Ask Not What Your Country Can Do for You - Cover

Ask Not What Your Country Can Do for You

Copyright© 2016 by LughIldanach

Chapter 8: A Secretary Fantasy

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 8: A Secretary Fantasy - Continuing the do-over from "Tomorrow is another Day", the world not having disappeared in the mushroom clouds of the Cuban Missile Crisis, the clan turns its attention to rational prevention of the Vietnam debacle, world stability, and civil rights. Such changes, of course, are only possible when powered by sexual magick and the Others, represented by a stately orange tabby. As historically accurate as possible, including some personal experience.

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Mult   Consensual   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   TransGender   Historical   Time Travel   DoOver   Mother   Daughter   Group Sex   Polygamy/Polyamory   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Water Sports   Cream Pie   Spitting   Exhibitionism   Double Penetration   Tit-Fucking   Analingus   Military   War   Politics  

That evening in early February, Roger Hilsman joined us, Eleanor having spent the day with us. He had brought a small suitcase for both of them, and changed from his office suit into the Hugh Hefner style of red velvet smoking jacket and the obligatory pipe. He posed for us and all broke out laughing.

He and Eleanor appeared to update one another through rapport. “I gather you’ve been reviewing the Forrestal report.”

“Yes. We have yet to get through the information warfare material, but thought we’d hold off until we can talk to David Halberstam or Neil Sheehan. What I’d like to now is address Forrestal’s recommendations to the President.”

Roger waved his pipe. “This might be an official conflict of interest for me, so I shall step outside. Eleanor can remain and participate.”

“Since I don’t yet have much expertise in these issues, Roger, would you like me to keep you company?” I’d swear that Eleanor and Dorothy exchanged, in a look, a signal to flash the tops of white stockings they both wore.


“Dorothy, my dear, I’m confident that Eleanor and I will soon add physical intimacy with the Clan. It may not be that appropriate, yet, for me to anticipate what she does. In no way, however, does that preclude some very nice cuddling, and going a bit more than that.”

“Roger, I appreciate your discretion. Understand, though, that I’m just getting used to being admired and desired. Would you mind if I showed off for you?”

“I would be delighted!”

“Give me a few minutes to prepare, then.” She puttered through her dresser and the closet, and disappeared into the bathroom.

She returned, wearing a long satin robe, belted at the waist, kimono-style. Roger glanced down to see her wearing what appeared to be high-heeled white boots.

Dorothy put on Winchester Cathedral and started to spin to it. She muttered “I must get a pole installed in here!” Roger appreciated her high kicks, showing off stockinged legs indeed in boots.

Eventually, she whipped open the robe, spun, and flung it over a shoulder, to reveal an abbreviated nurse’s uniform. Somehow, Roger knew, without words, that it was a real one, with the hem raised and something done to the neckline.

Just at the point where he wondered what she wore under it, as he saw no stocking tops, she paused dramatically, and pulled up her skirt to show opera-length hose, gartered and rolled at the very top of her legs. Before she dropped back her skirt, there was but a flash of very sheer panties.

In the not that recent past, Dorothy had studied tae kwon do. Her high kicks, therefore, were based on lethal attacks, not dance -- although she had enjoyed dance in her youth. Recognizing the style of kick amused Roger. As she moved around him, kicking the air and swishing her skirt, he found himself trying hard to keep a good look at her panties. She did seem to be a natural blonde, although partially shaved. He could see enough of her posterior to appreciate it, more full than that of his wife but not in the least sagging.

Roger, Dorothy, and Eleanor “heard” the Others: We know that you are being grownups and moving deliberately. We suggest that Roger feel free to masturbate, Dorothy to enjoy his semen, and Eleanor, in the spirit of your open marriage, revel in the sensuality but also the closeness.

With that reassurance, Dorothy smiled, and helped Roger undo his pants and underwear. She decided that if he was going to see her nipples, the reverse was fair, so she unbuttoned his shirt. Immediately after she opened his shirt, very deliberately, she pulled down what was to prove an elastic top to her uniform. She cupped her breasts, already presented by a filmy, lacy bra. He could see that her nipples were hard, pointing at him.

Laughing aloud, Roger said “you realize that it’s been years since I masturbated to a dancer, even without a lap dance? Let me correct that: jerked off seems more appropriate.”

“Quite OK, Roger. See that nice recliner there? Once you start, I’m going to pull it over here, sit in exceptionally naughty pose, and masturbate. Ah, I shall also correct that to jill off.”

Still chuckling, he said “From my youth, nasty dancers didn’t always take requests. In this case, I’d like to get a close look at your lovely ass. First, though, if you wouldn’t mind, remove that bra, not that it covers much.” Dorothy looked down to see Roger’s firm erection, which he was beginning to stroke.

“Of course.” She did whatever it is that women do to make their bras disappear, moved in front of him, and began to swing her perky, medium-sized breasts just short of his face. “No touching!” Her nipples, however, grazed his cheeks and mouth.

Dorothy turned around, raising her skirt to her hips, a very short distance. Her buttocks were clearly visible through the filmy panties. Roger realized that she could stand next to Eleanor, baring their behinds, and both be extremely attractive yet different. Dorothy’s rump and hips were wider, but with no sag. Eleanor was slim but with high, well-muscled buttocks.

Turning again to face him, she pulled the panties tight against her mound, and them swept them off. She had a moderately sized, well-trimmed patch of blonde hair, with labia and a clitoris that Roger longed to lick. Dorothy went to the recliner, and pulled it a little in front of Roger. She hooked her legs over the arms of the chair, moved one hand to her vulva, and opening her labia to display warm, wet, pinkness. Her fingers slid up, spreading her clitoral hood, and then stroking its head.

“I’ll bet I am the only person, of Assistant Secretary of State rank, to do this today.”

“Quite all right, Roger. Didn’t you ever look through a porn catalog? Lots of secretary fantasies.”

“Harrumph. Let’s concentrate, woman.” His fingers began to circle his corona and move up and down. He tried to match his rhythm to hers.

Before long, he began to shudder. Dorothy moved quickly, kneeling in front so he would spray her breasts. Roger nearly screamed with that. As he caught his breath, she moved to sit on his lap, scooping off his semen and licking her fingers.

“Believe me, Roger, I want to do this with you and Eleanor as soon as we can. Aside from the fun of it, I’m much more bonded.”

“So am I.” He pulled her face to his and thoroughly kissed her.


In the briefing room, as Roger and Dorothy got better acquainted elsewhere, I quoted, “Forrestal called for the “ ... United States should [to] push the Diem government harder on the need for an overall plan, on a reduction in the number of different military organizations, on foreign policy questions in which the United States has an interest, on an effective police program, for a greater emphasis on military operations in extending and securing government control as opposed to large-scale offensives and air interdiction, on a meaningful amnesty program, on planning for the post-war economy, and on a realistic effort to get a more favorable press.

“He agreed the U.S. has been pushing. How can it push more effectively? The U.S. probably does have more leverage today than a year ago: “At that time Diem and officials at the national level were practically the only point of contact the U.S. had with either civil or military programs. Today, however, the U.S. has military advisors not only at the lower levels of the Army but with each province chief and steps are being taken to put U.S. AID advisors in at least 20 of the 41 provinces. It therefore is becoming possible to accomplish much of what we want at the local level without going through the vastly inefficient national bureaucracy. An example is the work of the special forces teams. They work at the village level, and at a number of places have done wonders not only in training and supervising the erection of village defenses but also in medical aid, school construction, and even in agriculture and marketing.

“Forrestal judged that it was key to improve local influence, in the civil sector, starting with AID advisers at the provincial level, and even lower when it made sense to do so. Yes, Lorna?”

“Remember that AID does the overt police advising, and the police can be a source of abuse. That may well be the first place to go below provincial level.

“He did not address it, but CIA runs some police functions. There sometimes needs to be better coordination among our own major organizations: the office of the Ambassador, MACV, AID, CIA, and USIA, the latter doing public information.”

“Thanks. Forrestal went on, “In addition, having gotten past the first year of increased U.S. support and demonstrated our sincerity, the time has probably come when we can press our views on Diem more vigorously and occasionally even publicly.

“One final recommendation for U.S. action concerns our dealings with the press here in Washington. In our judgment a systematic campaign to get more of the facts into the press and T.V. should be mounted. Although our report, for example, is not rosily optimistic, it certainly contains the factual basis (e.g., the first few paragraphs) for a much more hopeful view than the pessimistic (and factually inaccurate) picture conveyed in the press.”

I paused. “How can we, in the Clan, influence any of these things? Do we disagree with any of his priorities?”

The President’s Priorities

“Dr. Hilsman,” his executive assistant, Walter Kelly, told him, “The President would like to see you on Wednesday. He asked me to tell you that this isn’t a crisis and you aren’t in trouble, but he’d like to get your personal views of what is happening in Vietnam. This will be informal and you don’t need a presentation. McGeorge Bundy will be present, and possibly Bobby Kennedy, but no one else.”


In the Oval Office, JFK grinned. “Sorry that the Secret Service patted you down, Dr. Hilsman. With your experience, you could still kill me with your bare hands.”

Roger laughed back. “But now I have a doctorate, and shouldn’t get that messy. At the very least, I should use a club.”

“Interesting metaphor. Some of your notes make me wonder if we are approaching Vietnam with a club, or in a very crude way.

“Let me be explicit. We are still getting to know one another, but both Bobby and I feel a connection to you. I ask you to be completely frank, and am open to be called wrong on issues. That being said, what’s your sense of the situation? What do you think of Forrestal’s report?”

“Forrestal said a lot of things with which I agree. Yes, the Strategic Hamlet program is the apparently total focus, yet it has problems, especially with getting peasant support. Yes, the ARVN...” Roger looked up to see if the President knew the abbreviation. JFK nodded. “ ... the ARVN are conserving forces and don’t know, or can’t, do aggressive patrolling.

“Not in Forrestal’s report, but I heard that the senior ARVN officer at Ap Bac, who was not in the chain of command, agreed with the division commander’s lack of aggressiveness. This officer, a two-star who heads the general staff, believes that the first priority is preserving ARVN lives, so, if necessary, the 7th Division and similar forces can help stop a coup against the President. The same officer was frank enough to acknowledge the problem that the most powerful force at Ap Bac, the armored battalion, was in a separate reporting chain and unity of command was a real problem.

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