light complexion.
"Like it?" she said teasingly. He was very excited, and also felt a sense of dread like a bird transfixed in the gaze of a snake. He swallowed dryly.
She touched his cock again, and he felt like jumping out of his skin.
"A little jumpy?" she asked playfully.
She reached over and picked up a black bag from behind the sofa chair. He followed the curves of her rounded bare bottom as she bent over. She picked up what looked like a doctors bag, and placed it in front of him.
"What's that?" he asked in a weak voice.
"Just a bag of tricks I bought at a shop in Miami recommended to me by Janet Reno. That old bull dyke knows all the tricks."
Sweat beaded on his forehead. He felt scared in spite of his excitment. He knew he was not ready for this kind of scene. This was going too far.
She pulled some long silk scarfs out of the bag.
"Give me your hands, John." she demanded.
"No.", he said in a firm voice. "I'm not doing this, Hillary. You're a good-looking lady and you can certainly excite me, but this is going too far. It was nice but it is going to end here. I'm getting dressed and going back to my room."
She started to say something, but he cut her off.
"And don't try the rape ploy either. I'm sure you'd have as much to explain as I would."
He expected a fireworks of histrionics from her, but she said nothing and looked at him disappointedly. Calmly reached over to his bundle of clothes on the floor and picked up his gun.
"Hillary!" he shouted. But she had the safety off and the gun pointed at his abdomen before he could react.
"I didn't want it come to this, John. But you disappointed me."
"Hillary, please give me the gun. Look, we can play any games you want - just give me the gun." he said trying to keep his voice calm.
"As you've said, John. It's gone too far." She pushed the gun against his stomach. The blue steel gun felt cold against his skin.
"Go in the bedroom, John." He could have tried to make a grab for the gun. And he though he could have succeeded, but he wasn't sure. He felt very vulnerable standing here naked with a gun pointed at him. Later he would wonder shamefully whether he hesitated because he really wanted to go through with Hillary's game.
He entered the bedroom, sweaty and shaken. She followed behind him with the gun.
"Get on the bed, John." He carefully streached out on the bed. He looked up at Hillary longingly. He was hoping they could fuck and she would, then, forget the gun.
"The other way, John."
She saw the puzzled look in his eyes.
"Turn around on the bed face down", she said as if talking to a small child.
She raised the gun.
"Do it, John.", he turned around on the bed, feeling more vulnerable with his bare ass sticking up. He looked behind him, not knowing what to expect.
She walked over to him. He could smell the musk of her arousal.
She expertly tied his hands and feet to the bedpost. He was relieved to see her place the gun down carefully on the endtable by the bed. If he could get his left hand untied he might be able to grab the gun before she could. He pulled at his restraint and it seemed too tight.
"Here we are, John. I really shouldn't have had to use the gun. You'll see - it won't be so bad. In fact you might beg to be tied up by me later."
"Hillary, it doesn't have to be like this. Let's just make love the normal way."
She reached into her black bag and pulled out a riding crop.
"Normal?" she laughed, "What is normal? You have a lot to learn, John, about the ways of making love."
He pulled at his restraints madly.
"Hillary! please." he pleaded. "Hillary, I ...", he voice caught for a moment. "love you." He couldn't believe he was actually saying that, but being tied up naked on a bed with a beautiful woman standing over you probably helped focus your thoughts.
"I love you too, John." she said as she cracked the whip down hard on his ass. The sharp pain caught him by surprise, and a drew a deep breath.
She rubbed the raised welt on his buttock lovingly. "As you might have heard there is a fine line between pleasure and pain. Since the days of primitive humans sex has always been accompanied by a measure of pain."
She cracked the riding crop hard on the opposite buttock.
"You've seen the caricatures. The brawny caveman drags the woman to his cave by her hair. You never see the next scene where he violently fucks her brains out in the dampness of the cave. Sex and pain."
She cracked the whip again.
Maybe he was getting used to the pain because it didn't hurt as much this time. He pulled his left hand again at the restraint. It didn't budge. He tried to think of what he had read long ago about Houdini's technique for untying ropes. He studied the knot, picturing it in three dimensions in his mind. He pulled slightly at the knot testing it for weakness at different angles.
Hillary continued, talking as she were addressing a lecture hall.
"What do the cave people do afterwards? Do they fuck again? Maybe they expect the pain the next time because its association has been ingrained in their psyches. Maybe she begs him to pull her hair as they fuck like dogs in the darkness. Outside the cave maybe he has to fight off rivals for the woman, again associating pain with sex."
She struck him again followed closely by another blow.
The pain seemed to settle into a warmth deep with him. Maybe she was right about pleasure and pain. His erection pushed painly against bed. Trying to keep a clear head he tested the restraint at his left hand further, feeling careful for a loosening.
"You're feeling it aren't you, John. Its nothing to be ashamed of. Its the way we're programmed biologically."
She struck him again, this time in his crack, that caused him to cry out in pain.
"I'll tell you another secret, John. Deep within our brains near the stem, the most primitive part of the brain - the reptilian mentality within us - lies the archetypes we're programmed with. The patterns or roles that we assume out of pure instinct. Within each of us lies the roles of master and slave. We have tried to cover up this dirty secret through layers of cortical tissue and thousands of years of human culture, but it is always there within us in our true selves. It all comes down to submitting or dominating. That is the essence of sex and of politics."
She flicked the riding crop quickly now, hitting him hard but still controlled.
"You're close to coming now, aren't you, John."
In spite of himself, it was true. He rubbing his cock against the sheets, seeking release.
She reached under him and grabbed his cock. He immediately started humping her hand.
"I thought so, John." she smiled. With a couple of firm strokes of her hand she made him explode in a violent orgasm. He pumped wads of semen into Hillary's hand in spasms.
She pulled out her hand and inspected it. She smiled and wiped it on the bedsheet.
"Now, do me, John." Hillary Rodham Clinton crawled up on the bed and stuck her pussy in his face. He immediately lapped at it hungrily. After a few minutes she came loudly, screaming his name.
She held his head and rubbed the back of his head tenderly for while. He felt ashamed of course, as he laid there spent and energyless. But there wasn't much he could have done tied up like that. He forced himself to concentrate on the restraint on his left hand.
Hillary got off the bed and reached in her black bag again. She pulled out a tube of something. He started feeling a sense of dread deep in his gut.
"Hillary, untie me. Let's just hold each other." he said warmly.
She ignored him.
"Just an ointment for your love wounds. You'll be sore otherwise in the morning."
She rubbed it into his burning ass. It did feel better. She careful traced each welt and applied the ointment with loving care.
He, then, felt her finger in his crack, gently rubbing. Hillary's finger found his anus and started rubbing there. It felt good and a warmth spread through his loins. She pushed slightly and met resistance.