Chapter 11: The U.S. Senate is the World’s Greatest Deliberative Body

Sunday, September 23

Calm before the storm

Overall, I realized, the last week in September was the calm before the storm. The Soviets were working on missile installations while the U.S. staff was planning. It was a good time to unwind and bond -- and work on our reverse honey traps.

At brunch, I realized that Shelley had dressed a bit differently. Rather than her usual short skirts, she wore seemingly sprayed-on pants -- no, they were tights, and even semitransparent, with a center seam that emphasized a cameltoe and separated the cheeks of her ass. When she saw me noticing, she smiled and came close, speaking softly.

“Remember, when you, Lois, and I made it? I haven’t forgotten that I asked you to initiate my ass. Could we plan for that? “ She giggled. “I never thought I’d be making dates for specific sex acts, but why should they be different than any other interesting activity?

“Oh my. Yes. I just happen to have some time in my schedule this afternoon. Damn. You probably had some difficult times deciding between those pants, or whatever they are, and a skirt that just brushed your ass. With the latter, I could more easily begin by tasting it.”

“Sir, in that case, I shall change my outfit for the appointed time.” She snapped to attention and threw me what probably was a sharp salute, damaged only by a giggle. “Shall I bring an assistant?”

“If you don’t mind, that probably is a fine idea.”

New York Times vs. Intelligence Community

Reading the paper after brunch, Vivian yelled “Does anyone pay attention in our government?” She drew attention to a New York Times article, in which Blas Roca, one of Castro’s aides, had warned that if Americans invaded Cuba, “missiles will start functioning,” even if the aggression was “indirect.” It was regarded as “Cuban chest-beating.”

I looked over her shoulder. In fairness, it was on page 85.

Backing into pleasure

Not surprisingly, Lois accompanied Shelley. While I was confident that Terry was skilled in that aspect of Greek culture, Greta probably was becoming accomplished, and Arlene and Vivian were ... ahem ... open to the idea, Lois indeed was the best for the purpose. It occurred to me that doula was useful as a term for a companion while giving birth. I wondered if there needed to be a name for this activity, a companion for going in rather than coming out.

Lois had a little bag. “I’m really glad that you two decided to invite me. Oh, it’s exciting to me, but that’s not the important part. For early experience with the potentially delightful activity that you’re about to try, it’s good to have someone to make sure that everyone is properly lubricated, and that at crucial times, there may be someone to help aim. My experience is that the positions most often selected aren’t the best, especially when the two parties haven’t connected this way before.

Shelley had followed my advice, wearing a tiny flaring skirt, black but in a cheerleader cut. Above it, she wore a twirler tunic, rather like a circus band uniform, with rows of gold buttons and much braid. Her legs were in black thigh-highs, and, I suspect, she deliberately picked a skirt that could not cover the stocking tops. I suspected she changed shoes just before entering the room, as I doubt she could have walked far in the six-inch pumps.

“You two can start warming up. Mouths are always nice as a first stage. You two kiss and fondle.” That seemed excellent advice. The two of us sprawled on the bed, and explored one another’s bodies, avoiding, at first, slipping under clothing. When I cupped her ass through her skirt, she moaned lightly.

Eventually, when our tongues were dueling, I slipped my hands under her skirt and caressed her warm and bare buttocks. Was there a thong? Feeling further, I found her to be completely bare.

My finger touched her anus, causing her to jerk reflexively. I could feel that she or Lois had lubricated her. I lay back and pulled her over my face, my tongue probing her posterior. Whoever had lubricated her anticipated me, for the lubricant was delightfully lemon-flavored. Somewhere in the room, I was aware of Lois moving around.

Shelley and I pulled our mouths apart, if only to get a deep breath. Remembering Lois’ comment about the traditional positions, which I assumed to be missionary with woman face down, or doggie, I slid Shelley hips to the edge of the bed. Again anticipating, Lois was at my side, holding a bowl of warmed lubricant. I started to reach for it, but she laughed and said “I’m the assistant, with emphasis on the ass. That’s my job.”

She lubricated my cock, and then spread more onto Shelley, and put one, two, three, and four fingers inside, increasing the slipperiness and slitheriness of her back passage.

Admiring her legs, enhanced by ultrasheer hose and extreme heels, I put her feet onto my shoulders, and pushed forward, my cockhead at her anus. Pausing, I waited for her to accept the head, as it probed, and then the opening closed around it. Slowly, I pushed forward a fraction of an inch, and asked, “How are you doing, love?”

“Oh, it’s pleasantly teasing but feels so big. Yes, let me acclimate a little more, although I want to shove myself onto you. That’s a bad idea, I know. But it doesn’t hurt at all.”

In a bit, she started to push against me, and I let her set the pace. Eventually, most of my length was in her and I started moving back and forth. She sighed happily. “More!”

At my side, Lois whispered, “Take her, but be sure to slow if she’s uncomfortable. Don’t delay cuming; she will get sore from the first time.”

I couldn’t have delayed very long, as she was so exciting. Before I knew it, I was emptying my sperm into her. I pulled her legs tightly around my head, and then put them down and collapsed next to Shelley, kissing her madly. I felt Lois kissing and licking us both, below.

Shelley put her head against my chest. “I feel so full and satisfied. Lois, it’s even better than you described. May I fall asleep in your arms?”