Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
My thoughts exactly!... and it was all so authentic up to this point
Well? YES!!!!What do you take me for … some two-bit slut?
Last edited:
-
Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.
A Tale of Two Barbs: A Pirate Cay Adventure
- Thread starter Barbaria1
- Start date
My thoughts exactly!
Well? YES!!!!
For Moore
Limericks
It’s too bad nobody reads ‘em, Barb’s story’s the thing that feeds ‘em. It’s perfectly fine For our pearls-before-swine To fall on deaf ears. Who needs ‘em?!
www.cruxforums.com
7.
Three days later the confirmation of Barb’s appointment as Ambassador to the Commonwealth of Providencia was still languishing in the Senate, where a powerful southern Senator was holding up the process in committee. She’d spent two of those days sightseeing and trying hard to avoid any further carnal encounters with Leo McIntyre. This, she had done out of a mixture of guilt and repentance … guilt over having cheated on Roger and repentance in the sense that she wished to wash the guilt away by being loyal to her husband going forward.
Unfortunately, Leo was a hard man to avoid or deny. She wasn’t sure why he could get his way with her so easily. He was at least twenty years older, a declared womanizer, and more than a bit full of himself … all of which would have normally been a turn off for her. But, he was also quite handsome, stylish, mannered and powerful, not to mention the fact that he could let himself into her hotel room at will. And, sure enough, after two days he turned up in her room unannounced around midnight and crawled into bed with her.
She couldn’t remember how many times, and in how many ways, they had ‘done it’ that night. But what had surprised her was the fact that when he announced suddenly, after a particularly intense coupling, that he wanted to punish her for trying to avoid him over the past couple of days, she had actually liked being punished.
Not that it didn’t hurt like hell. It did! She was still sore that morning and sitting rather gingerly on her bottom while eating breakfast alongside him down in Edgar’s.
Her punishment had consisted of him ordering her out of bed to stand naked in the middle of her hotel room, bent over and gripping her ankles while he administered a dozen of what he referred to as “disciplinary strokes” with a big leather strap. And every time she let go of her ankles to straighten up and grab her flaming ass cheeks, he had announced that she would be required to endure an additional penalty stroke.
In the end, he gave her not twelve but nineteen!
And then, oddly, the sex they had after that was even more intense than the sex they had before. They had gone after one another with a wild abandon she never thought possible. The orgasms she had experienced after the strapping were so over the top … so unimaginably good … they simply couldn’t be described.
But this morning he was all business. He told her that her confirmation was still held up in the Senate and declared that it was high time they did something about it. Which meant he had invited Josh Handelman, the White House Deputy Chief of Staff and campaign political strategist to join them for breakfast. Tall and lanky, with a certain lovable boyish charm, she liked Josh immediately. As professional political organizers she and he spoke the same language.
Over waffles smothered in maple syrup, serious amounts of which ended up on his tie, Josh scoped out the current nomination situation for Leo and Barb. It turned out that the ‘hold up’ on her nomination was due to the machinations of one Senator, a Republican from Texas by the name of Mo Fink. Old Mo, according to Josh, was a ‘good old boy’ Southern politician who was always adept at creating procedural problems. He’d been in the Senate a very long time and could pull in enough favors to stop any nomination from ever getting out of committee.
“But why would he oppose an ambassadorial nomination to Providencia, of all places?” mused Leo. “No offense. Barb, but why would anyone care about an out of the way place like that?”
“Word has it, Leo, that Mo cares. I’ve checked into his travel logs. Seems he goes down there several times a year to visit a longtime pal … a mysterious billionaire friend who owns a whole island in Providencia called Pirate Cay.”
“So, he has a buddy down there. What has that to do with Barb’s nomination?”
“Maybe nothing more than he and his buddy don’t like Democrats. But I’m doing some checking.”
“That could take some time,” interjected Barb. “Isn’t there something we can do in the short term? Throw him a little home state pork, a photo op with the Prez, or something like that?”
“Well. I was coming to that,” replied Josh, signaling to the waitstaff for a refill on his coffee. “The Senator has a notorious eye for attractive-looking women. Congressional interns avoid him like the plague. They say no one gets on an elevator with him without being groped or pinched, or worse!”
“In this day and age?” remarked Barb incredulously.
“So here’s my suggestion,” continued Josh, slopping coffee on the table and mopping it up with his suit jacket sleeve. “We outfit Barb here in something very provocative … as revealing as possible … and send her up to the Hill to meet Mo personally in the hope that he might take one good look at her and decide it would be just fine and dandy to have a little piece of Yankee cotton candy down there in Providencia to look up whenever he pays a visit to his billionaire pal.
“I resent being likened to cotton candy!” exclaimed Barb indignantly. “Hello? What century is this?”
“You do look great in an itsy-bitsy string bikini,” grinned Leo.
Barb punched him hard on the shoulder.
“Am I missing something here?” asked Josh, eyeing the two of them quizzically.
Leo rolled his eyes.
Barb punched him again.
“Okay, we have a plan then,” concluded Josh. “I’ll phone Mo’s people and set up a meeting between him and Barb for later this afternoon. Leo, see if you can find her something suitably alluring to wear other than a string bikini, okay?”
“No problem. Josh. Barb and I will go up to her room right away to check and see what she has to wear that will fill the bill. I’ll have her model a few options for me, and if none of them suffices, I’ll have my Secret Service detail take her out shopping,”
Barb punched him a third time.
Three days later the confirmation of Barb’s appointment as Ambassador to the Commonwealth of Providencia was still languishing in the Senate, where a powerful southern Senator was holding up the process in committee. She’d spent two of those days sightseeing and trying hard to avoid any further carnal encounters with Leo McIntyre. This, she had done out of a mixture of guilt and repentance … guilt over having cheated on Roger and repentance in the sense that she wished to wash the guilt away by being loyal to her husband going forward.
Unfortunately, Leo was a hard man to avoid or deny. She wasn’t sure why he could get his way with her so easily. He was at least twenty years older, a declared womanizer, and more than a bit full of himself … all of which would have normally been a turn off for her. But, he was also quite handsome, stylish, mannered and powerful, not to mention the fact that he could let himself into her hotel room at will. And, sure enough, after two days he turned up in her room unannounced around midnight and crawled into bed with her.
She couldn’t remember how many times, and in how many ways, they had ‘done it’ that night. But what had surprised her was the fact that when he announced suddenly, after a particularly intense coupling, that he wanted to punish her for trying to avoid him over the past couple of days, she had actually liked being punished.
Not that it didn’t hurt like hell. It did! She was still sore that morning and sitting rather gingerly on her bottom while eating breakfast alongside him down in Edgar’s.
Her punishment had consisted of him ordering her out of bed to stand naked in the middle of her hotel room, bent over and gripping her ankles while he administered a dozen of what he referred to as “disciplinary strokes” with a big leather strap. And every time she let go of her ankles to straighten up and grab her flaming ass cheeks, he had announced that she would be required to endure an additional penalty stroke.
In the end, he gave her not twelve but nineteen!
And then, oddly, the sex they had after that was even more intense than the sex they had before. They had gone after one another with a wild abandon she never thought possible. The orgasms she had experienced after the strapping were so over the top … so unimaginably good … they simply couldn’t be described.
But this morning he was all business. He told her that her confirmation was still held up in the Senate and declared that it was high time they did something about it. Which meant he had invited Josh Handelman, the White House Deputy Chief of Staff and campaign political strategist to join them for breakfast. Tall and lanky, with a certain lovable boyish charm, she liked Josh immediately. As professional political organizers she and he spoke the same language.
Over waffles smothered in maple syrup, serious amounts of which ended up on his tie, Josh scoped out the current nomination situation for Leo and Barb. It turned out that the ‘hold up’ on her nomination was due to the machinations of one Senator, a Republican from Texas by the name of Mo Fink. Old Mo, according to Josh, was a ‘good old boy’ Southern politician who was always adept at creating procedural problems. He’d been in the Senate a very long time and could pull in enough favors to stop any nomination from ever getting out of committee.
“But why would he oppose an ambassadorial nomination to Providencia, of all places?” mused Leo. “No offense. Barb, but why would anyone care about an out of the way place like that?”
“Word has it, Leo, that Mo cares. I’ve checked into his travel logs. Seems he goes down there several times a year to visit a longtime pal … a mysterious billionaire friend who owns a whole island in Providencia called Pirate Cay.”
“So, he has a buddy down there. What has that to do with Barb’s nomination?”
“Maybe nothing more than he and his buddy don’t like Democrats. But I’m doing some checking.”
“That could take some time,” interjected Barb. “Isn’t there something we can do in the short term? Throw him a little home state pork, a photo op with the Prez, or something like that?”
“Well. I was coming to that,” replied Josh, signaling to the waitstaff for a refill on his coffee. “The Senator has a notorious eye for attractive-looking women. Congressional interns avoid him like the plague. They say no one gets on an elevator with him without being groped or pinched, or worse!”
“In this day and age?” remarked Barb incredulously.
“So here’s my suggestion,” continued Josh, slopping coffee on the table and mopping it up with his suit jacket sleeve. “We outfit Barb here in something very provocative … as revealing as possible … and send her up to the Hill to meet Mo personally in the hope that he might take one good look at her and decide it would be just fine and dandy to have a little piece of Yankee cotton candy down there in Providencia to look up whenever he pays a visit to his billionaire pal.
“I resent being likened to cotton candy!” exclaimed Barb indignantly. “Hello? What century is this?”
“You do look great in an itsy-bitsy string bikini,” grinned Leo.
Barb punched him hard on the shoulder.
“Am I missing something here?” asked Josh, eyeing the two of them quizzically.
Leo rolled his eyes.
Barb punched him again.
“Okay, we have a plan then,” concluded Josh. “I’ll phone Mo’s people and set up a meeting between him and Barb for later this afternoon. Leo, see if you can find her something suitably alluring to wear other than a string bikini, okay?”
“No problem. Josh. Barb and I will go up to her room right away to check and see what she has to wear that will fill the bill. I’ll have her model a few options for me, and if none of them suffices, I’ll have my Secret Service detail take her out shopping,”
Barb punched him a third time.
Barb seems to have marriage loyalty problems...
M
montycrusto
Guest
twonines
LIMERICUS
Definitely Four, although the third one is probably the most she will get to wear in Pirate Cay!View attachment 1064484
no…
View attachment 1064485
No..
View attachment 1064486
no…
View attachment 1064488
fuck yeah!!!
Wait, let me see that third one again..
See the look on my face? See the single word under the pic? That’s the look and the word I gave Roger on our wedding night when he said he’d like to start things off with a blowjob.
No..
M
montycrusto
Guest
Oh Barb…. Why do you think wedding dresses are white? It’s so that bridegroom-juice won’t show, of course!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Barb is such a naive traveler that she's never heard of a security chain.
Or maybe she wants Leo to cum in.
“You do look great in an itsy-bitsy string bikini,” grinned Leo.
"The lady doth protest too much, methinks"
windar
Teller of Tales
One has to wonder what he's doing back in Minnesota besides freezing his ass off...
By the way, for those who are enjoying Barb's writing (I am immensely) and wondering if I really have written any chapters, the answer is, yes, and they're coming soon, so you are all warned!
M
montycrusto
Guest
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Barb, barb down girl - what would Roger say
Careful Mo or this could all unravel very, very quickly ...
Oh Barb, if only you knew ...
yep, not working too hard at keeping her 'Rogering' to Roger ...
This is romping along, loving it and all of its authentic insight into the US political infrastructure
Very much influenced by the U.S. television drama series, “The West Wing”.This is romping along, loving it and all of its authentic insight into the US political infrastructure
M
montycrusto
Guest
This is a spin-off series called “The Barbecue Chicken Wing”Very much influenced by the U.S. television drama series, “The West Wing”.
Migoz2
Senator
Feels more like Veep to me!Very much influenced by the U.S. television drama series, “The West Wing”.
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
According to the New York Times, the government of Myanmar has used (in 2011) DVD's of 'The West Wing' to study 'how democracy works'.Very much influenced by the U.S. television drama series, “The West Wing”.
I fully recommend them this story too, for getting Moore insights about that matter!
windar
Teller of Tales
Perhaps, but for the upcoming parts of the story once we move to Providencia, they unfortunately already know how to abuse prisoners...According to the New York Times, the government of Myanmar has used (in 2011) DVD's of 'The West Wing' to study 'how democracy works'.
I fully recommend them this story too, for getting Moore insights about that matter!
8.
The Oval Office, late afternoon.
“Oh, one more thing before you leave, Leo … “
“Yes, Mr President?”
“How are things going with that ambassadorial nomination we promised to arrange for that nice little gal from Minnesota? What was her name?”
“Barbara …. Barbara Moore. I’m afraid her nomination is stalled in Committee. Old Mo Fink is doing his usual thing.”
“Can’t we do something about that?”
“I’ve put Josh Handelman on it, Mr President. He has a plan. Hopefully we’ll get the nomination out of Committee before the day is out.”
“Good. Josh knows his stuff. And I assume you’ve been keeping Ms Moore entertained in the meantime?”
“Indeed I have, Mr President.”
“Thought so. She is a looker! I assume that
by now you’ve added another beaver pelt to your trophy belt?”
“Well, Mr President, they’re harder to come by these days with so many women shaving or waxing them away. But, yeah, in Ms Moore’s case … it’s a neatly trimmed little landing strip. I found it adorable.”
“Hah! Well safe landings, Leo.”
“I do my best.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second, Leo. Just see that we get that nomination through for her soon, okay?”
“You can count on it, Mr. President.”
************
Office Suite of Senator Mo Fink, Dirksen Senate Office Building.
The Senator leaned back in his brushed cowhide chair and placed his polished Texas boots on the gleaming surface of his Texas mesquite desk. Mounted on the wall behind him was the tattered battle flag carried by the 5th Texas Infantry Regiment in the Battle of Antietam.
Lean and fit, with a mane of silver hair that made him look particularly distinguished, he was a presence in any setting, but particularly so in his office, which was arranged to awe any visitor. Before his desk were a pair of plain hardwood chairs that were purposely constructed to be a couple inches shorter than standard height, so that anyone sitting across from him would be at a slight but noticeable height disadvantage.
His secretary … a winsome young blonde in a tight skirt and sweater, had just handed him a dossier to read before his next appointment.
“Pour me a bourbon before you leave, honey,” he drawled. After she handed him his drink, he sent her off with a good smack on her behind.
Frowning slightly, he opened the dossier, which bore the label, ‘Presidential Nominee for the Vacant Post of Ambassador to the Commonwealth of Providencia’, with the subtitle, ‘Barbara Ann Moore’. This wasn’t the first time he had seen the dossier. As the Chair of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, he had a major say over the review of all pending ambassadorial nominations, and he had been sitting on this one for days.
But his staff had informed him that the White House was getting impatient on this one. Just that morning, Josh Handelman had called his office to arrange a face-to-face meeting with the nominee. He was going to have to meet with her soon. In fact, his secretary had just poked her head In to let him know that Ms Moore was in the outer office.
“Tell her to please wait … that I am taking an important phone call,“ he instructed.
Then he took a cellphone out of a desk drawer that he used only for calls to Pirate Cay.
“Pick up,” he muttered. Moments later the call went through.
“Hey, Mo. what’s up?”
“I’m calling about a little issue here. I have to make a decision about the next U.S. Ambassador to Providencia.”
“And there’s a problem with that?”
“Well, potentially. The White House has nominated a woman from Minnesota, of all places. Her politics are quite liberal, judging from her dossier. We were spoiled when the post was held by old Amos Blackmore, who turned a blind eye to everything so long as Big Fred kept him supplied with plenty of young women to screw.”
“Hmmm … Barbara Moore? No relation to … no … highly unlikely … Barbara and Moore … are both pretty common names. There must be thousands of them.”
“Yeah … no relation … I think it’s safe to assume.”
“Okay … well, let’s see, tell me what she looks like. I don’t suppose she’s a looker?”
“I don’t know. There’s no photo in her dossier, and I haven’t told my staff to check that out. But, I’ll find out soon. She’s here to see me and waiting in the outer office as we speak.”
“Well, look Mo. I trust your judgement on this. Meet with her and follow your instincts. If her political leanings are what you say they are she could be big trouble. But snubbing the new administration could be trouble too. It might be easier to … um … handle her … compromise her, if you know what I mean … than to provoke any scrutiny by the feds down here.”
“Right. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay.”
Rising from behind his desk, the Senator ambled over to the sideboard for another bourbon, returned to his desk, pressed the intercom button, and ordered his secretary to usher his visitor in.
The door swung open and he got his first look at Barbara Moore. And she was a looker. Sizing her up quickly, he noted that she was of medium height, brown-haired and brown-eyed. She wore her hair long, framing facial features that were both innocent and youthful, suggesting someone younger than the age he had seen given in her dossier, which he recalled as somewhere in the mid-thirties.
She wore a dark blue tailored suit, with a very short and tight skirt. Her shoes were high-heeled pumps, Her legs were shapely and well toned. One might describe her as leggy. She wore the jacket to her suit open, to reveal a semi-sheer chiffon top through which he could clearly see the inner curves of her breasts, which appeared to be braless.
(@Fossy)
Her manner displayed an air of confidence. She approached his desk with assuredness, walking right up to it, and leaning forward to extended her hand while saying brightly, “Hello Senator Fink. Such a pleasure to meet you! Thanks so much for seeing me.”
Shaking her hand and smiling, he couldn’t miss the fact that as she leaned forward her jacket parted wide enough to allow him a momentary but unobstructed view … through the light gossamer fabric of her top … of a lovely pair of tear-drop shaped breasts, graced by dark circles around pointy nipples.
“Pleased to meet you as well, Ms Moore. Do have a seat.”
His eyes were glued to her as she settled on one of the chairs and made an exaggerated show of crossing her legs. He couldn’t be sure, because he was offered only a fleeting glimpse, but he could have sworn she wasn’t wearing any panties.
He knew he was being played. He wasn’t born yesterday! And he found it amazing that Josh Handelman would stoop to this.
But she was a dish. There was no denying that. And his mind raced to what it might be like to see her stripped naked and strung up to be whipped, or bent over a frame for a good strapping, or lying on a bed with legs spread, coyly inviting him to fuck her brains out.
And right, then and there, he made a snap decision.
“Can I offer you a drink Ms Moore? I have here some of the best Kentucky bourbon ever produced.”
“Thank you, but no thanks. I generally don’t drink until after hours,” she replied with a titter and a recrossing of her legs.
This time he was sure of what he saw. The little bitch was flashing her pussy at him!
“Well, I can respect that,” he drawled. “So let’s get down to business shall we?”
“Of course.”
“I understand that you’re here about your ambassadorial nomination,” he continued, picking up and waving her dossier.
“Yes, Senator. I’ve been told there’s a problem.”
“Well, Ms Moore. … uh …. may I call you Barbara?”
“Call me Barb.”
“Well, Barb, I am pleased to tell you everything is ready to go. You can expect to be confirmed no later than tomorrow. I don’t know what held things up. I suspect one of my staffers made a mistake. When I find out who it was there’ll be hell to pay for her or him. You have my deepest apologies.
“Oh, Senator … may I call you Mo? I’m so relieved!”
“Of course, you can. Mo and Barb it is. By the way, you may not know it but I am a frequent visitor to Providencia. I have a dear friend down there who owns an entire island and is a marvelous host. It’s called Pirate Cay. There’s a big house, a great beach, a yacht, riding and walking trails, amazing food and marvelously staged evening entertainments … everything imaginable. I’d be honored to take you there as my guest at your earliest convenience and introduce you to him. In fact, it could be a great opportunity to really get to know the Prime Minister as well. He’s often a guest on Pirate Cay.”
“Oh, Mo. That sounds so intriguing! I’d love that. And getting to know the PM personally would be a big help to me as a new ambassador!”
“It’s a date, darlin’. Now if you’ll excuse me I have work to do.”
“Of course.”
“Let me escort you to the door.”
As she stood to leave, he slipped his hand around her back and placed it on her hip, then guided her across the floor. She opened the door herself, and he saw her through, but not before patting her gently but firmly on her butt.
She did not react, other than to bid him a cheery goodbye.
He returned to his desk, grabbed the cell phone and put through a second call to Pirate Cay.
“Yeah?”
“It’s me”
“Well, what’s the word?”
“She’s a dish, and I’ve invited her to Pirate Cay.”
The Oval Office, late afternoon.
“Oh, one more thing before you leave, Leo … “
“Yes, Mr President?”
“How are things going with that ambassadorial nomination we promised to arrange for that nice little gal from Minnesota? What was her name?”
“Barbara …. Barbara Moore. I’m afraid her nomination is stalled in Committee. Old Mo Fink is doing his usual thing.”
“Can’t we do something about that?”
“I’ve put Josh Handelman on it, Mr President. He has a plan. Hopefully we’ll get the nomination out of Committee before the day is out.”
“Good. Josh knows his stuff. And I assume you’ve been keeping Ms Moore entertained in the meantime?”
“Indeed I have, Mr President.”
“Thought so. She is a looker! I assume that
by now you’ve added another beaver pelt to your trophy belt?”
“Well, Mr President, they’re harder to come by these days with so many women shaving or waxing them away. But, yeah, in Ms Moore’s case … it’s a neatly trimmed little landing strip. I found it adorable.”
“Hah! Well safe landings, Leo.”
“I do my best.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second, Leo. Just see that we get that nomination through for her soon, okay?”
“You can count on it, Mr. President.”
************
Office Suite of Senator Mo Fink, Dirksen Senate Office Building.
The Senator leaned back in his brushed cowhide chair and placed his polished Texas boots on the gleaming surface of his Texas mesquite desk. Mounted on the wall behind him was the tattered battle flag carried by the 5th Texas Infantry Regiment in the Battle of Antietam.
Lean and fit, with a mane of silver hair that made him look particularly distinguished, he was a presence in any setting, but particularly so in his office, which was arranged to awe any visitor. Before his desk were a pair of plain hardwood chairs that were purposely constructed to be a couple inches shorter than standard height, so that anyone sitting across from him would be at a slight but noticeable height disadvantage.
His secretary … a winsome young blonde in a tight skirt and sweater, had just handed him a dossier to read before his next appointment.
“Pour me a bourbon before you leave, honey,” he drawled. After she handed him his drink, he sent her off with a good smack on her behind.
Frowning slightly, he opened the dossier, which bore the label, ‘Presidential Nominee for the Vacant Post of Ambassador to the Commonwealth of Providencia’, with the subtitle, ‘Barbara Ann Moore’. This wasn’t the first time he had seen the dossier. As the Chair of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, he had a major say over the review of all pending ambassadorial nominations, and he had been sitting on this one for days.
But his staff had informed him that the White House was getting impatient on this one. Just that morning, Josh Handelman had called his office to arrange a face-to-face meeting with the nominee. He was going to have to meet with her soon. In fact, his secretary had just poked her head In to let him know that Ms Moore was in the outer office.
“Tell her to please wait … that I am taking an important phone call,“ he instructed.
Then he took a cellphone out of a desk drawer that he used only for calls to Pirate Cay.
“Pick up,” he muttered. Moments later the call went through.
“Hey, Mo. what’s up?”
“I’m calling about a little issue here. I have to make a decision about the next U.S. Ambassador to Providencia.”
“And there’s a problem with that?”
“Well, potentially. The White House has nominated a woman from Minnesota, of all places. Her politics are quite liberal, judging from her dossier. We were spoiled when the post was held by old Amos Blackmore, who turned a blind eye to everything so long as Big Fred kept him supplied with plenty of young women to screw.”
“Hmmm … Barbara Moore? No relation to … no … highly unlikely … Barbara and Moore … are both pretty common names. There must be thousands of them.”
“Yeah … no relation … I think it’s safe to assume.”
“Okay … well, let’s see, tell me what she looks like. I don’t suppose she’s a looker?”
“I don’t know. There’s no photo in her dossier, and I haven’t told my staff to check that out. But, I’ll find out soon. She’s here to see me and waiting in the outer office as we speak.”
“Well, look Mo. I trust your judgement on this. Meet with her and follow your instincts. If her political leanings are what you say they are she could be big trouble. But snubbing the new administration could be trouble too. It might be easier to … um … handle her … compromise her, if you know what I mean … than to provoke any scrutiny by the feds down here.”
“Right. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay.”
Rising from behind his desk, the Senator ambled over to the sideboard for another bourbon, returned to his desk, pressed the intercom button, and ordered his secretary to usher his visitor in.
The door swung open and he got his first look at Barbara Moore. And she was a looker. Sizing her up quickly, he noted that she was of medium height, brown-haired and brown-eyed. She wore her hair long, framing facial features that were both innocent and youthful, suggesting someone younger than the age he had seen given in her dossier, which he recalled as somewhere in the mid-thirties.
She wore a dark blue tailored suit, with a very short and tight skirt. Her shoes were high-heeled pumps, Her legs were shapely and well toned. One might describe her as leggy. She wore the jacket to her suit open, to reveal a semi-sheer chiffon top through which he could clearly see the inner curves of her breasts, which appeared to be braless.
(@Fossy)Her manner displayed an air of confidence. She approached his desk with assuredness, walking right up to it, and leaning forward to extended her hand while saying brightly, “Hello Senator Fink. Such a pleasure to meet you! Thanks so much for seeing me.”
Shaking her hand and smiling, he couldn’t miss the fact that as she leaned forward her jacket parted wide enough to allow him a momentary but unobstructed view … through the light gossamer fabric of her top … of a lovely pair of tear-drop shaped breasts, graced by dark circles around pointy nipples.
“Pleased to meet you as well, Ms Moore. Do have a seat.”
His eyes were glued to her as she settled on one of the chairs and made an exaggerated show of crossing her legs. He couldn’t be sure, because he was offered only a fleeting glimpse, but he could have sworn she wasn’t wearing any panties.
He knew he was being played. He wasn’t born yesterday! And he found it amazing that Josh Handelman would stoop to this.
But she was a dish. There was no denying that. And his mind raced to what it might be like to see her stripped naked and strung up to be whipped, or bent over a frame for a good strapping, or lying on a bed with legs spread, coyly inviting him to fuck her brains out.
And right, then and there, he made a snap decision.
“Can I offer you a drink Ms Moore? I have here some of the best Kentucky bourbon ever produced.”
“Thank you, but no thanks. I generally don’t drink until after hours,” she replied with a titter and a recrossing of her legs.
This time he was sure of what he saw. The little bitch was flashing her pussy at him!
“Well, I can respect that,” he drawled. “So let’s get down to business shall we?”
“Of course.”
“I understand that you’re here about your ambassadorial nomination,” he continued, picking up and waving her dossier.
“Yes, Senator. I’ve been told there’s a problem.”
“Well, Ms Moore. … uh …. may I call you Barbara?”
“Call me Barb.”
“Well, Barb, I am pleased to tell you everything is ready to go. You can expect to be confirmed no later than tomorrow. I don’t know what held things up. I suspect one of my staffers made a mistake. When I find out who it was there’ll be hell to pay for her or him. You have my deepest apologies.
“Oh, Senator … may I call you Mo? I’m so relieved!”
“Of course, you can. Mo and Barb it is. By the way, you may not know it but I am a frequent visitor to Providencia. I have a dear friend down there who owns an entire island and is a marvelous host. It’s called Pirate Cay. There’s a big house, a great beach, a yacht, riding and walking trails, amazing food and marvelously staged evening entertainments … everything imaginable. I’d be honored to take you there as my guest at your earliest convenience and introduce you to him. In fact, it could be a great opportunity to really get to know the Prime Minister as well. He’s often a guest on Pirate Cay.”
“Oh, Mo. That sounds so intriguing! I’d love that. And getting to know the PM personally would be a big help to me as a new ambassador!”
“It’s a date, darlin’. Now if you’ll excuse me I have work to do.”
“Of course.”
“Let me escort you to the door.”
As she stood to leave, he slipped his hand around her back and placed it on her hip, then guided her across the floor. She opened the door herself, and he saw her through, but not before patting her gently but firmly on her butt.
She did not react, other than to bid him a cheery goodbye.
He returned to his desk, grabbed the cell phone and put through a second call to Pirate Cay.
“Yeah?”
“It’s me”
“Well, what’s the word?”
“She’s a dish, and I’ve invited her to Pirate Cay.”
Last edited: