The Body Politic
- 3 years ago
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Body Politic - 6 free porn video
Libby Manning didn’t leave me waiting long. I was bent over the sofa, my evening dress up around my waist. I felt the tip of her dildo pressing against my lips gently, her hands on my arse. She stroked my backside and ran her hands over me, up my flanks under the dress and held my hips as she entered me.
Slowly, she pushed into me, restraining me from pushing back onto her and millimeter by millimeter I could feel her deeper and deeper. When her hips were touching me she stopped and remained there, stroking my back under the dress then she bent over me and I felt her naked breasts against me and her hands coming under me to cup my breasts through the fabric.
“You are so good, Sam, so lovely.”
So, I thought, tonight she is the lover not the alpha female and I wiggled my arse a little to let her know how much I loved it. She was tender as she began slowly to rock her hips. Her hands moved from under me and I felt her pushing the straps of my dress down my shoulders until my breasts were uncovered and her hands came back to them, cupping them and rolling my nipples gently between her fingers. She bent further and kissed my neck, biting my flesh softly.
It was a surprise when she pulled out of me and lifted me, turned me. My dress fell to the floor and she led me to the front of the sofa where she sat and pulled me so I was straddling her, lowering myself onto the purple strapless dildo she loved so much. As I slipped down onto it, she pulled me to her, my arms around her and we kissed, a soft but hungry kiss.
“Ride me, Sam. You know how to make us both cum.”
And I did. My hips moved fore and back, side to side, in circles and our tongues danced. Her hands ran over my back, her lips over my neck and suddenly, beautifully, her head feel back on the sofa, eyes closed and she opened her mouth.
“Oh fuck but that’s so beautiful.” Her eyes opened. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Her eyes widened. “Don’t, don’t. Fuuuck.”
Her orgasm was muted but, I could tell, profound. She did that sometimes, no histrionics just deep, satisfying and almost noiseless. I kept grinding down onto her and as she recovered she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to keep going until I had climaxed too. The combination of the plug in my arse and her dildo brought me there only a few moments after her but mine was louder, wilder. I bellowed as I came and she held me tightly to her, kissing my face.
We stayed like that, me kneeling astride her, she sitting under me, her dildo deep inside me and she hugged me, stroking my back and kissing me intermittently.
As, later, we walked towards the bedroom, she licked my ear. “Go and take that plug out. Libby’s going to replace it.” She stroked the dildo still proud at her crotch.
o0o
I’d expected the scandal of the noxious, hypocritical Defence Secretary, Perry Cadbury and his adulterous relationship with the lovely Admiral Caroline Booth to be all over the papers the following morning but it wasn’t.
I got to my office at number 10 around 7.30 and had picked up a selection of papers along the way as I usually did but there was nothing about Cadbury in any of them.
Tony Riley, the Chief of Staff, was in his office so I took him a coffee and sat in one of his leather chairs around a small conference table as he sat across from me.
“Thanks for the coffee, Sam.”
“You’re welcome. Come on Riley, give. You can’t sit their with that self-satisfied grin on your face and not tell me what’s going on.”
He looked over my shoulder and suddenly stood. When I tuned to look to see what was going on, Sylvia Tenant, the Prime Minister was standing in the doorway. I stood too.
“You, Tony Riley are a bad, bad man.”
“Thank you, Prime Minister.”
I looked from one to the other, wondering what the hell was going on.
“Your boss, Mr Riley here has something of Machiavelli about him, Sam. Have you told her, Tony?”
“I thought she should hear it from you.”
She nodded. “At the dinner, last night, Tony advised me of the, er, activities of our Defence Secretary and the bold Admiral Booth. Cadbury is, as you know, one of my most ardent critics. He has openly complained of my liberalism towards, for example, our gay community, to abortion, to immorality generally. He leans farther to the right than Genghis Khan and would happily stab me in the back. He wouldn’t stab me in the front because he hasn’t got the nerve.”
She sat and a flunky miraculously arrived with coffee for her. “Thank you, Lindsay. So, to continue, when Tony apprised me of Cadbury’s association with Booth, he also suggested that we might do a little digging before we ensured that no hint of this potential scandal should leak unless and until we were absolutely sure we could drain it for every possible advantage.”
“And dig I did.” Tony was loving it. “It didn’t take long either.”
With something of a flourish he produced a photograph. It was a good picture, clear and unequivocal. If I’d been thinking clearly I’d have recognised a similarity to the scene in Libby’s sitting room the previous evening, me over the sofa and Libby behind me. The picture showed a figure, hands on a table and another behind, clearly engaged in congress. That it was Admiral Booth behind Perry Cadbury was something of a surprise. That she was in full dress uniform, including hat but excluding skirt was another. The strapon that was inches away from the seat of our nation’s defence was yet another. Three more photographs were produced with a similar flamboyance, each confirming the other.
“I think we can safely say,” said our Prime Minister, “that the Right Honourable Perry Cadbury, Privy Councilor, is fucked, wouldn’t you say, Sam?”
I was going to enquire as to the origin of the photos but Riley forestalled me. “Don’t ask, Sam. Suffice to say they are genuine and there are more.”
“So what happens now?”
“Ah, the right question.” Tenant was clearly loving all this. “And the question Riley here answered for me at about 5 am. We could, of course, leak this to the press and that was our initial plan but as Tony pointed out, they’d never publish the pictures, merely make a fuss about adultery and hypocrisy and shame both parties and probably mention ‘kinky sex.’ I think you’ll agree that that would be a tragic waste?”
I was speechless.
“I shall instruct Cadbury to attend here later this morning. I shall interview him. You and Moriarty here will be listening and then you will learn Tony’s master plan.”
She left. My mind hadn’t really processed all of this and Riley let me stew.
Back in my office I rang Libby and told her. “Fucking hell, it gets better and better. Call me when you know what’s happening.”
Tony Riley and I sat in a small side room off the PM’s office.
“Good morning, Perry, do take a seat. The reason I wanted to see you is that I think there is a problem, one that we need to address.”
“I do hope it’s nothing that jeopardises your ‘Britain for the 22nd Century’ initiative, Prime Minister?” Cadbury was dead against it.
“Happily not.”
“Is it a defence matter?”
“Obliquely, yes. You have been a vocal critic of mine and your reputation for integrity and values, family values in particular, adds weight to your criticism of me.” Oh, but she was enjoying herself.
“I have never tried to undermine you.”
“On the contrary, you have and had I been less fortunate in the outcomes of my policies you would have been far more successful. But, and here I come to the, er fundament, of the problem, I think you’re about to change your ways.”
“I shall always stick to my convictions, Prime Minister. My Christian faith guides me in speaking the truth, no matter how uncomfortable the result for me or,” he added nastily, “anyone else.”
“Ah, yes, your Christian faith. I am, as you know, an atheist and your constant references to your faith gets, to be frank, on my bloody nerves, the more so now that I realise it is all, frankly, cant.”
Cadbury reacted violently. “Can't? How dare you, Prime Minister?”
“I dare, Perry,” she said affably, “because I have evidence.”
She and Riley had planned the production of the photographs. The first was merely a picture of Caroline Booth that had been taken at the dinner.
“Caroline Booth is a fine officer,” said Tenant. “Her career, rising to be the first female Admiral is inspirational. She has all the virtues,” here she paused, “thrusting,” she stressed that word as she also stressed the next, “penetrating, driven, courageous, a fine leader. Would you agree, Perry.”
No answer. Then a photograph of the two of them standing in the window of her flat, both with glasses in their hands.
“Who took this photo? This is an attempt to make shameful accusations against...”
“Do be quiet, Perry. This is not an attempt to make shameful accusations, it is the exposing of hypocrisy. No doubt your faith would approve. Are you still a lay preacher at that pretty little church in your constituency?”
The next picture shut the blustering ass up completely. We heard his chair scrape back on the wooden floor and his voice seemed to come from a distance as if he had retreated from the desk. We later learned he had.
A silence reigned, one that Tenant did not seem willing to fill.
Eventually he spoke, “You will have my resignation immediately.”
“I don’t want it.”
“What?”
“You’re a prick, Perry, a useless gutless prick and I can expose you to the world as such. But as a trusted colleague,” here she paused again, “I wonder if you have any idea what trust is?” she mused. “My colleague suggested that to humiliate you would humiliate this government and I will not do that. At least, I wont do that unless you let me down.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to become the strongest advocate of ‘Britain for the 22nd Century.’ I want you to embrace it, to support it, to find ways that your Ministry,” she chuckled, “Both your Ministry of Defence and your Christian ministry are behind it. Spout about it to your flock. Rave about it in speeches. Find ways the defence budget can support it without being asked in Cabinet. In Cabinet, support me; support me always, vehemently, staunchly. This government has three more years before an election. At that election you will stand down. You will get no honours, no knighthood, no promotion to the Lords. You will disappear into obscurity and I shall never have to look at your disgusting person again.”
He spluttered something inaudible and she said, “Shut up. The choice is yours. ‘Yes, Prime Minister’ or the evidence goes to your lovely, unfortunate wife. A decision now would be a good idea.” A pause and then she spoke very softly. “But make no mistake, if it’s the wrong one you’ll be fucked far more comprehensively than the Admiral did it.”
Riley and I were beside ourselves with laughter. She, Tenant, is magnificent, formidable. He, Cadbury was indeed fucked.
Libby loved it. I had no qualms telling her because she, I knew, would tell nobody. Tenant had even said I could tell her.
“You know the odd thing about all this? I’d love to watch Caroline Booth fucking you.” Her grin was mischievous. “I’ve often thought she might be a dyke. Did the PM really say ‘thrusting?’”
“She did.”
“How simply wonderful. I’d have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that. Did she really have her uniform on?” I nodded. “Blissful.”
I opened my briefcase and took out the best picture.
“Oh, my God. How absolutely fucking perfect. The hat adds a touch of class don’t you think?”
Later, in bed, I lay on my back with my legs spread and knees bent as Libby fucked me. It ended in hilarious chaos when she started to sing ‘A Life on the Ocean Waves.”
o0o
The Prime Minister was going to one of our great naval ports to watch the commissioning of a new ship. I had to go with her and, of course, the Secretary for Defence, the ghastly Cadbury was sure to be there. So, too, it transpired, was the lovely Admiral Caroline Booth.
“I want you to have a word with the Admiral, Sam.”
“Me, why?”
“Because I want her to know we know without telling her myself. She’s important, she has influence in the military and we can’t fire her without firing Cadbury so she needs to be right onside, if you get my meaning?”
“Yes, repeat, no.”
“You’ll know what to say.” I wished that I shared her confidence.
It turned out to be much easier than I expected. There was, inevitably, a buffet on board the ship after the Queen had swung the bottle of champagne. She and her entourage left and the rest of us had to do the stand around and make pointless chatter thing. My chat, however, was going to be pointed.
“Admiral Booth?” She turned to look at me, a glass of something in her hand, her uniform perfect. She was much taller than I’d imagined. “I’m Sam Lovett.”
Her smile gave her the mien of a tiger viewing dinner. “The PM’s Deputy Chief of Staff. I’ve heard rather a lot about you.”
“As I have of you, Admiral.”
“You are, I believe, Libby Manning’s squeeze, no?”
“The PM asked me to speak to you.” You will notice I ignored her remark but it had raised my anger level rather considerably.
“Oh?”
“The Prime Minister thinks very highly of you.”
“It is not entirely reciprocated, Ms Lovett.”
“No, but it will be. What I was about to say was she thinks highly of you, or rather she did until a little while ago.” Her eyes narrowed. This was a lady whose survival instincts were well honed. “You may have noticed a slight change in the attitude of the Defence Secretary of late?”
“He is spineless.”
“Yes. He is also a hypocrite and, until recently, an outspoken critic of the PM. His change of heart has been remarkable.”
“Politicians simply want to keep their jobs. They are all self seeking and without principles.”
“Admiral Booth, I suggest you keep such thoughts to yourself. The PM has decided not to expose your affair with Cadbury for her own reasons. But she knows about it, the detail of it. Indeed there were some rather compromising images of it which you will be pleased have not been made public.”
“Are you blackmailing me?”
“Yes. You will support the PM, you will be her strongest advocate in military circles. You will, in fact, do whatever she asks. The pictures will never be released no matter what you do but you will lose your job if you fail to do as I have suggested. Are we clear?”
“I hope,” she hissed, “Manning fucks you to hell.”
“I suspect Perry Cadbury found you quite literally a pain in the arse.” I smiled sweetly. “Are we clear?”
She nodded curtly and turned abruptly away. The next time I saw her she was in discussion with the PM and seemed to be getting on extremely well with her.
o0o
We planned to go away during the summer recess. Libby decided she’d make it a surprise and it wasn’t until the morning of our flight that I found out we were going to St Lucia. She’d booked a seriously expensive hotel overlooking the sea and, I saw from the website that our suite had a sitting room, a large balcony, a huge bedroom and a large shower and bathroom.
I packed hastily and we got a cab to the airport. Because of Libby’s status we did not have to go through the usual formalities and, after champagne in the VIP suite we were led through to the first class compartment of our plane. There, in comfortable seats, we were served more champagne and wonderful food as the aircraft sped at 39,000 feet across the Atlantic.
I’d worn a pale yellow sundress with a white linen jacket for the flight, Libby had decided on light brown cut-offs and a white silk t shirt. She had a light linen shirt over it and looked simply gorgeous. We held hands all the way and exchanged a few kisses and, at one point, I felt her hand under my dress.
“Just checking you didn’t forget your knickers,” she whispered. “You know how forgetful you can be.”
On arrival we were met by a black limousine that purred us away to our hotel. It was, by then, 4pm and we checked in and went to our suite. While we waited for our bags we opened another bottle of champagne and went out onto our balcony to take in the spectacularly beautiful view.
I unpacked then we took a shower together and, now wearing only a silk sarong on my part and a short chinese robe on hers we sat on the balcony together and watched as the sun eased its way down toward the sea. The balcony was separated from its neighbour first by a translucent glass screen and, at the distant end, a low wooden gate.
We both were feeling tired from the travel by then so we went to bed and, after a very gentle love making, fell asleep.
The following morning I woke Libby with my tongue. She loves being woken that way and, understandably, I love doing it. She sometimes pretends to sleep through it but not that morning. She started with little moans of pleasure and then gripped my hair and held me to her as her knees lifted, her back arched and she let out a little cry of delight as she climaxed.
“Perfect way to start the day. Get that arse into the shower, Libby wants to wash it.”
My orgasm came in the shower as a soapy finger slipped into my bum. She’d been washing me, kissing me and licking me under the hot stream for a long time and kept holding me back from the brink until that magical finger took me over it. Bliss.
On our second evening we had an early dinner after spending most of the day on the beach. We chose the informal poolside restaurant and drank rum cocktails before a delicious crab salad and a bottle of crisp dry white wine. Then we repaired to our balcony and the inevitable glass of fizz.
“I have a little surprise for you.”
“You don’t think you’ve done enough?”
She smiled. “Well, perhaps but I don’t think you’re going to be disappointed.”
At that moment I caught, out of the corner of my eye a tall woman’s shadow through the frosted glass that separated our balcony from the next. A second, shorter shadow followed and then two familiar faces appeared at the gate between the two balconies. I shrieked, “My God, Babs! Delphine!”
Barbara had been my colleague and lover when first we worked for Tenant. Delphine, tall, black and utterly beautiful had been Libby’s lover. They’d both, independently, gone to the States but had ended up working together for a Congressman and had, rather inevitably, become lovers. And now, here they were. I was so stunned I had not thought for a moment that it had all been planned.
“Well, open the gate, dimwit.”
I opened it and they came onto our balcony, kissing me on their way and Libby as they took their seats.
“Lose the sarong, Sam and get Champagne for our guests.”
I dropped my sarong and as we all laughed and chattered I went to the sitting room and poured two more glasses and delivered them back to the others. Delphine was naked then, apart from a white micro skirt that hid nothing but served to accentuate her colour and her form. Her long legs were parted and her hair fell like a silk waterfall over her shoulders to her breasts. Babs and Libby were dressed as before, Babs in a white diaphanous robe that came to her mid thigh.
We talked and talked late into the evening. Libby looked at me. “Go with Barbara, Sam. Delphine and I will be along in a moment.”
Barbara took my hand, kissed me hard then led me from the balcony, through the sitting room and into the bedroom. We held each then, the familiarity of her hard body against mine raising my arousal.
Gently, she pushed me down to my knees and held my hair before guiding me to her beautiful vulva. It was like a reunion with yet another old friend. I remembered her shape, her taste. I also remembered her love of my tongue between her lips and soon there it was, working her, loving her as a good tongue should. I had to keep moving to stay there as she turned and sat on the bed, legs wide for me, hands still combing my hair.
“I turn my back for a few minutes!” Libby’s voice was all smiles. I tried to look up but Babs held me there.
Delphine spoke next, “Babs, I think something’s missing, don’t you?”
Barbara gently pushed me away and I looked over my shoulder. Between Libby’s thighs her blue feeldoe was visible, resting in the palm of her hand. She and Delphine were naked. Libby told me to stand up. I went to her and kissed her. Delphine kissed me too and when I looked over her shoulder, Babs was standing, naked now except for a purple strappy. My lips met Delphine’s again and then Libby was behind her and I knew she was going to fuck her. I wasn’t all that surprised when I felt Barbara behind me, her hands on my hips and her strapon pressing against my lips. Delphine and I had to bend a little as we were both entered, our mouths together, kissing and enjoying our lovers’ penetration. We stayed like that, the two Mistresses, for such they definitely were that night, sharing their women, taking us, enjoying us.
We moved to the bed and then I was face down, arse up as Libby entered me. My hand moved sideways and met Delphine’s as she, in similar position was mounted by Babs. I was close by now but Libby was having none of that. She slapped my arse, hard.
“Don’t you dare.”
Libby and Babs seemed to want to coordinate our orgasms and they controlled us and themselves until I heard Libby say, “Count of three, Barbara.”
Blaze
- 18.12.2022
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