Politics Ch. 08byhal_tee©
Chapter Eight: Entrapment
"Here, sit beside me," Erika invited Katie as the dark haired woman and Alistair came down for breakfast. Both looked showered and refreshed, but Erika knew better. When it came to sex, she had a keen eye, and these two had been up most of the night. Inside, she burned. Outwardly, though, she kept her face smooth, offering a pleasant smile. "The others have updated me on what's happened since yesterday, so I promise not to talk politics."
The psychiatrist returned the pleasantry nervously, slipping into the offered seat next to the stunning blonde. Thomas and Sally exchanged glances; even Alistair looked wary, but no one said anything.
Despite all that she knew about the blonde, Katie's first impression was a good one. The young woman was intimidating beautiful, her strong blue eyes possessing more confidence than many of the executives in her firm, but she couldn't help but want to like her.
"What are your early impressions?" Erika asked as Thomas poured coffee for the newly arrived diners. The blonde turned in her chair to face Katie, ignoring her ex-boyfriend to her right.
"Impressions…?" Katie asked, halting the flush that was threatening to crawl up her pale and slender neck. Her night with Alistair had left her mind tired, yet her body was invigorated. So much so that she'd joined Alistair in the shower and let him take her against the cool tile. Shifting, she felt her soreness—a reminder of what they'd done. It only stoked the fire that burned between her legs. She wanted—needed—more. Tonight couldn't come soon enough for her.
"Impressions of what? The psychiatrist felt dizzy with uncertainty. Impressions of fucking in the bathroom? The living room? The floor? Their bed?
"Yes, you know," Erika said sweetly. "The campaign. We've burst into life again after this O'Leary woman's lies were exposed. But that means everything is hurtling along at two hundred miles an hour. Hardly time to think. But with only another day before the election, every second is vital."
"I thought you weren't going to talk politics," Alistair dryly murmured.
Erika swung around to face him, her beaming smile not touching her eyes. "I'm not," she softly said, then turned back to Katie. "I'm simply asking how you're finding things. I know what a pain it can be to find yourself on the outside when everything's going on around you."
Katie nodded her understanding, wondering if there was a double meaning there. Her patients often took a more roundabout way when speaking to her and she couldn't help but analyse the blonde like one of them. Was Erika feeling like the woman on the outside now?
"No pain at all, really," she fibbed just a bit. She'd been feeling a little abandoned last night, but after their frantic fucking, she was much better. Since she'd awoken, she'd been dreading this meeting. Yet as Erika put her at ease with her sparkling blue eyes, she began to think she had nothing to worry about. "I had a good dinner with Thomas and Sally last night. Alistair was so busy that I didn't see him at all until quite late. But then I know how busy—"
"It'll be the same today," Erika interrupted, flashing a sympathetic smile. "I tried to create some time for the two of you after his appearance when I reviewed the itinerary. But with the success of the Newsnight interview, everyone wants to talk to Alistair. And it could make all the difference to the campaign."
"I know," Katie answered, sending a smile of support in Alistair's direction, when all she wanted to do was drag him back upstairs and lock him in. The thought of a full day mostly on her own, followed by another long evening like last night, wasn't an enticing prospect.
"Still," Erika said, waving a hand imperiously into the air. "I have something in mind for later that might save your sanity."
Katie's right eyebrow arched and her luminous brown eyes flickered. "Really…?"
"What?" Alistair asked, half leaning across her to make his voice heard. He didn't trust Erika an inch and was going to keep Katie as close to him as he could.
"Nothing you need to be concerned about," Erika told him, her body pulling away from his. She sent a wink at Katie. "Girl's stuff, that's all!"
It had been a long time since Becky had given herself the luxury of a lie in. Today, she gave in to the need. Despite the hectic recent pace, it wasn't so much her body that needed a rest. It was her mind.
With her head nestled into one pillow, she pulled the other across and snuggled it against her as she organized her thoughts. First and foremost, there was her new business. Since the TV news piece last night, she'd been inundated with calls. People who were wishing her good luck. Friends promising to introduce other friends to the studio. Other media, wanting more information.
If this pace kept up, she'd need her own PA to help run the business!
The early signs were brilliant. She'd have to call her parents later. Bring them up-to-date. They were already so excited for her.
Then there was Guus Kessen. In some ways, what she'd done with the Dutchman seemed a lifetime ago. It was surreal. A dream. Had she really sucked him off? Allowed the overweight millionaire to tit fuck her? The knowledge horrified her…
So why was there a growing warmth growing between her legs? He'd said he'd write the debt off if she let him fuck her. If that thought sickened her as much as she told herself it did, why did her heart skip a beat every time it came into her mind?
Thirty thousand was a lot of money. Even with the wonderful reaction to her opening, it would take a long time to repay. She could wipe it out with one, simple act…
She raised her head and then banged it back down on the soft pillow. "Argh!" she groaned into the empty room. It wasn't just the thought of fucking the businessman that appalled her. It was the fact she was considering it. The thought of being coerced into giving him her body was turning her on. What the fuck is wrong with you? she asked herself in Portuguese.
One hand found its way down between her thighs. Her heated skin was slippery to the touch. Balmy, like the hottest of days back home in Brazil. Where the fuck was her loyalty to Thomas? He didn't deserve this.
But Guus Kessen wasn't her only problem. What the hell had she allowed Pixie to do to her? Another woman!! If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the pink haired woman's hands on her. And not just the masseuse's. Erika's too.
Where the hell was that relationship going?
Becky giggled hysterically. She knew exactly where it was going. Erika was her good friend and she owed the Swedish woman so much. She wanted to give herself to her new friend. Pixie had lit the fire, but it was burning for the Swedish beauty. If she closed her eyes, she could feel the blonde's hands cupping her tits. Tweaking her nipples. Sliding down to…
God, when Erika had fingerfucked her, she'd cum so hard—
Once Thomas returned, she'd need a good talk with him. Not about what had happened with Erika, of course. Or what was going to happen between her and the Swede. That would have to remain her secret forever. But she needed to talk about them. For the last couple of weeks, they'd hardly seen one another.
He hadn't said anything about another job after the election, but when he'd accepted this post, they'd agreed it was short term. That was how it had been with Tony Blair, he'd said. It may have been, but his commitment to this Brinkley-Jones was hurting their relationship. If he found another position, it would have to be somewhere where they had time for one another.
It wasn't just him, of course.
She'd have to shape her time at the studio so that she could give him the attention she deserved. She'd call him tonight, at his Glasgow hotel, just to talk to him. Or maybe she should wait until he returned?
For now, she needed some relief. Her hand had been involuntarily softly stroking her wet lips throughout her thoughts. Her thighs tightened and relaxed. Her vulva ached with desire. Guus… Pixie… Erika…
Her body was burning. Her mind felt on fire. So very hot! When she felt like this in Brazil, she'd just go out and select a man to sate her needs. Here, it was completely different. Wasn't it? She had Thomas.
She pushed the pillow downwards, trapping it between her thighs. One hand pushed it into her sex. The other slid to her breasts, her bullet hard dark nipples rising to meet it. She savoured the firmness of her right bud as she pulled on it. Except in her imagination… they were Erika's slim fingers again, not hers.
Her other hand pushed the pillow more firmly around her. Her legs wrapped around it, trapping it like a man between her thighs. Or a woman? Oh, God!!
She could see Erika's eyes, the way they were at the Jacuzzi, staring into hers as she finger fucked her to orgasm. Her hips pushed up into the pillow. Her hand pressed it tighter. She could feel the soft material against her wet lips. Against her clit. She rubbed her curvy body against it, spreading her slick juices against the white cotton. She trapped it, held it. Her hips pumped upwards. She rocked faster.
"Yes… yes… yes…"
She pushed off the sheets, her naked body arching up from the bed. Her hands and her thoughts sent spears of fire through her body. Her moans danced across the room. Her hips rocked faster. Sweat formed on her brow. Her head jerked back and forth with her upward thrusts.
"Make me cum again…" she told the Erika in her mind, though she had no idea whether she was speaking in English or Portuguese. "Make me cum…"
She stiffened as the sexy blonde woman obeyed. The Swedish beauty smiled at her behind her eyelids, those playful, glimmering blue irises. Becky's dark brown eyes began to lose focus. They rolled upwards. Her body jerked.
When she came on the pillow, her mind soared like a straw in the wind.
Erika smiled at Alistair's attempts to keep Katie close. She knew him so well. It wasn't that he wanted her with him during the session. He just wanted to keep his new girlfriend out of Erika's clutches.
He was destined to fail.
The shoebox shaped City Hall in Candlelriggs was the home of the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra. The stage was large enough to accommodate a ninety strong orchestra, and the auditorium flexible enough to seat between one and two thousand guests. Two days ago, it seemed a ridiculous venue. Now, it was perfect to host the throngs wanting to hear the Conservative Party leader.
Erika waited until he'd personally ushered Katie into a seat at the front and returned to the stage. With perfect timing, she made her way along the aisle and seated herself next to the attractive psychiatrist. His look of horror when he turned to see her sitting there made her laugh. She gave him an arrogant wave.
"Handsome beggar, isn't he?" she asked Katie, nudging her arm.
The chestnut haired woman smiled. She seemed embarrassed at the comment, unsure how to respond.
"And cute, too. It was so nice of him to come to my room last night."
Katie's eyes shot wide. The flicker of shock on her face was impossible to disguise. "Your room…?"
"Yes, didn't he say?"
The dazed woman shook her head. "N… no…"
Erika laughed and playfully punched Katie on the arm. "Oh, don't worry," she told Katie, her voice soft and comforting. "I just gave him the kiss he wanted and then sent him on his way."
"Kiss…" It wasn't a question. It wasn't even a statement. It was just a stunned reaction from the confused psychiatrist.
"Yes," she softly murmured, dropping her hand to Katie's leg and running her fingertips along her thigh. It was a friendly gesture. Not sexual. Not yet. Katie had dressed conservatively, as if unsure what was required. Still, she wore her blue pinstripe power suit well. The long skirt was slit generously to mid thigh. It pulled against her shapely legs as she sat, revealing a hint of darkened stocking tops.
The sight made her tingle. Demure on the outside, sexy on the inside. Very promising.
"Oh, Katie," she continued with a knowing look. "You must know what he's like by now. He's such an outrageous flirt."
The dark haired woman was lost for words, struggling to take in what Erika was telling her. The Swede could read the thoughts going through her mind. So that was why he was late coming back to their suite. That was why he was so horny. After all he'd said about his ex-girlfriend, he'd gone to her first. To her room.
"He doesn't really mean anything by it," Erika explained, laying her hand flat on the woman's thigh as she turned further into her prey. She could feel the lace of her stocking tops. "Well, not unless he's had too much to drink. God knows how you stop him then. But listen, Katie, between us girls, he's yours now and I wouldn't do anything to interfere with that."
Erika loved the feeling of being fully in control. After the session, there'd be a round of formal press interviews, then photographs, immediately followed by a formal lunch. Alistair wouldn't get any sort of break. Her scheduling had seen to that. It left her plenty of opportunity to execute the second part of her plan. God, she was on form! Some days she felt invincible. This was one of them.
"I promise," she continued, applying the mental pressure. The older woman fell for it so easily. And this woman was a highly regarded psychiatrist? It was laughable. "Whatever he might try, Katie, you can trust me…"
Becky was luxuriating in the aftermath of her orgasm when her mobile rang. She'd ignored several calls already while she'd lain in bed. How lazy! But she had a rare free day today. Make the most of it, she'd told herself. Relax. Unwind.
She languidly reached out, her sweat covered breasts falling free from the bedclothes as she pulled the phone from the bedside table. Her heart stopped when she saw the caller ID. What should she do?
For some reason that she wouldn't admit, the Brazilian woman wanted to take the call.
She apprehensively raised the phone to her ear. Her chest heaved. Her breath quickened. Her recently satisfied sex began to tingle again. "Yes…"
"Rebecca, my dear," came the voice. The Dutch accent was unmistakeable. "How are you?"
"I'm… good… Guus…" she softly answered, drawing the sheet to her neck, as if he'd be able to see her uncovered breasts otherwise. She realised with a start that her nipples were pushing hard against the thin cotton.
Surely not simply as a result of hearing his voice?
"Pleased to hear it," the heavily accented voice murmured. "I heard about yesterday's opening. And I caught the piece on television. It seems that you're off to a wonderful start."
"Th… thankyou," she answered, idly brushing her fingers across her hard stomach. The pressure between her legs made her widen them again. What was wrong with her?
"So my money has been put to good use. You know you couldn't have achieved this without me?"
"And I paid you the way you wanted," she spat back, the light touch of her fingertips coming to a sudden halt on her soft skin.
"Yes, indeed," he answered without the trace of any embarrassment. "And as I recall, you carried out your duties extremely eagerly."
Deus! Was he ringing to gloat? The tingling between her legs increased. "Guus…"
She heard his soft laugh. "It's true," the pronounced Dutch accent drawled. "I mean, you were the one who sucked my cock at the end. Wanted my seed. You can't deny it, my dear…"
She should have been outraged. But whatever exasperation ran through her body, the excitement his words provoked outweighed it. Her fingers ran down her body and she began to stroke herself again. God, she was so wet!
"Guus," she hesitantly said. "I don't want this sort of conversation."
"No, I understand," he confidently murmured. "Even if your voice tells me something else. So let me get to the point…"
Yes, she thought, rubbing herself harder at the memory of their session together in his office. Please get to the point!
"My final offer. It won't last forever. Have you considered it?"
"Final offer?" The shockwaves hit her. One finger slid inside her labial lips. Then a second. They curled inside her, her thumb flicking her slippery button. It hardened and grew under her touch. Oh, God, her orgasm was beginning to bubble. She wasn't doing this. Was she? Masturbating to the sound of Guus Kessen's voice on the other end of the line?
His laugh was louder and longer this time. Self-confident. Arrogant. Patronising. It was as if Guus knew he wasn't saying anything she hadn't thought since then. She just hadn't wanted to admit to those thoughts. She hadn't betrayed her husband… she'd been coerced! Her blush increased. Her fingers took her closer.
"You know only too well," he responded. "A way to wipe out your debt."
Becky could hardly speak. Her breaths came in short gasps. The image of the Dutchman—inside her, fucking her—filled her mind. She began to breathe more heavily. Her middle finger rubbed up and down her wet opening. She tried to cling on to what Guus was saying but right at that moment she was preoccupied with the slippery bud of her clit.
"I need your answer," he told her. "By tonight."
The Brazilian woman couldn't disguise her gasp. "Tonight?"
Kessen's voice was firm. It was the tone he used for closing business deals when he held all the Aces. "Tonight. Or the offer is past its sell by date."
The phone clicked into silence. Becky's heart was beating so fast it threatened to burst through her chest. The enormity of Kessen's take-it-or-leave-it declaration seeped into her mind. Recollections of the Dutchman's cock as he titfucked her filled her mind. They were replaced by images of the overweight millionaire fucking her. She began to sweat at the thought.
Her legs widened. Her fingers began to move again. Harder, faster. She couldn't hold back. Her head thrashed as she fell off the cliff. Her perfectly sculptured ass cheeks lifted from the bed as her whimpering scream pierced the room.
Alistair had slowly risen to his feet, smiling confidently out into the auditorium as he ran a hand through his long hair. Taking his time, he removed his jacket and threw it onto the chair behind him. He pulled on his blue tie and unfastened the top button of his shirt.
"Get on with it!" came a Scottish accent from somewhere near the back of the hall.
Alistair waited until the laughter died down. "I'll do that," he said with a smile. And first, let me thank everyone who's taken the trouble to come along today. I know how hard people work up here, and how difficult times are."
"Aye, they are," came a shout to his left. "Bloody hard!"
Alistair nodded, silent for a moment while he thought.
"Lost for words?" someone else shouted, bringing another peal of laughter.
"No," the black politician responded with a smile. "It just seems to me that you'd rather exchange views than listen to a prepared speech. So why don't we do that? You ask whatever you want, and I'll try my best to answer."
The cheers and round of applause that ran around the large theatre told him it was a brave decision. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
"A lot of us canna work hard reet now, because we've lost out jobs," the first question came from the front of the room. The bearded Scot stood on his feet to shout out his point. "So what are you gonna do about it?"
"Great question," Alistair immediately responded, nodding at the man before glancing around the room. "Put your hands up, how many people here have lost their jobs in recent times?" he asked, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling the white shirtsleeves up his powerful black forearms.