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The Great Man’s Wife free porn video
Robin sat staring cynically at the photograph that took up most of the front page of the newspaper. ‘He Wins a Second Term,’ screamed the headlines. Every newspaper, every news outlet in the country was carrying that nice domestic scene, The Great Man and his family standing on a dais, all smiles, hugs and kisses, united in his victory.
‘My God, if only the public knew what went on behind that façade of family harmony,’ he thought.
He had known The Great Man’s wife Jemima since his childhood. His parents being members of the power elite they had known Jemima’s family and he had often spent time at their various residences, country and city.
Throughout his childhood and early manhood he had learned of the wheeling and dealing of the of the powerful, and had not been surprised when the gorgeous Jemima had married The Great Man, who at that time was not quite The Great Man, but looked set fair to become so.
At the time of the marriage the media had fed the public with the line that, ‘This is the love match of the century.’ Those who were in the know understood that the marriage was something less than a ‘love match’ and more of a political deal.
Jemima would be the lovely wife of the handsome and dynamic Great Man, thus she would bring her family even closer to the centre of power and the political influence and the economic spin-offs that would accrue from the union.
For The Great Man Jemima would become part of his carefully crafted image, her beauty adding to his prestige, giving him the advantage of appearing as the devoted husband, and in due course father, a picture so dear to the voters.
Robin did not doubt that Jemima had known what the deal was. If she hadn’t then she soon found out. The Great Man made no attempt to keep from her what his minders hid from the public, that he was a womaniser of vast appetite.
Jemima produced three children in quick succession. Like Caesar’s wife she had to be, or appear to be, above reproach. Whether or not Jemima had any sexual transgressions to be covered up, Robin did not know.
Now there it was, a picture of family devotion as The Great Man, holding Jemima’s hand and with his children and Jemima gazing at him adoringly, he smiled for the camera as he had so often done before.
As a member of a powerful family Robin was part of The Great Man’s social circle, or more accurately, Jemima’s. She was a few years older than him, but at those weekend parties during his childhood he had got to know her quite well, and in his teen years he had even fancied himself to be in love with her. But Jemima had come under the gaze of The Great Man, or more to the point, his father, who saw advantage in the union of the two families.
For all that he was often sickened by the devious, wheeling and dealing world he lived and moved in, Robin still received and accepted invitations to attend The Great Man and Jemima at their country house ‘The Retreat’ and occasionally at ‘The Lodge,’ their official residence in the capital, slightly misnamed since its size more nearly resembled a palace.
He went more as the guest of Jemima than of The Great Man and he had received just such an invitation for the following weekend. This was to be a follow-up celebration among what were called ‘Friends’ for The Great Man’s electoral victory.
Looking back at the picture for a moment he felt sorry for Jemima. He remembered the lovely and lively girl of his youth who had now become a puppet simpering for the media. Then he mentally shrugged, ‘She knew what the score was and even given family pressure she could have said ‘no’.’ Then he thought self-mockingly about his own situation, ‘I suppose I could say ‘no’ too.’
He did not drive himself to The Retreat, but was collected by a chauffeured limousine, the driver undoubtedly being one of the many agents whose task it was to guard The Great Man.
As they approached The Retreat, but still a couple of kilometres from it, they were stopped at a boom gate manned by some uniformed men carrying sub-machine guns. A razor wire fence extended out on either side of the gate to disappear in the distance. He could see another uniformed man with a large dog patrolling along the fence.
He was inspected, his invitation that also served as a pass was examine carefully, the chauffer gave a nod when one of the guards glanced at him, the boom gate was lifted and they drove on.
Within sight of the house they came to another boom gate with its guards. There was another inspection and they were waved on.
The car pulled up in front of the huge portico and the car door was opened by a man in a dark suit. He was to see many men in dark suits, their jackets carefully tailored to conceal the holster with its automatic pistol.
He was not greeted by The Great Man but by Jemima. This was the case on all his visits, since he was deemed to be her guest. She came down the steps to greet him. She was about thirty three or four and still looked incredibly beautiful. He wondered why, having such a lovely wife, The Great Man found it necessary to seek his sexual gratifications elsewhere. But of course, that was what the public also thought, and since they did not know of his philandering they thought all must be well in The Great Man’s marital bed.
Jemima smiled at him, displaying to considerable advantage what was truly a triumph for the art of modern dentistry. He remembered she had slightly crooked teeth in childhood.
She came to him, and not so much shaking his hand, but taking it in hers, and saying, ‘It’s lovely to see you, Robin.’ Then she planted a virtuous kiss on his cheek. Robin wondered if there was a camera somewhere, and that next day there would be pictures proclaiming, ‘The Great Man’s wife greets guest.’
Whether that was true on not, he knew for certain there were cameras following every move he made, he had always had a suspicion that there were even hidden cameras in the bedrooms, or at least listening devices.
Two dark suits had taken his luggage from the car and were going up the steps to the house. Robin and Jemima followed, she still holding his hand. This was an unusual touch, and he wondered what, during the weekend, he was going to be asked to persuade his father to do when he got back home. ‘It must be something out of the ordinary,’ he thought, because normally the contact between his father and The Great Man would have been direct.
In the huge foyer Jemima let go of his hand and said very quietly, ‘We must have a private talk later, Robin.’ With that she wafted away leaving the faint fragrance of expensive perfume behind her.
‘Ah,’ he thought, ‘so she’s been briefed to approach me for whatever they want.’
The dark suits had started to ascend the wide marble curving stairs to the first floor. He followed them along a corridor, and after passing part-way along it, one of them opened a door and then stood back.
‘Your room, sir, the servants will be along soon to unpack for you.’
‘Thanks.’ He entered the room. It was large light and airy with windows extending its full width and a large bed. He knew the routine. You never unpacked your self, this was the task of ‘servants’ who were attractive women but clearly the female equivalents of the dark suits. It was their task to surreptitiously and carefully examine each item as they stowed it away.
‘There are drinks in the library, sir,’ a dark suit said. He knew this was what was expected. He was to go to the library while the luggage search was carried out.
Robin somewhat grimly smiled his thanks and made his way to the library, a vast room lined with books that looked as if their red and gold jackets had never been touched.
A dark suit stood behind a bar. He was not actually wearing a dark suit but the black trousers and white shirt of a barman, but everything about him shouted ‘dark suit.’ He was dispensing drinks to the small group that h
ad gathered there, some of whom Robin recognised as power brokers. Among them were some very attractive young women.
The dark suit barman asked, ‘Can I get you something, sir?’
Robin decided that he had best keep his wits about him and ordered a soft drink. He had just been handed his drink when in came The Great Man accompanied by Jemima. He paused for a moment flashing his well known smile that rivalled Jemima’s in dental artistry.
He passed among the guests shaking hands and making hearty comments until he came to Robin. He looked puzzled for a moment, then recovering he extended his hand saying, ‘It’s great to see you again…er…’
‘Robin Milton,’ whispered Jemima.
‘Robin Milton! Carl Milton’s boy.’
‘He has been here before,’ Jemima whispered again.
‘Yes…yes…of course, I remember now. How is your father?’
‘Very well thank you, sir,’ replied Robin.
‘Good…good, well, enjoy yourself.’ He passed on.
‘If he can’t remember who I am,’ thought Robin, ‘it probably isn’t him who wants something from me.’
Addressing the company in general The Great Man said, ‘I’ll see you all at dinner this evening.’ He gave his well known hearty chuckle and went on, ‘Must leave you now, some affairs of state.’ He glanced at the barman and left. The barman said something to one of the girls and she made her way out of the room.
Jemima remained behind briefly and came to Robin.
‘Robin darling, I want to have a talk with you, perhaps after dinner this evening, my study, you know where it is?’
Robin had never been to her study but thought he vaguely remembered where it was so he nodded. Jemima smiled and left.
He decided that the servants had been given sufficient time to search his luggage so he went back to his room to contemplate what might be afoot and eventually change for dinner.
‘Changing’ did not mean what it usually meant in the orbit of The Great Man. One of the features of The Retreat was what passed for informality and relaxation. One appeared at dinner not in a formal dinner suit, but carefully tailored casual clothes. Most, including The Great One, opted for the cattleman image.
Robin, ever the individualist, took on a look that was somewhere between a nineteenth century gold miner and a nineteen sixties street demonstrator. This sartorial deviation from the norm warranted careful consideration by the dark suits and those dark suits that were dressed like waiters.
The meal was designed to look as if it had been prepared by a cattle mustering cook at the end of a hard days cattle drive, instead of highly paid chefs in kitchens that had every modern cooking device known to humanity, and some devices that weren’t.
The Great Man sat at one end of the long table and Jemima at the other. Apart from eating, the main purpose of the meal seemed to be to laugh at The Great Man’s jokes and agree with his comments on the national and international situation, all the comments being carefully prepared by aides who had briefed him well in advance.
Those seated at the greatest distance from The Great Man couldn’t always hear his jokes and comments, but took their cue from those who could, their laughter and ‘Your right, sir,’ lagging a few seconds after those near The Great Man.
Robin was seated near Jemima and therefore at a great distance from The Great Man. He frequently failed to respond on cue since a lot of the time he wasn’t even trying to hear The Great Man’s patter. Rather he focused on Jemima, wondering how she coped with this charade. He noted that The Great Man was flanked by two gorgeous young women and he wondered how Jemima felt about his endless womanising.
Jemima paid no particular attention to Robin and most of the time addressed herself to a woman sitting beside her who looked as if she’d had several face lifts. The woman when she spoke hardly moved her mouth, and gave the impression that she was terrified that if she did open her mouth too wide or made any facial expression, the whole hugely expensive edifice would collapse. He recognised her as the wife of a prominent banker.
He looked at Jemima carefully, trying to think of what she might want. To his surprise he realised he had not once been completely alone with Jemima since just before her marriage. Always there had been others clustered round her, alternatively one or more of the dark suits always seemed to be hovering close by.
The company ploughed its way through several courses as The Great Man continued to regale them with his wit and insights. Robin was anxious to get the meal over so that he could have his private talk with Jemima but no one left the table until The Great Man had talked and eaten his fill.
The end came at last, The Great Man rose and guffawing, announced that he had some papers to read and that he’d be working late into the night. There were a few murmurs of sympathy, and The Great Man, putting on his statesman’s face, left them. Robin noted that a dark suit came over to the two attractive women who had been sitting with The Great Man, whispered to them, and they left the room.
Jemima looked directly at Robin and mouthed, ‘Ten minutes.’ He nodded and she started to leave but stopped and spoke to a dark suit, she pointed in Robin’s direction and left.
The Great Man gone and now Jemima, the gathering began to break up into small groups. Some wandered out through the massive French windows into the flood lit garden, while others stood talking quietly. ‘More deals being made,’ Robin said to himself.
Robin stood, waiting to see what would happen next. One of the attractive women came towards him walking with a seductive swaying motion, an enticing smile on her lips that did not reflect in her eyes.
‘All alone,’ she asked in a husky voice that was no doubt intended to seduce the one addressed. ‘How about coming for a walk in the garden and we can get to know each other.’
‘One of The Great Man’s little treats for his guests,’ Robin thought. He had received this sort of approach on previous visits, but there was a rumour among those in the know that these women were The Great Man’s cast-offs and that some of them had ended up with something nasty, Robin had not yielded to temptation.
He smiled at her and said, ‘Sorry, but I have some business to attend to shortly.’
She shrugged irritably and passed on to approach an elderly man who Robin recognised as a steel magnate.
A dark suit came over to him and said, ‘If you will come with me, sir.’
Robin followed him out of the room and down a long corridor. They were approaching a wing that he had never visited before, and he began to realise that he hadn’t known where Jemima’s study was.
The passage turned at right angles and they were confronted by a large white door blocking the way. A dark suit was sitting beside the door. He looked up and Robin’s escort whispered something to him. The man glanced at a clipboard and Robin could see a photograph of himself clipped to it.
The seated dark suit nodded, pressed a button and the door swung open. The passage stretched out in front of them and after walking a couple of dozen metres dark suit stopped and knocked on a door.
A faint voice that Robin recognised as Jemima’s called, ‘Come in.’
The dark suit opened the door and said, ‘Mr. Milton, ma’am.’
‘Come in Robin,’ Jemima called.
Robin entered, the dark suit left closing the door behind him.
Jemima was stretched out on a large sofa, her kicked off shoes lying on the floor.
Robin glanced round the room. Apart from the sofa there were two matching armchairs, a desk with a computer and two telephones on it and behind it a high backed swivel chair. One wall was lined with bookshelves, the contents of which were clearly more used than the official library and what looked like a drinks cabinet and a rather incongruously ancient metal filing cabinet stood again
st another wall. There were three doors, the one from the corridor and one that must have led to the rest of the suite, where the third led he couldn’t guess. There were several paintings on the walls that Robin did not recognise.
‘I thought I knew where your study was,’ he said, ‘I’ve never been in this wing before.’
Jemima smiled and said, ‘The one you’re thinking of is my official study. That’s where I meet people like ambassador’s wives and other official types. This is my private study and this wing is where the children and I live. I had thought I’d meet you in the official study, but changed my mind.’
She smiled and went on, ‘This is a very private meeting.’
Robin laughed and said, ‘I’m flattered.’
‘So you should be, Robin Milton,’ Jemima said teasingly. ‘No one gets into this wing and especially this study, without my explicit invitation.’
‘Not even your husband?’ He joked.
Jemima looked up at him sharply. ‘Come on Robin, you’re not blind and you’re not a fool. You’ve been close enough to the inner circle to know what goes on.’
She looked at him appraisingly for a moment, as if making up her mind whether to continue. When she did speak Robin felt a trifle shocked at her bluntness.
‘We’ve been friends for a long time and in the light of what I’m going to ask you shortly I’ll be frank with you. I’m only for breeding and parading in public.’
She paused again for a moment then said, ‘I play the game, Robin, the devoted wife and mother of his children. It goes down wonderfully with the voters, especially the more sentimental ones. But you know damned well what he gets up to with women.’
‘It’s all hushed up but one of these days it’s all going to come out. That will probably be after he loses an election or retires from office, unless one of the women blows the whistle before that. In the meantime his yes-men keep the lid on it because they know damned well when he’s gone, they’re gone too. For the rest, those who are in the know are the sort of people you saw tonight, they either want something from him or he’s got something on them that they wouldn’t like to be revealed.’
‘I gave him the three children he thought obligatory, after that he hasn’t been near me, and he’d be wasting his time if he tried.’
She gave a self-mocking laugh, ‘Do you know he never screws a woman more than three times, after that she’s dead meat as far as he’s concerned. I was one of the privileged ones, he actually lasted two weeks with me. In that time I got pregnant with our first child, after that he only came near me to procreate a couple more times.’
She sighed and stopped speaking.
‘Why do you stick it?’ Robin asked.
‘That’s what I often ask myself, family, the country, the public howls that would go up if I left him, or perhaps I just like being so close to the centre of power, but it wears a bit thin at times. Then there are children. You see, I’m not sure what he would do about them if I left. It would suit him to keep them, the devoted father caring for his children when the evil mother had deserted them. Who would believe me over against mister energetic, smiling, hearty hand shaker with a cheerful word for everybody? No, I wouldn’t stand much chance against all the legal muscle he can muster.’
‘I’m sorry, Jemima,’ Robin said.
‘I didn’t ask you here to pour out my woes, I’ve never spoken to anyone else like that, but it only confirms for me that I’ve made the right choice.’
‘Choice?’
‘Yes, I asked you here on the basis of our old friendship. I’ve got something to ask you.’
‘Here it comes,’ thought Robin, ‘now I find out what she wants.’
‘You know, Robin, I’m so often surrounded by people. Even when I’m not at some official function and I’m supposed to be relaxing, perhaps at the beach, going for a walk, horse riding, I’ve always got my shadows with me.’
‘Shadows?’
She laughed, ‘Yes, you’ve seen them, the agents who are supposed to protect me. Everywhere I go whatever I’m doing, there they are. This wing of the building is one of the few places where I and the children can have some privacy. You saw the door in the corridor, you wouldn’t have got past that without my making a special arrangement.’
Ofelia
- 18.09.2020
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