Chapter 2: The Secret Story Continues

Author’s note: Hopefully this follow up on an earlier report (best read before this one) will not become postnuclear ash from some idiotic whiplash of a cognitively-declined mind. i.e. this is fiction but inspired by the real world!

We thinking citizens are both disgusted and entertained by the continuous growth of missteps and problems by the symbol of presidential power who has held the title since the last election. It’s now been more than a year of a record number of scandals, court overturns, rotating door White House staffing, willy-nilly deregulation to make the rich richer whether they even wanted it, and just plain idiocy.

Melatonia was disgusted. She’d been the dutiful wife, providing pussy and a child to the man she was assigned to in her deep undercover role. She loved being undercovers but with men of her choice and who cared a lot more for her satisfaction than this ego-centric bully.

It was professional pride, not love, that got her pissed off when the stories about her husband bedding a porn start surfaced. She’d figured long ago that the only balls used on many golf trips were between his legs. That just meant fewer times she’d have to spread hers.

There had never been a case of divorce of a sitting President but she didn’t know how she could stand another three years. She’d get screwed out of any money he might have anyway.

The First Lady was detracted from her funk by a cleverly coded message delivered to her phone by Rachel from Cardholder Services. Some important issue needed inside info only she could get. She shuddered at the thought but duty called, literally in this case.

She’d have to fuck her information source to elicit the information. That had happened many times in the past with this man and other intelligence targets. Even though it had been a month since they’d even slept in the same bedroom, she acted interested in his penis, something the older letch could not walk away from if the woman was at all attractive.

He was too out of shape to spend more than a half-minute on top so she just started in the cowgirl position. It was definitely the best for her purposes because she could skillfully control his arousal, prolonging it at the right point to elicit his bragging about the “wonderful, magnificent, better-than-ever-before, etc” topics which included bits of information she wanted to capture.

The bracelet she always wore was an exact duplicate of one Grump had given her as a wedding present but contained a tiny voice recorder. The micro flash memory chip was what she sent on to her contacts. She had a special tampon to secrete it in before she went shopping at a particular ladies apparel shop. Trading it out in a particular bathroom wastebasket for a fresh one planted there, she got a new chip too. The housekeeper who serviced that bathroom was a courier on the side. With that accomplished, she was desperate to get a good lay. Clearly, with constant Secret Service presence, that was a real challenge. When she received a secret message that the newly assigned man to her Secret Service protection was really a deep deep implant she was thrilled. He was a hunk.

She knew from her training that there were a number of men and women who were recruited at a young age and were often second or third generation Americans who kept their record spotless and got the training and background needed to infiltrate be accepted as employees and some rather sensitive areas. These were long-term projects that had been started decades ago and were now being deployed.

There were a few specialty shops that she visited from time to time. One of them was used as a safe house by her organization so she had Jimmy, the new agent, take her there when he was on duty. A secret backroom was made available and he scanned it for audio or video pickups before they got naked. Like her, he was sexually trained as well so she got 8 inches of well operated prime cock to satisfy her unrequited needs. An ensuite shower let them clean up and return to the White House with several items that the shopkeeper had picked out while they were busy.

That was a nice temporary solution but she was still concerned about what would happen if her husband crashed and burned, something that seemed more and more likely as various investigations dug deeper and deeper into his far from spotless past.