The President's Wife - Kathy Myme Page 0,8

stared into her tawny brown eyes, my hand would make its way up until it was resting on her inner thigh.

She’d bite her lip.

I’d inch closer.

And then I’d kiss her. Hard. She would buckle under me, moaning in pleasure as I’d kiss her neck. My hand would slide further up her skirt, while the other made its way inside her blouse.

Then, as I felt her wetness seeping through her panties, I’d pull off her top, and smoothly remove her bra. Those two, glorious breasts would be mine, and I would worship them with my mouth.

She would moan for me, and beg for me, and only when I couldn’t resist any further would I take her. I would fuck her right her on the couch, thrusting hard and deep until-

There’s a knock at the door and it opens.

I practically shoot to my feet. “Hello?”

“Mr President, I - ah.” It’s Mr Andrews. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s no bother, I was just changing my shirt after spilling a little…” And then I see her, behind him. The intern that spilt coffee on me. The intern I’ve spent the last five minutes fantasizing about fucking the brains out of. The intern who has me half hard right now. I almost blush. “Coffee. Just a minute.”

I quickly turn, hoping neither notice the slight protrusion in my pants.

Get it together, I think, as I quickly slide on a new shirt and button it up. I need to be professional.

As I button the last button, I take a deep breath.

“Sorry about that,” I say with a smile. “Now, how can I help you?”

Out of that skirt, maybe? No, I can’t get distracted, especially not in front of Mr Andrews. I don’t need it spread around that I am getting all hot and bothered by the new intern.

“Mr President, I’d like you to meet my new intern, Veronica,” Mr Andrews says, gently nudging her forward.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, stretching out my hand for her to shake. “It’s always good to meet the bright, new faces our internship program brings in.”

She pauses for a moment, hesitant. Then she takes my hand. “Nice to meet you Mr President. I look forward to serving under you. Or rather, for your administration.”

My heart skips a beat. Serving under me? If only she knew just how much I want... no, need her under me.

I cough and frown slightly. “So, Mr Andrews, have you got the focus group feedback on that project I wanted?”

He nods. “I can get the report to you once I’m back in my office, but the general gist is that…”

As he continues to talk I struggle to pay attention. Instead, I find my eyes wandering down to the coffee stain on Veronica’s shirt.

Veronica. It’s a good name, a name I could almost imagine moaning in pleasure. Veronica.

Then I realize I’ve been staring at her breasts for the last few seconds. I quickly dart my eyes up and away. Oh god, I hope neither of them noticed. If Mr Andrews has seen me leering at his rather well-endowed intern’s breasts, I imagine he won’t be too keen on bringing her along next time.

And if she’s noticed… I wonder what she would think? I glance back at her tawny brown eyes, but she’s looking down at her feet.

What is she thinking right now? Can she feel the heat between us? Do I even want her to?

Mr Andrews finishes speaking.

“That sounds good, I look forward to the full report,” I say, barely cognizant of what I’m agreeing to. “If that’s all, I have a meeting I need to head to.”

“Have a good afternoon,” Mr Andrews says. “Come on Veronica, the tour’s not over yet.”

“Afternoon.”

I watch Veronica walk towards the door. Her heels are doing wonders for her ass, which is round and firm under the tight skirt she’s wearing.

I close my eyes, unable to watch any more.

“And Veronica,” I say, wanting one last look. She turns and looks me dead in the eye as I continue. “Welcome to the White House.”

I stare, petrified in lustful awe, as her eyes flicker. “Thank you, sir. It was nice to formally meet you.”

She leaves and I let out a breath. I didn’t even realize I was holding it, I’m that distracted. Veronica. Oh, I could tell by that look, there’s something there. If it wasn’t for this job, this responsibility, she would be mine. And somehow, whether she knows it or not, she wants the same.

Veronica

If you’d asked me before yesterday, I