President's Girlfriend 06 - The Sins of the Fathers (13 page)

“I don’t
think a day has gone by in our entire marriage, if you’re not out of town, that
you aren’t fondling my breasts.”
 
Gina
said this with a smile, as she continued to lean her head back in enjoyment of
Dutch’s fondling.
 
“Are you aware of this
habit?”

“Well
aware,” Dutch said, becoming too sensually aroused to smile, although inwardly
he was delighted.

“I do
believe my breasts have gotten bigger because of your fondling.
 
Is this possible?”

Dutch had to
smile at that.
 
He glanced at his
wife.
 
“What do you think?” he
asked.
 
But when he looked into those
insightful eyes of hers he felt a surge of love shoot through him.
 
And he began kissing her on the mouth again.

Gina wrapped
her arms around his neck and returned his passion.
 
They stood there, in the middle of a home
Dutch once used as his bachelor pad, and groaned and smacked in unison.
 
Their heads turned one way, then another, as
they couldn’t get enough of the other’s taste.
 
She could feel his penis becoming more and more aroused as it pressed
against her while they kissed.

But
eventually Dutch, as Gina knew he would, moved his mouth back to Gina’s breasts.
 
And once again he was fondling them and
kissing them.
 
He took her fully
distended nipples whole into his mouth, and then pulled them as far from her
breasts as they would extend.
 
Then he
bunched both breasts up together and licked his tongue across their juicy
mounds in a way that caused Gina to feel tingles of fire deep inside her
vagina.

Dutch began
unbuttoning and unzipping her pants as he licked her.
 
Gina held onto the back of his head as he lifted
her and carried her to the first seat they came upon, which was an arm
chair.
 
He sat her down in the chair,
removed her pants and panties completely, with her heels still on.
 
He then pulled her butt to the chair’s edge
and spread open her legs as wide as they could extend.
 
And in this position, where her pussy was
completely exposed and wrinkled and ready for his exploration, her legs were
able to extend in the extreme.
 

“I know how
you smell,” Dutch said as he got on his knees in front of her and removed his
letterman jacket.
 
Then he lifted his
shirt off of his ripped, tanned body in one adroit sling off, and tossed it
across the room.
 
“Now,” he continued,
his face moving between her legs, “I want to know how you taste.”

Gina felt
that tingle again as he began rubbing her pussy with his fingers.
 
His eyes were looking at it, admiring how all
of him was always able to fit so snugly into that tiny pink passageway of
wonder.
 
And then his mouth took over, as
she was happily anticipating it would, and he began to taste her.

Gina leaned
back in the chair and closed her eyes in delight as he licked and sucked and
chewed into her.
 
If some of those
blue-haired old ladies who loved themselves some Dutch Harber knew what their
president was doing at this very moment, they would blush red in
astonishment.
 
At least some of them
would, Gina thought with a smile.

And Dutch
was doing her exactly right.
 
She felt
his tongue rub against her inner fold over and over, as if he couldn’t get
enough of her taste.
 
She felt his
fingers open her wider and his entire mouth move in, sucking on her in the kind
of suctions that made her lift in her seat.
 
This black-haired man was giving her that thrill again, and she couldn’t
imagine how she ever lived without it.
 
And he didn’t ease up.
 
Dutch
didn’t roll like that.
 
He would always
take her further and further until she was just at that point of release.
 
And then, and only then, as
if he could sense it himself, he would ease up.

But he
wasn’t ready to ease up yet, as he continued to mouth fuck her.
 
“Your taste,” he kept saying, “I love how you
taste!”
 
And he couldn’t get enough of
her taste, and her smell, and everything that made her his wife.
 
He knew Gina now.
 
He knew every inch of her body now.
 
And that was why he continued to drive her to
the point of cum, just on the tip of tipping over.
 
And just when she gave that quiver, he
stopped.
 
And stood up.

Gina opened
her eyes with a lustful gaze as he began unbuckling and then unzipping his
pants.
 
When he pulled his pants and
boxers down, and his dick jutted out like a stiff, thick rod, her mouth began
to water.
 
His dick was as much a part of
her now as her own womanhood was.
 
That
was how often he had it inside of her.
 
That was how badly she craved it when it wasn’t inside of her.
 
And as he stepped out of his pants and boxers
and kicked those expensive clothes aside as if they were rags, her need to have
him inside of her again was electric.

She should
have been ashamed of herself.
 
Here she
was, bringing him all this way to take care of him.
 
But within moments of their arrival he was
already taking care of her.
 
And taking
care of her as only he could, she thought, as he moved toward her, placed his
hands beneath her ass, and lifted her legs, wide as they could go, into the
air.
  
He guided his dick to the entry of
her womanhood, teased her with his gorgeous pink head, and then slid it in with
that preciseness that always stunned her.

She wanted
to cry in joy when she felt the friction of his entry.
 
It was always tight and explosive, as if he
was breaking through a thicket of moist cunt.
 
And then, once he broke through, it broke her.
 
Because his strokes became like darts against
a board: on target every time he slid into her.
 
Dutch was standing there, completely naked, his ripped stomach pushing
in and out as he pushed in and out of her.
 
He was working it as hard as it could be worked, his eyes hooded with
the sensual gratification every time he saw his dick thrash into her
pussy.
 

He leaned
down and took her breast in his mouth as he fucked her.
 
His penis was saturated with her moistness
and it couldn’t stop thrashing into her.
 
He wrapped his arms around her, and she wrapped her legs around him as
his mouth couldn’t stop sucking her breasts with every pound.
 
He never dreamed a day that began with an
emergency national security meeting could end up being a day where all he had
to do was pleasure his wife.
 
He could do
that with his eyes closed.
 
Because he wanted to please her.
 
He wanted to make her cum so badly that every
thrash was his toast to her.
 
This one’s
for you, baby, his every stroke made clear.

Until he stroked so hard, pushed in so far, that she couldn’t bear up any
longer.
 
He had her on the brink ever since he stopped
mouthing her.
 
Now she was beyond the
brink.
 
She came.
 
Her body began to spasm in that euphoria of
feelings that she didn’t think she could handle.

“Let it out,
Gina,” Dutch was ordering her.
 
“Don’t
you dare hold
back.
 
I want you to let it all out!”

And she
did.
 
She let it all out.
 
He held her tighter as she held nothing
back.
 
He could feel her heartbeat
quicken as she throbbed against his rod.
 
It was an electrifying throb that soon caused him to suddenly experience
what felt like a body blow and arch in a pulsating thrust of his own, a
throbbing that almost took his breath away.
 
And he came too.

His cum
poured out of her like thick milk, trailing down her thighs and saturating her
inflamed folds.
 
He’d put a fucking on
her she wouldn’t soon forget.
 
That was
always his goal.
 
To
give her better than he gave before.
 
And from the way Gina’s eyes smiled back at him, from the way she kissed
him and looked at him, he knew he had accomplished his goal.

His penis
remained inside of her, still pulsating in heavy strikes, waiting for the
feelings to end.
 
He looked at Gina and
kissed her again.
 
He kissed her with a
long, sweet kiss.
 
And when the pulsating
finally stopped, he pulled out of her. He lifted her into his arms, and carried
her to the bedroom.
 
Where, he already
knew, he would fuck her again.

Later that
evening, Gina lit the candles, looked over her hard work once more, and then
took a long exhale.
 
She was so nervous
she could hear the syncopated beats of her own heart.
 
She walked slowly down the long corridor that
led into the study.
 
Dutch had been on
the phone ever since they woke up from their long, wonderfully restful
sleep.
 
But he promised tonight would
belong to them.
 
Gina’s prayer was that
her meal, her hard work, would start the night off right.

She opened
the door of the study slowly and peered inside.
 
And there was Dutch, in his jersey and jeans, his silky black hair
flopped down around his forehead like a sexy bang.
 
He was still on the phone, reviewing a
document that had been faxed over and writing notes all at the same time.
 
Gina momentarily stood there, admiring the
view.

But then she
realized her food was getting cold.

“Excuse me,
Mr. President,” she finally said.
 
It was
clear to her that Dutch didn’t even realize that she was in the room.

Dutch looked up.
 
And his beautiful green eyes went from their
usual intensity to a softer,

warmer
glare.
 
He lifted two fingers and motioned for her to
come on in.

“Yes, Ally, that’s what I’m saying,”
he said into the phone.
 
“All twelve.
 
Right.
 
And I want it

on
my desk when I get back.
 
Right.
 
Okay, dear.
 
Good work.
 
And you take
care.
 
All right.”
 
And he hung up.
 
And then leaned back in his
swivel chair, looking at Gina.

She, too,
wore jeans and a jersey but she wore hers with that Gina flare he loved.
 
She looked particularly attractive, he
thought.
 
The only thing out of place was
that apron around her waist.

“Hello
there,” he said.
 
“What can I do you
for?”

“Dinner is
served,” she said.

Dutch looked at that apron, and then back
into Gina’s dark brown, anxious-looking face.

“Dinner cooked by you or brought in by the White House Chef?”

“Cooked by me,” Gina said with a
smile.
 
Then she frowned.
 
“Oh, Dutch, don’t look so

terrified
.
 
Chef Grady has taught me a lot.
 
I
can cook now.”

Dutch still
looked doubtful.
 
He loved Gina but she
was the worse cook he’d ever encountered.
 
Just awful.
 
Just thinking about some of those dishes she cooked up in the past made
him nauseous.

“Just come
on,” she said, walking around the desk and pulling him up by the hand.
 
“You’ll see.”

Dutch
allowed himself to be dragged away from his work, down the corridor, and into

the
spacious dining room.
 
The candles were lit, the food was already on
the table, and Gina was anxious.
 
To his
relief the food at least looked edible.

He pulled her chair out and then took
a seat at the head of the table.
 
“It
certainly looks

good
,” he said as he placed the napkin
onto his lap.
 
“What is it?”

“Risotto and lamb.”

They bowed heads, said their prayers,
and then Dutch took a bite.
 
Gina stared
at him as he