(Author’s Note: This was something I attempted earlier and published somewhere else. I made some changes and am posting it here. Please enjoy. Also, please remember, this is a work of fiction. It is not meant to be taken as a threat or promise of anything illegal.)
Megan Lane-Drum walked purposely through the hall carrying the tray. Normally, she let one of the sterwards take the tray but today she was leaving nothing to chance, it was finally, “The Day" for her.
It had started like most days, up at 5 a.m. and into the gym a few minutes later for her workout, today was a core workout day. After Megan hustled into the shower at the gym. Since it was still early she did her hair taking her time so it looked perfect, even if that meant her auburn hair was straightened. Next came her makeup, she did it in the understated way people had come to expect of her but made sure to do just enough to emphasize her lips and deep blue eyes. Then she dressed in the clothes she had brought with her. Before leaving she grabbed the little pill bottle from her gym bag that she needed to bring her husband.
It had all been arranged for this morning, she knew and wanted to be in an outfit she would want to see in pictures for years to come. The bottom layer was her favorite panty and bra set, light pink lace that she felt made her B-cup breasts look as good as they could on a 42-year-old woman. Not for the first time she pushed thoughts of plastic surgery from her mind but the little voice in her head continued to nag her to “think about it”. Megan then pulled on the rest of the outfit she had chosen, a pale blue blouse with pussy bow ties and a matching pencil skirt that she always thought showed off her ass the best. On her feet were a pair of four-inch navy blue suede pumps. At 5’10 in her bare feet, the heels brought her to just an inch under her husband’s height, not to mention the fact that after all the years she had worn them, she still loved how they made her legs and bum look.
Arriving home she had gone to the kitchen and collected her husband’s tray. People said the way her husband ate the food was going to kill him. She looked at the covered plates that the cooks gave her after checking with the agents on duty if this would be alright then how could they say no to her. Megan smiled at the thought, she looked hot and why would they deny a wife the opportunity to bring her stressed husband breakfast in bed? She knew the tray they gave her would contain eggs and bacon, one of those sugar cereals he insisted on eating like a seven-year-old, and as the lone concession to health, avocado toast. She added the pill bottle and was on her way.
As she maneuvered down the halls and then up the stairs by the little elevator to the master bedroom Megan was followed by one of the protection detail. She smiled to herself when she realized it was Jerome Okafor and put a little extra sway in her step. Okafor was tall, broad-shouldered with his head shaved. He had immigrated from Nigeria as a child. She knew he had served in the Army, including tours in both Iraq and Afghanistan before joining the Secret Service and eventually being selected for the protection detail and it was universally agreed upon by all the women and gay men in the West Wing that he was the sexiest man in the detail.
Okafor relieved the sentinel on the door to the master suite and opened the door for Megan who took a deep breath to calm herself as she walked through the door.
Sitting up in bed was her husband, Eric Drum was looking at his phone probably one of the social media sites he was always on, “Good morning, my love,” she said as she used her fingers to flick down the legs of the tray and placed it across his legs, “Or do I have to be formal and call you, ‘Mr. President,’” she asked doing her best to imitate Marilyn Monroe's version of the title.
Drum looked up and grinned, “You know, bringing me breakfast in bed is going to trigger those snowflakes. They already hate that you’ve said supporting traditional gender roles… too bad I couldn’t snap a picture of this it would have driven them nuts!”
Megan shrugged and leaned in to give him a little peck on the cheek as he reached around and gave her ass a little squeeze as she did and as normal she gave a little “eep” that made him grin. It was so easy, she thought, to keep him grinning and as long as he gave her that grin she knew he was in a listening mood, “Now don’t forget to take your pills,” pointing to the little pill case next to the orange juice on the tray, “Even though the doctor said to the press you’re healthy, you know you need to keep taking those.”
Drum rolled his eyes and reached for the pills, shaking the pills into his hand and putting them in his mouth before taking a sip of the orange juice to swallow them. Megan felt a chill run down her spine when she knew he had done it. She had not expected to feel this way as she saw him open his mouth to utter something, probably one of his inane statements or maybe even a request for her to post something on his Twitter account. She smiled and nodded as she braced herself a little against the foot of the bed, 'Could he know?' She wondered. Drum was now ranting about something that the news channels had said about him, she didn’t care, she was watching him licking her lips as she saw him start to sweat.
Her eyes flicked over to Okafor, As usual Okafor had the inscrutable look that the Secret Service somehow drilled into the agents who worked the Presidential Protection Detail. However, when he caught the wink she was sending him the mask cracked and Okafor walked over behind the First Lady and looked at the president as he lay propped up in bed. Megan felt the thrill of Okafor being so close it had been a long time. She had sacrificed so many years, now it was their moment of triumph, her moment of triumph and there was only one way she wanted to spend it.
The drum was having trouble now with his breathing but as usual the fool refused to acknowledge it. He was so focused on raging at the talking heads on cable news that he did not notice his wife slowly bent at the waist or that she started to pull up her skirt or Okafor moving closer to the First Lady. Megan imagined she could smell him as her breathe was coming in shallow intakes now in anticipation. She pushed back a little with her ass brushing Okafor’s crotch through his trousers as Drum started to flex his left hand. Megan knew she should not be doing this, that if someone were to rush in with a national emergency it would be impossible to explain but she did not care in the least. Pushing back with her ass again she could feel Okafor responding. Looking up she saw that Drum’s face was turning red and he was starting to hold his arm muttering how it hurt. When Drum grunted Megan took a deep breath and in a throaty, needy voice said, “Please Master, bless this vessel with your superior seed,” In her head she imagined Okafor sneering as she felt his hands on her hips for a moment before feeling his rough fingers adroitly pulling up her skirt ******** her ass before pulling her thong to one side. She whimpered softly when there was a delay but then cooed contentedly when she felt the head of his thick, uncut cock slip uncovered into her wet, needy slit.
“W-what?” Drum wheezed as he was now listing to one side sweat rolling down his face as he grabbed tightly at his left arm.
“Did you think I married you for your...” she started then paused to moan as she felt Okafor thrust hard sinking the last few inches of his turgid shaft into her. The sensations she had been craving for so long made her fuzzy for a moment before she forced herself to focus again, panting she repeated, “Did you think that I married you for you?”
Drum was clearly in distress now, grunting in pain, emotion not physical in his eyes, “All those years... oh god… of being the good...” Megan hissed, “Fuck me, thank you Master… wife for you… was for this. If you… oh god… if you hadn't decided to run for office… oh god, Master… run for office you would have died years ago like this.” The sound that came out of his mouth might have been “Why?” or “How could you?” but Megan was too lost to the sensation of Okafor driving his ebony battering ram into her as she pushed back meeting his thrusts with a need that surprised her, it was not her first time but it was her first time since moving into the White House. She needed it, she craved it, that feeling of her Master in her, using her, maybe even blessing her with a breeding it was all so intense after so long of being the good wife of the president. A part of her mind that hadn’t succumbed to the animalistic need to feel Okafor take her noted the tent in her husband’s pajama trousers as he thrashed on the bed. He was always a perv she reminded herself all those nights of hiring pornstars to perform for and on him when she had carried his child. Drum’s reaction might have been due to other things or it could have been arousal at seeing his wife in the throws of passion, seeing her giving herself to the Ebony Adonis as he fought through the pain of the heart attack. It turned her on more that she was making him get hard without a blue pill, that she was doing just by him watching his precious wife with a Black Man. Grabbing the frame of the bed she pushed back against Okafor as he pleasured himself hard and fast. This wasn’t about her needs in the end but her Master's who had granted her risky request, it was her way of showing her husband who had won in the marriage, 'Why didn’t he scream?' Megan had just enough presence of mind to bite back screams of joy as she felt her hole being expanded after so many years without a real Man to use her, this was better than she could have imagined as she saw Eric gasping.
As Drum spasmed once more she felt her body fully surrender an orgasm she had not felt in years of marriage rolling through her body eliminating all conscious thought from her brain and leaving a floating on the sensations. If she had a thought it was that she never wanted it to end, that she was blessed Okafor had accepted her offer that she wanted to feel his seed in her womb, She shuddered, as she felt the orgasm hit her again, rolling through her body as Drum’s death rattle ended and Okafor’s seed flooded her womb.
Okafor had the presence of mind to move quickly. The orgasms had muddled her mind but she remembered enough to pull her skirt down and kneel as Okafor hit the panic button on his belt and straddled Drum performing chest compressions even though they both knew that they were futile. Megan had worked up tears, pleading, “Please baby, come back to us, please!” The White House medical response team would later be recorded as having reached the president 35 seconds after the button was pushed and found Okafor performing CPR on the president.
As she sat in the waiting room hoping she looked as distraught as she should the vice president’s wife knelt by her chair. Priya Marshall put her arm around her, hugging her tightly and whispered softly that no one more than a foot away would be able to hear, “The Cause is proud of you, you will be rewarded. I will take it from here, sister.”
Megan Lane-Drum walked purposely through the hall carrying the tray. Normally, she let one of the sterwards take the tray but today she was leaving nothing to chance, it was finally, “The Day" for her.It had started like most days, up at 5 a.m. and into the gym a few minutes later for her workout, today was a core workout day. After Megan hustled into the shower at the gym. Since it was still early she did her hair taking her time so it looked perfect, even if that meant her auburn hair was straightened. Next came her makeup, she did it in the understated way people had come to expect of her but made sure to do just enough to emphasize her lips and deep blue eyes. Then she dressed in the clothes she had brought with her. Before leaving she grabbed the little pill bottle from her gym bag that she needed to bring her husband.
It had all been arranged for this morning, she knew and wanted to be in an outfit she would want to see in pictures for years to come. The bottom layer was her favorite panty and bra set, light pink lace that she felt made her B-cup breasts look as good as they could on a 42-year-old woman. Not for the first time she pushed thoughts of plastic surgery from her mind but the little voice in her head continued to nag her to “think about it”. Megan then pulled on the rest of the outfit she had chosen, a pale blue blouse with pussy bow ties and a matching pencil skirt that she always thought showed off her ass the best. On her feet were a pair of four-inch navy blue suede pumps. At 5’10 in her bare feet, the heels brought her to just an inch under her husband’s height, not to mention the fact that after all the years she had worn them, she still loved how they made her legs and bum look.
Arriving home she had gone to the kitchen and collected her husband’s tray. People said the way her husband ate the food was going to kill him. She looked at the covered plates that the cooks gave her after checking with the agents on duty if this would be alright then how could they say no to her. Megan smiled at the thought, she looked hot and why would they deny a wife the opportunity to bring her stressed husband breakfast in bed? She knew the tray they gave her would contain eggs and bacon, one of those sugar cereals he insisted on eating like a seven-year-old, and as the lone concession to health, avocado toast. She added the pill bottle and was on her way.
As she maneuvered down the halls and then up the stairs by the little elevator to the master bedroom Megan was followed by one of the protection detail. She smiled to herself when she realized it was Jerome Okafor and put a little extra sway in her step. Okafor was tall, broad-shouldered with his head shaved. He had immigrated from Nigeria as a child. She knew he had served in the Army, including tours in both Iraq and Afghanistan before joining the Secret Service and eventually being selected for the protection detail and it was universally agreed upon by all the women and gay men in the West Wing that he was the sexiest man in the detail.
Okafor relieved the sentinel on the door to the master suite and opened the door for Megan who took a deep breath to calm herself as she walked through the door.
Sitting up in bed was her husband, Eric Drum was looking at his phone probably one of the social media sites he was always on, “Good morning, my love,” she said as she used her fingers to flick down the legs of the tray and placed it across his legs, “Or do I have to be formal and call you, ‘Mr. President,’” she asked doing her best to imitate Marilyn Monroe's version of the title.
Drum looked up and grinned, “You know, bringing me breakfast in bed is going to trigger those snowflakes. They already hate that you’ve said supporting traditional gender roles… too bad I couldn’t snap a picture of this it would have driven them nuts!”
Megan shrugged and leaned in to give him a little peck on the cheek as he reached around and gave her ass a little squeeze as she did and as normal she gave a little “eep” that made him grin. It was so easy, she thought, to keep him grinning and as long as he gave her that grin she knew he was in a listening mood, “Now don’t forget to take your pills,” pointing to the little pill case next to the orange juice on the tray, “Even though the doctor said to the press you’re healthy, you know you need to keep taking those.”
Drum rolled his eyes and reached for the pills, shaking the pills into his hand and putting them in his mouth before taking a sip of the orange juice to swallow them. Megan felt a chill run down her spine when she knew he had done it. She had not expected to feel this way as she saw him open his mouth to utter something, probably one of his inane statements or maybe even a request for her to post something on his Twitter account. She smiled and nodded as she braced herself a little against the foot of the bed, 'Could he know?' She wondered. Drum was now ranting about something that the news channels had said about him, she didn’t care, she was watching him licking her lips as she saw him start to sweat.
Her eyes flicked over to Okafor, As usual Okafor had the inscrutable look that the Secret Service somehow drilled into the agents who worked the Presidential Protection Detail. However, when he caught the wink she was sending him the mask cracked and Okafor walked over behind the First Lady and looked at the president as he lay propped up in bed. Megan felt the thrill of Okafor being so close it had been a long time. She had sacrificed so many years, now it was their moment of triumph, her moment of triumph and there was only one way she wanted to spend it.
The drum was having trouble now with his breathing but as usual the fool refused to acknowledge it. He was so focused on raging at the talking heads on cable news that he did not notice his wife slowly bent at the waist or that she started to pull up her skirt or Okafor moving closer to the First Lady. Megan imagined she could smell him as her breathe was coming in shallow intakes now in anticipation. She pushed back a little with her ass brushing Okafor’s crotch through his trousers as Drum started to flex his left hand. Megan knew she should not be doing this, that if someone were to rush in with a national emergency it would be impossible to explain but she did not care in the least. Pushing back with her ass again she could feel Okafor responding. Looking up she saw that Drum’s face was turning red and he was starting to hold his arm muttering how it hurt. When Drum grunted Megan took a deep breath and in a throaty, needy voice said, “Please Master, bless this vessel with your superior seed,” In her head she imagined Okafor sneering as she felt his hands on her hips for a moment before feeling his rough fingers adroitly pulling up her skirt ******** her ass before pulling her thong to one side. She whimpered softly when there was a delay but then cooed contentedly when she felt the head of his thick, uncut cock slip uncovered into her wet, needy slit.
“W-what?” Drum wheezed as he was now listing to one side sweat rolling down his face as he grabbed tightly at his left arm.
“Did you think I married you for your...” she started then paused to moan as she felt Okafor thrust hard sinking the last few inches of his turgid shaft into her. The sensations she had been craving for so long made her fuzzy for a moment before she forced herself to focus again, panting she repeated, “Did you think that I married you for you?”
Drum was clearly in distress now, grunting in pain, emotion not physical in his eyes, “All those years... oh god… of being the good...” Megan hissed, “Fuck me, thank you Master… wife for you… was for this. If you… oh god… if you hadn't decided to run for office… oh god, Master… run for office you would have died years ago like this.” The sound that came out of his mouth might have been “Why?” or “How could you?” but Megan was too lost to the sensation of Okafor driving his ebony battering ram into her as she pushed back meeting his thrusts with a need that surprised her, it was not her first time but it was her first time since moving into the White House. She needed it, she craved it, that feeling of her Master in her, using her, maybe even blessing her with a breeding it was all so intense after so long of being the good wife of the president. A part of her mind that hadn’t succumbed to the animalistic need to feel Okafor take her noted the tent in her husband’s pajama trousers as he thrashed on the bed. He was always a perv she reminded herself all those nights of hiring pornstars to perform for and on him when she had carried his child. Drum’s reaction might have been due to other things or it could have been arousal at seeing his wife in the throws of passion, seeing her giving herself to the Ebony Adonis as he fought through the pain of the heart attack. It turned her on more that she was making him get hard without a blue pill, that she was doing just by him watching his precious wife with a Black Man. Grabbing the frame of the bed she pushed back against Okafor as he pleasured himself hard and fast. This wasn’t about her needs in the end but her Master's who had granted her risky request, it was her way of showing her husband who had won in the marriage, 'Why didn’t he scream?' Megan had just enough presence of mind to bite back screams of joy as she felt her hole being expanded after so many years without a real Man to use her, this was better than she could have imagined as she saw Eric gasping.
As Drum spasmed once more she felt her body fully surrender an orgasm she had not felt in years of marriage rolling through her body eliminating all conscious thought from her brain and leaving a floating on the sensations. If she had a thought it was that she never wanted it to end, that she was blessed Okafor had accepted her offer that she wanted to feel his seed in her womb, She shuddered, as she felt the orgasm hit her again, rolling through her body as Drum’s death rattle ended and Okafor’s seed flooded her womb.
Okafor had the presence of mind to move quickly. The orgasms had muddled her mind but she remembered enough to pull her skirt down and kneel as Okafor hit the panic button on his belt and straddled Drum performing chest compressions even though they both knew that they were futile. Megan had worked up tears, pleading, “Please baby, come back to us, please!” The White House medical response team would later be recorded as having reached the president 35 seconds after the button was pushed and found Okafor performing CPR on the president.
As she sat in the waiting room hoping she looked as distraught as she should the vice president’s wife knelt by her chair. Priya Marshall put her arm around her, hugging her tightly and whispered softly that no one more than a foot away would be able to hear, “The Cause is proud of you, you will be rewarded. I will take it from here, sister.”
