Shades of Shame (Semper Fi) (10 page)

“Right.  My type.  You really want to know my type?”  Leila settled back into her chair and sipped her drink.

“Yes Leila I think I’d be very interested in that information,” David smiled conspiratorially.

“I like a mature man, a little gray around the temples, and one that views his experience as an asset.  Someone who knows what they want, and isn’t afraid to do anything to get it.”  She watched him carefully to see his reaction.  Most people would have thought her words were too forward but David smiled slightly.  It was as if he expected those very words to flow from her shiny pink lips.

“Anything?”

“Anything.  But most of all, someone who could take me as their own, not afraid to objectify me, and use me as they wished.”

“Sounds pretty daring.  Not much of a romantic, are we?”

This was clearly a test
, she thought. 
This was his way of seeing if I’m serious.

“Not at all.  For one to be romantic, you must put more into lovemaking than I have the time or inclination for.  No, just give me the raw, carnal sex, and don’t hold back.  I like it…” she said with a whisper as she stood and approached him, “rough.”

The Senator cleared his throat, making a loud, obvious sound in order to convey not only his surprise, but his approval.  “I see where my son could fall short, now.  He’s just like his mother:  a hopeless romantic.”

Leila stood and walked around the back of his chair, trailing her hand across his chest and around his throat.  “I hadn’t seen Logan in years, Senator, but I understand he’s a good boy.  Good boys are nice, but they bore me.  If he knew what I was thinking right now, he’d be ashamed of both of us.”

“There are many shades of shame, my dear.  You just have to find the one you’re most comfortable with,” his breath became heavier with her closeness.

“Exactly.  And you, sir?”  Leila ran her fingers through his thick hair, pulling his head back and forcing his gaze to the ceiling.  Leaning into him and placing her lips next to his ear.  “What shade are you comfortable with?”

He let out a muffled laugh, faint, but audible enough to get his point across.  “I’m certain we could find a shade we’re both comfortable with.”

She licked the side of his neck and said, “Show me.”

He grabbed her wrist hard, pulling her around in front of him.  “Let’s see what we have to work with.  Turn around, and spread your legs.”

Leila did as instructed, spreading her legs as her heels dug into the carpet.  Her tight burgundy skirt rode up just enough to show the bottom of her ass, the firm, smooth cheeks with contrasting tan lines clearly visible to him as she bent over and placed her hands on the coffee table in front of her.  “Is this what you like, sir?”

His hands came down upon her cheeks.  Not hard, but firm enough to get her attention.  “You will not speak unless spoken to, understood?”

“Yes sir.”

He began to caress her ass, feeling the warm silky skin of left ass cheek.  Her legs were toned, somewhat muscular, and accented perfectly with her black pumps just high enough to be sexy without having that strip club look about them.  “Stick that ass up in the air!”

Leila complied, pushing her ass as high in the air as she could.  “Mmmm,” she moaned, unable to control herself.

David rose to his feet and stood beside her, admiring her beauty up close.  His hands slid across her back, pulling her blouse out from the top of her skirt.  Her thong was clearly visible now, and enticing as it was, David fought the urge to pull it tight.  Instead, he began a light slapping of her ass cheeks, slow and methodical.  Each stroke harder than the last, using his free hand to press her head down closer to the coffee table.  He kneaded her warm flesh as his strokes began to leave marks, harder and harder, evoking moans of pleasure from her with each slap.  Without warning, he grabbed the back of her hair and pulled her upright, pressing his body against her back.  “Am I on the right track, my dear?”

“Close, very close,” she whispered.  And through clenched teeth she said, “Take me.  Use me.  Make me your slut!”

The very word itself shot a warm feeling of power right through his crotch, forcing his hard on to strain against his trousers.  He pulled his tie from his neck and ordered her to stand with her hands behind her back.  He wrapped the tie around her head, cutting off her sight and forcing her to rely on her remaining senses.  He was by no means finished with her as he unbuttoned her blouse, pushing it off her shoulders and exposing her bra.  He traced his fingers across the expansive cups, paying particular note to her nipples pressing against the fabric.  “Nice,” he commented as he sized her up.  He stepped back, and ordered her to strip.  She complied, making short work of her bra and skirt, leaving her down to her thong and a wicked smile.

“Remove the thong, and sit back on the table.”  She awkwardly pushed her thong down her legs, stepped out of them and felt behind her for the coffee table.  She sat down, pushing the magazines and paper on the floor.  “Spread your legs.  Show me that wonderful pussy, slut.”

Leila leaned back against the coffee table, pulling her feet up to the edge and spreading her legs.  She ran her fingers down, spreading herself for his approval.  “Like this, sir?”

“Exactly.  Now, tell me, slut, is this how you rub yourself at home?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And how often do you do this?”

“I dunno…”

“Yes you do!  Answer me, bitch!  How often?”

“Everyday, sir.”

“And have you done it today?”

“No, sir.”

“Well begin.  Show me how you pleasure yourself!”

David sat back, leaning against the couch as he adjusted himself.  He watched her legs spread wide as she lightly rubbed her fingertips across her clit.  Her fingers glistened as she plunged two fingers deep inside, pressing her palm hard against her mound.  Her other hand now cupping her breasts, rolling the nipple between her forefinger and thumb.  Moans of pleasure escaped her lips as the thought of putting on this show made her wetter by the moment.

“What do you think about when you masturbate?” David asked, pressing his drink to his lips.

“Being forced to please, sir.  Forced to submit to someone else’s desires, someone who isn’t afraid to use me!”  Her voice was strained as she moaned, nearing her orgasm.

“Are you going to come for me, slut?  Or do I have to wait all night?”

“I’m coming, sir.”  Leila could feel herself nearing her orgasm, and his commanding voice pushed her over the edge as she came hard upon her fingers.

As soon as the waves of pleasure passed, David stood and wasted no time getting her off the coffee table.  “On your fuckin’ knees, slut!”

The words alone meant nothing, but the urgent need she found in his low, guttural voice flooded her senses with adrenaline as she dropped to her knees, her face now right in front of his crotch.  He grabbed her hair with his left hand while he unzipped his pants, pulling himself out for her.  She instinctively opened her mouth, begging to have him force his way past her lips.  He did not disappoint, and held her head tightly as he rammed his thick cock deeper and deeper down her throat, cutting off all possibility of breathing.  She didn’t care if choked to death on it.  The act alone resumed the flow of juices between her legs as he repeatedly fucked her face.

He finally pulled her off his cock as she struggled to breathe through her nose.  David ripped the tie from around her head.  “Look at me, slut.”  She looked up at him as he stroked his cock towards her face.  “Open that fuckin’ mouth!”  She once again complied as he stroked his orgasm into her open mouth, covering her lips and cheeks.  She reached for her cheek with her hand only to have it swatted away at the last moment.  “Don’t you dare, you little slut.  You clean yourself up on your own time.”

David put himself back in his trousers, and picked up her blouse to wipe his brow.  She was motionless, still on her knees and covered in his come.  He threw the blouse at her head and said, “Go on home and get cleaned up.  That’s all for tonight!”  With that he left the room.

She cleaned herself up the best she could in his private office bathroom and caught a taxi back to her condo.  The entire ride she fought the urge to touch herself. 
No, it will have to wait,
she thought.  But once she got home she went straight to bed, stripping every stitch of clothing off and leaving a trail of her clothes across her room.  She lay down and reached under her pillow to retrieve her trusted vibrator, turned it on low, and carefully placed just the tip inside her lips and leaned the body of it against her clit and closed her eyes.  She spent the next few hours reliving every moment of being with David in her mind, over and over again.  She lost count how many times she came, but she slept like a baby through the night… satisfied that she was now making progress.

The Walk of Shame

It had been almost a week since she’d last seen David alone.  She’d spoken with Logan every night on the phone; his sweetness hadn’t diminished in her thoughts.  But since David had taken her in his office she could think of nothing else.  The play of power drove her imagination wild.  She knew he’d be back in the office this afternoon, and she scrambled to find a reason to get near him.  She’d chosen spiked heels with black stockings and a garter today beneath her skirt, just to get his attention.  A few snap and bends throughout the afternoon would insure that she would be staying late tonight.

Her plan was simple enough, and for the most part went off without a hitch.  She scribbled her note on a blank piece of paper and slid it into the brown folder.  With that she took a deep breath and made her way through the maze of office desks to his door.  His secretary asked if he was expecting her, which of course he wasn’t.  “Just need his signature on this petition from District 2.”

“Just leave it, honey.  I’ll get him to sign it when he’s free.”

Leila hesitated to give the folder to her, and scanned her brain for some excuse to keep it.  Just as she was sure her goose was cooked when her mother opened the door and came bursting out.

“Leila!” she said, acting surprised.  “Perfect.  You’ll do.”

“What?”

“The Senator needs someone to take notes during his phone conference with the union presidents.”

Leila looked inside the office and David’s eyes opened wide.  He waved them both in.  “Come on Patricia, the call is starting in five minutes!  Bring Leila!”

Leila clutched the folder to her chest and followed her mother into the office.  Patricia handed her daughter a legal pad and a pen.  Just write down the key points, that’s all we need.  I don’t need anyone’s dissertation about what they think about how we’re handling this.

Leila sat down in the leather chair across from the Senator, the same one she’d spread her legs for him in last week.  Again she teetered on danger as she crossed her legs exotically in front of him.  Her mother paced through the room as the call began.  Leila began jotting down the important points between the worker’s wishes and what the government was actually willing to offer them.  She was astounded again at the lackadaisical effort the government made to concede.  The less they offered, the more threatening the workers became.  By the time the call was finished even Leila was disgusted with politicians.  She debated giving the Senator her note at all.

She stood and stretched her legs as the Senator finished up the call with the necessary niceties.  His eyes followed her every move as she pulled her hands above her head and stretched her arms.  Finally Leila stepped forward to the Senator’s desk as Patricia walked towards the windows and peered out into the street.  “Is there something else, Leila?”

“Just need the Senator’s signature,” she said, leaning over the desk and opening the folder.

He grabbed his pen and pulled his glasses down his nose, while still on the phone.  Reading the hand scribbled note carefully, before signing the document.  He smiled as he read the words silently: 
Make me your slut tonight?  10:30 p.m. – The ‘Den of Sin’.  Big surprise!

She quickly closed the folder and marched out of the room.  Patricia waved to his secretary to close the door.

“Don’t even think about it, David,” Patricia started as he ended the phone call.

“What?”

“You know damn well what.  You may be fuckin’ around with these other interns, but you stay away from Leila!”

David shook his head as he furrowed his eyebrows.  “Get real, Patricia.  Her father was my best friend!  I would never.”

“Yes you would, you son of a bitch.  But I’m fucking warning you, stay away from her.”

“Why Patricia, is this jealousy raising its ugly head?”

“I’m not fuckin’ kidding you, asshole.  You stay the fuck away from her.”

David reached up and grabbed her waist, pulling her close to him.  He squeezed her ass and said, “Honey, you have nothing to worry about.  How about having dinner with me tonight?”

“I told you no, and I meant it.  Your stupid flirts may work on twenty year olds, but I’ve been around the block enough to know that your pecker is worn the fuck out.  I prefer my rubber to that poisoned thing, besides this isn’t about anything other than Leila.  I don’t care who you screw as long as it’s not her!”

“Dinner?” David said issuing his best ‘forgive me’ smile.

“We’ll see.  Probably be working late anyway.”

“That’s my girl,” David said.

“Just shut up, asshole,” she replied, a smirk now invading that stone facade she kept on her face around the office.

David shook his head and looked at his watch.  “Last chance, Patricia.  Bring that beautiful body over to me.”

“Unbelievable,” she said.  “You have no shame, do you?”

“Everybody has some shame, my Dear.  Everybody.”

David was already waiting in the Hill condo when he heard her tap lightly against the heavy wooden door.  He’d decorated this property himself and was proud of the sleek lines and manliness it exuded.  Leila stepped inside silently as he pulled the door open and closed it tight behind her, carefully locking the deadbolt.