It was a typical August night in D.C., hot, humid, and frankly miserable.
The phone buzzed in the Oval Office.
"Yes?" the president, Harvey Williams, said into the speaker.
"Representative Simone Alexander is here to see you, sir," came the emotionless reply.
"What? It's 9:00 Thursday night; we're scheduled for tomorrow morning," he said as he glanced at his watch.
"I told her that, sir, she says it won't take but a minute; do you want to see her or should I send her away?" the secretary asked.
"It's fine, I'm wrapping up in here anyway; you can send her in; oh, and you can go on home as well and get some rest. We have a long day scheduled tomorrow," he instructed.
"Very good, sir," came the prompt reply, "I'll see you in the morning."
A few seconds later the door opened and the Representative entered the office. As she glided across the room, the president couldn't help but think she was incredibly hot, despite his not agreeing with her on practically anything. And was she texting on her phone? He thought. Has she got someone more important than the president to reach out to? Whatever he didn't want to put more thought into it; he'd rather just watch her. His mind quickly noticed her white stockings and was drawn to them, despite making an effort not to be caught looking.
Knowing that white was one of her stronger colors, she was wearing a white skirt, pink blouse and a light white, summer, jacket, in addition to her attention-getting stockings. As she took a seat across the desk from the president, she leaned back and crossed her legs.
She demurely bit her lower lip as she smiled and began to speak, "Thank you for seeing me, Mr. President, I was hoping to show you my proposal on the latest farmers' relief bill so you'd be versed on it for the discussion tomorrow with all of the advisors and committee members."
"Well, Miss Alexander," he began but paused.
His pause was caused by her putting her finger to her lips as if to shush him.
He wouldn't stand for this, despite that bright red lipstick looking so sexy, he thought. He'd take control of this meeting right now, "Miss Alexander," he said a little louder.
This time she quickly responded, "Sir, please feel free to call me Simone when we're alone; everyone does."
"Simone," he repeated as she eagerly nodded.
"Very well, Simone," he continued, "I don't need to see that; the White House staff has no doubt gone through it and decided what we can accept and what we can't, and they'll go over all of that with you and the others tomorrow morning."
Just then there was a light knock on the office door.
Surprised, the president looked at the door, knowing no one else should be coming by tonight.
The door opened and Kristin Jacobson entered the room saying, "Good evening Mr. President. It's just me, your favorite senator," she joked. "Simone just texted that you two were starting."
"How?" he began to ask as he stood.
"Oh don't worry, I was thoroughly searched by your security boys," she smiled. "I came in with the representative a while ago and just made a quick stop in the ladies' room."
"Fine," he responded. "So are you here for the same thing? Because I've already answered Miss..."
"Now, now," She interrupted teasingly, "Remember we decided I'm Simone."
"Yes, yes," he stammered.
Simone looked to Kristin to speak, "He explained that his advisors are the ones who will decide. He can't do it on his own."
"Oh," Kristin responded disappointingly.
Now the president was getting frustrated, "That's not what I said."
"It's not?" Simone looked at him quizzically. "I thought you said your advisors were the ones to look at it and decide."
"Well, I said that they had, I mean, uh, but that doesn't mean I can't." He tried to explain, barely making sense even to himself.
"God, it has been a long day," he thought as he began admiring Simone again; she was well aware of the effects she was having on him both physically and verbally.
Kristin broke into the conversation, "I'm confused; can he look at these or not?"
President Williams turned toward Kristin's voice and saw that she was placing a few sheets on the table. He also noticed for the first time that she was in a sleeveless royal blue dress, or was that a minidress? And though, as a male he didn't usually think of these things, he couldn't help but notice that the dress, along with her blonde hair, tight figure and high heels made for quite a stunning image.
Subconsciously he needed to show his power.
"Of course I can look at that," he said, "Nobody tells me what I can and can't look at."
From behind him as he began walking towards Kristin and the table, while Simone winked at the senator, who gave an almost imperceivable smile.
The senator suggested, "Mr. President, why don't you have a seat on the sofa and we'll go over the proposal?" as she waved her hand towards the sofa.
As he turned toward the sofa, he saw Simone slowly beginning to unbutton her jacket.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, feeling how inappropriate this was.
Innocently, Simone quietly answered, "Mr. President, it's August, and it's so warm outside. And we have a long proposal to show you..."
As she spoke she continued unbuttoning the jacket, but in an almost painfully slow way, at least for her audience of one. She would take each button, finger it around slowly, then gently ease it through its buttonhole. She would then allow the jacket to open a bit as her hand eased down an inch or two and repeated the process.
Of course she knew exactly what she was doing, but she was confident enough to believe that she had given a reasonable explanation. Well, maybe not reasonable, she thought, but at least plausible enough.
"I'm just getting a little more comfortable," she finished in her sweetest voice. "Why don't you come on over and we'll get this over with?"
With this her jacket fell completely open and she eased out of it, allowing a slow, slight forward thrust of her chest to insure that the president's attention was focused there. That is, if it wasn't already. She lay her jacket on the edge of the sofa and sat, leaving an obvious place for the president next to her in the center of the sofa.
Any hesitation he may have had was undone as those luscious legs and stockings crossed and she patted her hand on the sofa showing him where to come sit.
He went over and sat down. He was close enough to enjoy what views he could get out of his peripheral vision; he obviously couldn't stare directly, but he liked being close to her; he was so close he could even smell her somewhat intoxicating perfume.
As the senator moved to the chair across from them, Harvey couldn't help notice that she was also in stockings, although hers were black.
"Damn," he thought. Here he was with the two hottest women in congress, and they wanted to talk about some farmers' relief bill that he was sure his staff had already studied. "Hell," his thought continued, "They had probably already prepared a response."
"Oh well," he thought, "What can it hurt to listen?"
The senator began speaking and mentioned that there were several parts to the bill. She discussed how many people it would help and added that recent polls had found some support for that aspect.
Simone's heel began to dangle off of her foot and as it moved side to side in an almost hypnotic motion, and both women noticed where Harvey's attention had gone. With his attention focused on Simone's heels, Kristin went over the cost of that part of the program. She knew that would be his biggest objection so all the better for him not to be paying any attention.
Simone finally reached down and placed her foot back into the heel just as Kristin began talking about the second aspect of the bill.
Harvey looked back up as she talked about funding something; he wasn't even really sure what. He was instead focused on her blue dress. Something was different, wasn't it? Had she undone once of the buttons? He was seeing significant cleavage, much more than he had noticed earlier, at least that's what he thought. But when could she have done that? She was right in front of him the whole time. Had he been watching Simone's stocking clad feet long enough for her to have done that without his noticing?
While those thoughts bounced around inside of Harvey's head, he heard the senator.
"Now for the third point," she continued.
"Dammit," he thought, "I don't remember either of the first two. I should just leave and let my staff deal with this in the morning."
He turned to Simone while trying to think of an excuse to give her.
"I think I've had it for today." he told her, sounding more than a little apologetic.
She sympathetically looked into his eyes and nodded gently.
She leaned in and whispered, "It's alright, sir, we know it's late for a man of your age. We should just go. Maybe we'll give it a go with some of your younger staff, sir. Maybe they can last."
The worst kept secret in Washington was the president's insecurity about his age and she was playing this weakness like a violin.
"No, no, I didn't mean that. I mean, of course I can stay, I just, I just." He frustratingly tried to answer in a way in which he didn't sound weak but couldn't find the words.
"You what, sir?" Simone asked with apparent concern. "Are you hot? Tired? Sore? Please tell me."
Harvey was beside himself, "It's not that I'm not telling you, I just, I don't know..."
Rather than letting him work himself totally up, she interrupted, "Shhh. easy, sir. Everything's ok."
She began giving him a gentle temple massage while soothing him, "There, there, you're just a little overheated, right, sir?"
Despite it being August, she knew that temperature had little to do with his frustration. But she thought with her hands on his temple, his face near the pink silk on her chest, and his desire to explain away his perceived weakness, that he'd agree.
As expected, he seized upon that excuse, "Yes, that's it. It's this damn heat."
"Ok, we can fix that, sir, will you let us do that for you please?" she asked and nodded to encourage him to do the same.
He responded by nodding, and Simone began gently undoing his tie.
Rather than give him a chance to object, she continued whispering, "Here you go, sir, let's get you out of this stuffy tie. It's night time anyway, right, sir? So there's no need for this tie."
By now the tie was undone, and she was coaxing it out of his shirt collar by pulling it gently out of one side.
"Now, we'll undo a few of these buttons, sir? This shirt is probably pretty hot too; am I right?"
He was thoroughly enjoying this as she softly, yet methodically was unbuttoning his shirt.
And that voice, damn if he couldn't listen to that all night.
He leaned back and closed his eyes to enjoy this sensation, and the best he could do to reply was to manage to say "Mmm, hmm" every time he heard her say, "right?"
"You're probably usually in comfy pajamas by now, sir, is that right?"
He mumbled something unintelligible.
