Death of Lydia (BWWM ON HOLD)

7

●WARNING●

Sexual themes are displayed in this chapter

C H A P T E R 7 

WISHES GRANTED 

2018, Washington D.C, White House 

"Kneel " Heat, heat flooded through his veins, coiling around his cock; her voice triggering a distant memory. Those were the words that fled from her lips. Uncaring that the camera overhead pointed at the emblem where they were standing. She slipped off her blazer with such ease, underneath, her dress shirt being so form-fitting; he could see the curve of her bosom under the loose button.

"Kneel, Fitz"  her southern charm wrapped around his head as he kneeled longingly in front of her. He wanted this, he had wanted this for years before she ran off. 

"Lydia" He began. 

"Did I tell you to speak President?"  

The tone was mocking as the glint in her eyes hinted at her sadism, the overt need to humiliate and control men with power. He was willing, always willing, too willing concerning her. 

"No" 

"Then shut up"

In any other situation he would've been boiling with anger, he became the president of the Free World, The United States for that said reason, to never take orders from anyone. Yet here he was reduced to his knees, breathless, a form he loved. 

She was closer now, standing above him, his face almost nestled in between her thighs, drawing a lingering finger from the base of his neck to his brow. A light shiver, it ran through his body as he eased into her touch.

"What do you want me to do Fitz?"  

If he hadn't known better he would've identified the light curiousness that lingered in her tone.

"Use me" 

He had grown since they first met similarly to herself. He was bulky under his three-piece suit his nipples erect due to her constant caresses on his neck. His thighs bulged, straining against the tight-fitted dress pants. As a spiderman curl fell in the front of his face. Her body was traitorous as the sight in itself made her wet. She was supposed to instill discipline into the brat. It's the way he willing said "Use me", the way his voice dropped an octave lower. How his eyes were closed and his lips ajar to inhale his breath. How his cock was straining through his pants as her feet rubbed against the bulge that ached with need. The way his jaw clasped so tightly as she added more pressure with her foot.  

"Beg for it, Mr. President"

And that he did.

"Please Lydia, I'll be good. I'll be so good" He groaned eyes now open as she unbuttoned her shirt revealing her full breast and defined abdomen. He reveled in the sight, as a slight moan erupted from his throat when her heels pressed deeper on the tip of his shaft.