A Senator And His Aide

Spies are cool. They run around in their expensive cars and tuxedos, stealing Top Secret files, and diffusing bombs. Bad guys are brought down with stylish karate and Kung fu, and they always remain undercover, even after such a cacophony of events.

False.

Lora knew all too well that the Hollywood depiction of a spy was unrealistic. Even the title "spy" was unusual in the trade. The same way law enforcement officers do not like the term "cop", those in the business hated the term "spy". It seemed so juvenile, like an oversimplification of a very difficult job. Everyone had their own preferred titles: undercover, insider, operative, agent, mole. Each title with its own shadowy meaning. Lora preferred to remain untitled. She had a job, and she was good at it. Trying to define what she did beyond that was a waste of time. The assignments were simple to understand, just not always easy to accomplish. While movie spies ran about blowing things up and drinking, Lora did the real work, seduction.

Money is powerful, but everyone has some. A man can be paid to keep a secret or provide a service, but as soon as someone comes around with a better offer, he will take it. Fighting with opposition can quickly become expensive. Satisfy a man with a beautiful redhead like Lora, and you not only provide ample payment for a task, but if documented, a fail safe alternative as well. Money moves mountains, but lust and blackmail can crumble them to dust.

Lora was naturally adept at her job, but was provided with extensive training by the quiet organization that recruited her. Getting a man in bed was easy, especially for someone with her looks. Her wavy red locks framed her softly featured face, and her beautiful emerald eyes were capable of melting a soul. Her breasts were slightly larger than her slim build's proportions, and her hourglass figure made any outfit stunning, including the red silk dress that adorned her lightly tanned frame that night. With an open back and sides, she felt very exposed, not at all remedied by the high cut in the skirt riding up past her hip. The material barely covered her round breasts and left any eye upon her the craving to brush the silk aside.

The click-clack of Lora's heels echoed in the hallway of the mansion she was visiting. Pictures of the family were scattered along the walls, a loving wife standing beside her professionally dressed husband, their grown son standing between them with a Harvard polo and the family terrier in his arms. The perfect American family, she thought, except for the part where I am here. The man was a politician, running for a major office in the capital, and Lora had received a call from her handler, so here she was. At the end of the hall was an office and as instructed, she walked quietly in.

Lora was surprised to see a woman standing next to a large ornate desk, the same woman from the pictures in the hallway. Anyone else would begin to panic and try to think of an excuse for a woman of her caliber being in this house, but Lora learned long ago that those she worked for always had every detail set to plan. Instead, see smiled and held out her hand in greeting.

"My name is Lora," she said with a polite smile.

The woman shook her hand, "Hello, Lora. I'm Denise. This is all terribly awkward isn't it."

"No need to feel uncomfortable," Lora replied, "I'm was sent to help."

Denise shifted uneasily, "I'm sure you know about my husbands political race," she looked up to see Lora's polite nod, "and I was contacted by your... Organization and told that his work is important to you."

"It is. Certain policies and actions the senator supports would help our cause greatly," Lora told her.

"What exactly is that?" Denise asked, "Your cause?"

Lora shrugged a bit, "It's all rather boringly complicated, but I can assure you, it is all about making the world a better place. But first he needs to win this election."

Denise nodded, "Yes, his platform and allies are strong, but he has been having trouble pushing those ideas in public. His confidence is shaky, and the stress of running this campaign isn't helping him at all."

"And that is where I come in," Lora said factually, "I can help build his confidence, but I need your approval. Helping him deliver his message won't do him or us any good if his wife is in the background resenting him."

"Oh that's no problem, dear," Denise replied, "he needs more than I can offer. I just want him to get a win. He's fought for so long for his beliefs, and he deserves to have a well earned victory."

Lora smiled, "Then it's time I meet him."

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As Lora followed Denise through the house, she took a mental inventory of her surrounding. You can tell a lot about someone by the way their house is adorned, and this was no different. Nearly all the pictures were of their family, and not just staged studio photos, but those of them camping at the lake and of them wearing silly hats at Disney world: real family moments. The few that were not, painted an even clearer picture. The man with a hospital staff, holding a giant check, and one with him surrounded by a team of middle schoolers holding a trophy. Lora had met other politicians, and most were very self centered. You could find pictures of them with rich CEOs and retired presidents. They tended to brag about their wealthy friends and connections, but this man only wanted to show off his family and community.

They stepped into the kitchen and found Denise's husband pulling a bottle of water from the fridge, a folded binder in his other hand. Lora looked him over for the first real time and immediately determined that his pictured did not give him credit. He was in amazing shape for his age, with firm features and a sharp jaw. The fainted flecks of gray accented his otherwise jet black hair, and Lora assumed that those didn't exist before his campaign had started.

"Honey, this is Lora," Denise said, grabbing his attention, "She from those people that called."

He looked up from his binder and almost dropped his water when his eyes caught their first glimpse of the brazenly dressed redhead standing in his kitchen. "My name is Michael," he stammered, setting his binder down to shake her hand.

"Nice to meet you, sir," Lora responded, "Your wife is lovely. We were just talking about your campaign and how I can help."

"I'll leave you to it," Denise said, stepping out.

Michael could not help himself from looking Lora over again, "So I've been told you could help with some... radical campaign methodology?"

Lora stepped toward him and moved his binder down the counter top. With ease, she lifted herself and sat on the marble island in front of him, crossing her legs. The material slid up her thigh a bit while she talked, "My role is simple. I'm here to build your personal confidence, but I don't use power poses and motivational catchphrases. I let you draw out that inner power yourself."

He gulped trying to resist the urge to touch her lightly bronzed thighs, "How exactly do I accomplish that?"

She reached forward and took his hands, placing them on her bare leg, "By taking what you want. I am yours. Until this campaign is over, or until you don't need me. I'll stay here at your home and do what you ask. Anything you ask."

Michaels hands shook lightly on her thighs, "Anything I..."

"Anything," Lora reaffirmed. With sensual grace, she spread her legs slightly, letting his hand fall on her thin silk panties. He hesitated at first but let his fingertips gently brush against her. He looked up to meet a soft look in her eyes, and before her could stop, he locked lips tightly with hers. She wrapped her arms around his waist and let him grip her tightly in a deep kiss. Once he broke for a breath, she took hold of his belt buckle and looked to him. He sat quietly for a moment in thought, then gave a slight nod. Lora slipped off the counter onto her knees, and quickly pulled his pants apart and removed his hard cock from his boxers. It sprung out and firmed quickly, and Lora smiled hungrily at the massive rod before her.

With her dress spread across the floor around her, she gripped the base of his shaft with her whole hand and slipped the tip into her watering mouth. By the time her lips met her hand, he was already pushing into her throat. Lora took him as deep as she could several times until his stance began to tighten. She quickened her pace and felt him spasm. Her hand gripped him tightly and pushed up and down the base of his shaft, and her tongue danced around his wide tip until the last moment, when she pulled him completely out and he burst across her face.

As Lora stood up, Michael felt a surge of adrenaline at the sight of her sullied face. His dominion over her filled him with a new energy that was yet unfamiliar. She saw the look in his eye and lay her hand on his pounding heart.

"That feeling," she whispered, "That is what we want to give you, but it's a fleeting feeling. So I'll stay, and provide you with a reminder of what power feels like, anytime you wish."

He leaned back on the fridge, and smiled, "This could actually work..."

Lora smiled back, "Yes it could. Now may I go clean up a bit?"

He nodded, and she left, meeting Denise in the hallway. The wife looked in surprise at Lora's disheveled hair and mess covered face.

"So?" Denise asked inquisitively.

"Like the man said, this could actually work," both the women smiled and strode off to the bathroom.

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Throughout the next day, Lora quietly moved into the guest room of their home. To the outside world, she was a campaign manager, and a good one at that. What the general public did not know, was that the logistical side of that title was being handled by a team of experts hundreds of miles away. Lora was much too busy handling the personal side of the campaign, not that anyone outside the house would ever find out. She spent her time hovering obediently around the Michael, answering his every need. At first, he was noticeably uncomfortable, but Lora had a way of easing his mind. After a few hours vigilantly by his side, she was no different to him than his watch or tie, a necessary piece of his routine. She brought him his coffee, cooked his meals, and helped him bounce ideas back and forth, even rubbing his shoulders when he struggled with a problem.

While Michael ate his lunch and went over demographic reports, Lora slipped out of the office onto the balcony. The warm sun was a nice change to the stagnant air indoors. Basking in the warm afternoon glow, she pulled out her cellphone and dialed the only programmed number.

A gravely voice answered the ring, "Enjoying the sun?"

"Of course," Lora replied, "It's been a productive morning, but it gets stuffy in there."

"Good. Your partner is having similar success in Houston," the voice told her, "We will wait for your next call." With that, the line went dead, and Lora stepped back inside to clean up the dished from lunch. On her way back from the kitchen, she heard tense arguing through the office door.

After a particularly frustrating call with a former contributor, Michael slammed the phone down and gripped the edge of the desk until his knuckles whitened.

"It's ok," Lora said softly, "He's just one man. You have others that can fund us."

The senator threw a binder across the office, "He may be one man, but he's also five percent of our donations. Without him we can't... I'm calling him back."

She took his hand before it could reach the phone, "Your anger is legitimate. But you have to focus it first, or you will lose more than a single donation." She took his hand and slid it up her buttoned top. He gripped her breast with fervent strength, knowing she was right.

Lora tilted her head back as he released the clasp inside her shirt and lifted her arms as he pulled the strapless bra from her chest. With her breasts no longer restrained, the buttons on her shirt struggled to keep their hold.

"Yes, focus that anger," she told him, "Let me feel why you deserve this."

With strong hands, he pulled her shirt apart, shooting buttons in every direction. Michael gripped her wrists and drove her against the office door, pinning her to the solid oak frame. She tilted her head to let her red hair fall away from his advance and moaned as he buried his strong lips in her neck, kissing and biting. He worked his way downward until he met her sensitive nipples. He released her arms and kept working his way down until he met her skirt. With a quick yank, the band of fabric was around her ankles. With her hands still obediently above her head, Lora kicked off the crumpled cloth and spread her legs. She cried out when his tongue began to flick across her wet clit, causing her knees to lock. He teased her with his lips and tongue, making her want to take him by his hair and bury his face in her shaved cunt, but she remained submissively posed, allowing him to take ever drop of her dripping desire unhindered.

Weakening before his skilled tongue, Lora began to feel her legs give out beneath her. Suddenly his strong arms scooped her up by her legs, lifting her up on the door. His grip behind her legs caused her to straddle him and she felt his hard cock rubbing against her ass. He must have pulled it out while he was down there, she thought. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sunk is his grip slightly, opening herself wide to his hungry shaft. With a mighty push, she was pressed hard against the oak door, and his massive cock was buried deep inside her. The petite woman had known he was large from taking him in her throat, but she wasn't at all ready for the reality of his size. She let out a cry of pleasured pain with his first invasion, followed by a sigh of ecstasy with his first withdrawal. Her body racked itself back and forth between the masochistic desire for him to fill every corner inside her and the feeling of release as he retreated.

He pumped powerfully in and out of her causing her to grip his neck and shoulders tightly. Every time he pushed inside, her body tensed with the strength of his thrust, and each time he pulled away, her muscles loosened into a free fall of bliss. Her arms tingled with goosebumps as his mouth attacked her breasts with fervency. Lora could not handle the aggressive onslaught any longer and allowed the rush of a powerful orgasm electrify her body. When her muscles went limp from his efforts, Michael pushed her hard against the door and released himself inside her aching body.

Lora felt his grip loosen on her legs, and she slid to the floor in a heap of spent exhaustion. With her last bits of strength, she raised herself to her knees and took his messy cock in her mouth. After licking it clean of their mixed juices, she tucked his still long shaft back into his pants and buttoned him back up, "Now. Go make your call now."

He straightened his shirt and sat back into his office chair, professional as ever with the exception of the sweat glistening his brow. As he made his call, Lora sat in an opposite state, a heap of sweat and mess, naked on the floor with her clothing in scraps across the room. She passed out like that on the cold floor, and her last glimpse of Michael was that of his smiling confident eyes closing the deal on his troublesome contributor.

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The next day, Michael and his wife, Denise, boarded their jet with Lora by their side. Michael was on his way to a rally, and Lora knew he would dominate this portion of the campaign. The new glint in his eye was powerful, and he was already becoming a changed man. Her handler reported exponential growth in donor statistics, and Denise had personally thanked her that morning at breakfast. Apparently Michael's newfound confidence extended past his political career and into his marriage. So far so good then, Lora thought as she boarded the jet, can't wait for phase two.

I hear Houston is great this time of year.