She had laced her fingers into my hair. I could feel her fingertips lightly graze my scalp. She was careful to place no pressure that might change my course except for the times I would bury my face in her. In each of those brief moments she would spread her legs completely wide open and pull my head into her. Each time I retreated she would exhale sharply once or twice before relaxing and again becoming lost in the pleasure of my tipped tongue. I detected a need for a change when she began to draw her fingertips lightly upward through my hair. I gladly followed that lead and moved upward to probe gingerly with the hard stretched tip of my tongue at the button of her clitoris. Every time I hit it she would jump a bit, so while at first I teased around it as much as not, I could not for long resist the temptation to assault it again and again to give her that joyful little jolt. Finally I began to flutter the tip of my tongue at the little button. That’s when I could tell that she was. He slid his arms around her waist, resting his hands on her firm, round buttocks, and kissed her painted lips. Being the most powerful man on the planet definitely had its perks.Giggling, she pulled away from him."Drink?" she said."Why not?" he replied, stripping off his dressing gown and pajama top and dropping onto the bed. "What's your name, honey?" Marcie, Mr. President." she replied, handing him the drink she had poured. He slugged it back, and then watched appreciatively as Marcie stripped for him, slowly peeling off that spray-on dress and revealing her underwear. He approved of sexy underwear on a woman, and this was certainly that. Smiling wickedly, she climbed on top of him, slowly gyrating and running her hands down his chest."Mmmm, that feels nice," he said, yawning."Feeling tired, Mr. President?" 'S been a long day," he said, letting out another long yawn, "but this is the best stress reliever known to man."He yawned again as his eyes drooped shut. Within another minute.
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