Secretly Serviced

He gives “secret service” a whole new meaning….

How is the president’s daughter supposed to have any fun while living in a gilded cage? Kelly would gladly trade the view from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and all its perks for what she really wants: an earth-shattering orgasm.

But one perk Kelly would never give up is Michael Weston. She’s sure the sexy secret service agent can give her what she desires—though falling for Kelly’s seduction could cost him everything….

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Kelly was bored. She pretty much always was, but with the entire world always watching, how was she ever supposed to have any fun? She looked around the pretty, important bedroom and thought of it as a cage, gilded yes, but a cage just the same. When she’d left for college she had been so full of excitement, thinking she’d finally found the freedom she had craved, would finally experience the earth-shattering sex she’d read about in the dirty novels that were passed around the all-girls private school she’d attended. With the exception of one depressing experience with a guy too drunk to care who she was, the only sex Kelly had had was with herself. She sighed and wandered to the window, wondering if she was a bad person for wanting to exchange the view from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue for an orgasm.

There were perks to being the daughter of the most important man in the world. Perks she was grateful for, but lately the restrictions she’d become so accustomed to during her father’s first term had started to chafe. Shaking off the mood, she strode naked to the king-sized bed, rubbing her small, taut tits in both hands. Lying back, she braced a foot against each post at the foot of the bed. She licked the tips of her index fingers and rubbed them against her nipples, exciting herself further. She heard murmurs outside her door and recognized the voices of her secret service detail changing shifts. Her imagination drew a picture of the man taking over. Agent Weston. Michael. He was older. Much older. But still very attractive.

His hair was dark and short, shot with gray at the temples. His eyes were very blue. He had strong masculine features and a slightly crooked nose. His expression was always stern but she knew she’d seen humor and maybe even appreciation glint in his eyes. He had strong, wide shoulders, thick arms and big hands. Kelly smiled as she wondered how those hands would feel on her skin, how those shoulders would feel under hers. She wondered if he would call her Miss as he pounded his dick into her. Kelly could feel her clit getting bigger, tingling, and she slid a hand down herself to rub it with the fleshy pad of her finger.

She knew her clit was big, and that it got really large and bright red when she was aroused, she’d checked. So curious about sex and surrounded by all girls, they’d experimented with each other and she knew her button was unlike most. When fully aroused, even the slightest touch could bring pleasure and the more she daydreamed about Agent Weston, the larger and more sensitive the nubbin became. Kelly grasped the headboard above her, stretching her lithe body as she caressed herself. She could feel her juices sliding down her ass crack and enjoyed the sensation.

She wondered what he would do, what he would say if she called him in here right now. Would he leave? Watch? Stroke himself? Or take her up on the obvious offer? The more she thought about it the more excited she got and as she silently came, she vowed to find out.

Not much later, Kelly dressed in a light green shift dress that had buttons up the back. She could reach them herself but decided to begin her seduction of Agent Weston by having him do it. She opened the door and looked out at the handsome armed man guarding her door and gently cleared her throat. He looked down and she knew he could see the top of her bosom in the gaping neckline. “Could you button this for me?” She turned her back to him without waiting for an answer and felt his fingers brush her skin as he silently did as she asked. She thought maybe he lingered a little, touched her back a bit more than necessary, and thought perhaps this wouldn’t take as long as she’d worried. “Thank you.”

The following day, while wearing indecently little shorts and no panties, she “accidently” dropped something in front of Agent Weston and bent to pick it up. Later that week, she asked his opinion on her bikini then quickly changed into another skimpier suit and asked which he liked better. She called him into her room to ask his help unhooking a bra whose metal loop had “somehow” gotten bent. Whenever possible she brushed against him, her tit along his arm, a hand across his ass, her hip along his. The one time she’d absently rubbed her hip against his, she’d felt his firearm through the linen and felt a rush of warmth spread through her pussy. She’d gone directly back to her room to finger herself.