Page 7 of Praise Me: President
She’d be a lot more relaxed right now.
“I’ve never been in a helicopter, sir.”
“It’s safe, Ms. Rogers. I wouldn’t bring you anywhere that wasn’t.”
“I know. I’m just…” It has come time for her to climb the steps and she’s digging in her heels, pale as a ghost. “Thank you for inviting me on this trip, but I’m suddenly remembering a very important meeting I—”
“There’s no meeting, Ms. Rogers,” I say, turning her back around by the shoulders. “The pilot of Marine One served two decades in the Air Force. I promise you we’ll make it to West Virginia.”
“Oh great, now you’ve jinxed us,” she whimpers, relenting and allowing me to guide her up the steps into the helicopter. We duck inside and take two of the four seats, my Secret Service agents filling the others in front of us. “Is it too late to call my mom and tell her I love her?” she says, her words filling my ears through the headset.
“You can call her when we land.”
“Stop jinxing us!”
My lips twitch. “Sorry.”
Less than a minute later, the door of the chopper closes, and the revolutions of the blades increase in pace, the helicopter beginning to move. Forward and up. She’s gripping the armrests so tightly with her white-knuckled hands, her wide eyes on the horizon, she’s totally forgotten to fasten her seatbelt. I have no choice but to do it for her, right? I would ensure the safety ofanyemployee. Right?
Perhaps I wouldn’t feel a fraction as passionate about anyone else’s safety, but that’s for me to know and nobody else to find out. Although I could try and be a little less obvious about myprotective urges when it comes to Ms. Eloise Rogers. Such as refraining from orders to have the Secret Service secure her apartment.
Inwardly admonishing myself, I reach over and slide my hand down between her far hip and the armrest, trying not to groan over the smooth curve of her hip and waist. Or the fact that the hem of her skirt has ridden up, revealing the lacy, black edges of her stockings.Fuck.As I engage her buckle, I can’t help but devour the sliver of thigh showing itself off above the tops of those stockings—and I know she wore them for me. She wore them hoping I was going to spread her thighs at some point on this trip.
My cock knows it, too. Remembers every word of her little invitation yesterday.
You’ve been working so hard. Taking care of everyone and everything.
Someone has to take care of you.
This certainly marks the first time I’ve had a hard dick on a helicopter.
“Oh boy,” she breathes, looking out the window briefly, before squeezing her eyes shut, her tits rising and falling with shallow breaths. “We’re really high now. Are you sure we’re going to make it to West Virginia?”
“Yes. I am.” Despite my even tone, she’s still holding on for dear life and against every shred of self-preservation in my body, I reach over and offer her my hand. She doesn’t just take it, she grabs for it like I’m the only thing keeping her from falling off a cliff, pulling until my entire forearm is wedged between her breasts and I can feel her heart racing out of control. “Easy, angel,” I say, looking her in the eye. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again. I wouldn’t take you anywhere that wasn’t safe.”
She inhales through her nose and out through her mouth, restlessly crossing her gorgeous thighs, showing off even moreskin above the lacy tops of those stockings. My dick pounds at the sight, that forbidden flesh so close to her panties. Her cunt.
“You probably feel right at home up here, don’t you?” she whispers.
I nod over the accuracy. “More than I do behind a desk, that’s for sure.” I absorb the vibration of the engine with a sigh, the hum beneath my feet. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be comfortable putting on a suit every day.”
She processes that. “It’s where you can make the most difference.”
“Easier said than done. One week into this job and I can see why nothing ever gets accomplished. Everyone has an agenda and if you’re not scratching their back, they’ll stab you in yours. Entire bills get stonewalled over an insignificant detail…”
“If you weren’t qualified to cut through the red tape, I wouldn’t be here right now, prepared to die on a helicopter.” We share a quiet laugh. “If the game is fixed, Mr. President, you’ll simply have to change it.”
“Got any tips for doing that?” I ask, wanting her opinion, yes, but also keeping her talking, because it’s distracting her from being nervous.
“Break their backs, instead of scratching them,” she deadpans.
A laugh cracks out of me. “I’ll make a note.” I’m not sure if Eloise realizes she’s still holding onto my arm, the appendage clutched across her chest like a second seatbelt, but every time we hit a little patch of rough air, her tits jiggle and sway, and Lord, filth does its best to take over my brain. I think of her straddling my lap naked, so I can watch her tits bounce with the turbulence, that clipboard from yesterday in her hands as she makes notes, talking me through the day’s agenda while she rides my dick.
Breathe.
I can get through this trip without fucking my youth council secretary.
I can.