Access Excess And Andy Ch 03

There is a certain prestige in doing a congressman's dirty work. You gain a reputation around the Capitol as a guy not be to screwed with. However, there are times when that role throws up situations that are just plain strange.

As effectively Russell's right-hand man, a lot of the jobs I got were just things he did not want to do himself. When tasking me with these he would normally start the conversation with "Alex, here's something you'll enjoy," his face covered with an evil grin. On this occasion, the grin was even more wicked as he continued "The Congressman wants to hold a fundraiser at the Mayflower Hotel in Austin. The owner is a big donor, but she's holding out on donating the venue. I need you to go to the ballet with her tonight and convince her. There's a tuxedo hire place on East Capitol. You better get going, her limo will pick you up in an hour." I stood up and ran out of the office.

When I returned 50 minutes later dressed in a tuxedo, Russell put his hand on my shoulder and said "Now do whatever you need to do to convince her, got it?" I nodded and he directed me to go stand out on the street where I would be collected. As I walked out the door, I heard him burst into laughter.

Right on time a black stretch limo pulled up in front of me and the back door swung open. I looked inside and was relieved to see my target, Mrs Clara Emerson-Southfield. Russell had helpfully handed me a bio so I knew she was sixty-four, a multi-millionaire hotel magnate, a widow and a mega-donor for progressive causes, especially women's health. I extended my hand and said "Hello Mrs Emerson-Southfield. I'm Alex. Pleased to meet you."

She took my hand and shook it, then waved me into the limo and said in a refined Southern accent "Call me Clara. Now Russell tells me you are a great fan of the ballet." I was actually a ballet fan, but I had never discussed it with Russell, so I nodded. Clara continued. "Now there is a little meet-and-greet before if you don't mind being seen on the arm of an old lady." I must have looked surprised, because she patted me on the arm and said "Don't worry, it was just a joke."

As we drove towards the Kennedy Center I studied my host out of the corner of my eye. She was a very attractive woman, and not just for her age. Her face was angular, with high cheekbones and only slight wrinkles. Her blond hair was tied up in a twist, leaving exposed a long neck and a fair expanse of cleavage before the red evening gown started. As we pulled up at our destination, I could not help taking a look at her surprisingly toned backside as she stepped out of the car.

I swung myself out of the limo and indeed took Clara's arm as we walked into the theatre. As we walked I said, "Clara, I was hoping we could discuss holding an event at your hotel in Austin."

Clara gave a dismissive wave of her hand and said "We can talk about that later darlin'." I did not want to push the point, so I left it and pretty soon Clara was whirling me around the pre-show reception as she talked non-stop at a dozen different people. As the bells toned for the beginning of the show Clara and I made our way to her box. I pulled open the program and was only mildly surprised to discover Clara was the principal sponsor of the production.

The show itself was very impressive. It was a modern dance take on a Persian tragic poem Khosrow and Shirin. The dancing and music were mesmerising. When it came to intermission I tried again to raise the event, but Clara dismissed the topic and once more started mingling with the high-end theatregoers, with me in tow.

We took our seats again for the remainder of the show. About five minutes in, to my surprise, I felt Clara's hand come to rest on my thigh. I did not know what to do, so I kept watching the dancers as her manicured fingernails started making little circles on the fabric of my pants. The combination of the beautiful women contorting their amazing bodies before me and the sensation on my leg had me very aroused by the end of the production. I half expected Clara to go further, but she seemed content with just gently caressing me.

As soon as the curtain came down for the last time Clara started to make her way downstairs. I followed, expecting that we were going to the main lobby. However, Clara turned the other way, through a door that was opened by a staff member for her and pretty soon we were in the backstage area. Clara made the rounds of the dancers, congratulating them on their performance. She shook the hand of the artistic director firmly as she sang the praises of the production to the assembled cast, then gave the principal dancer a hug. Congratulations done, she extended her arm once more for me to take and said "Well, young Alex. You better take this old lady home."

We walked arm-in-arm back to her limo and I helped her back inside. When we were seated she pulled open a small fridge and handed me a bottle of Champagne. I dutifully popped the cork and poured us each a glass. She raised hers for me to clink and said "To an amazing production." She then lifted a phone beside the seat and said into it "Okay Andrew. We can go."

As the car started to move I took a sip and decided to have one more go at asking about the event, so said "Clara. I really need to talk to you about using your hotel."

Clara raised her eyebrow at me and said with a deadpan straight face "You can use my hotel if you lick my cunt." I know my mouth dropped open in surprise that such language would come out of the mouth of a wealthy socialite and looked at the partition that separated us from the driver. Without any change in her demeanour, Clara repeated "You heard me, boy. If you want my hotel you better get down on the floor right now and lick my cunt."

I instantly realised why Russell had been laughing and why he had given me the instruction to do whatever it took. I figured it was not such a great cost. She was a very attractive woman after all and I liked the dirty talk. I finished my drink in one mouthful, then got on my knees on the floor of the limo and turned to face Clara. She spread her legs to put them on either side of me and lay back on her seat.

I took the hem of her dress in my hands and lifted it up her legs. I was greeted with a pair of shapely calves and thighs. Her skin was smooth and generally unblemished, with only the occasional spot. As I exposed her hips I expected to find a pair of granny panties. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised to discover Clara was wearing a red lace thong. I took hold of the sides of the garment and pulled it down and off past her shoes. When I returned to her groin I was again surprised to find a nicely trimmed covering of grey hair over her pussy.

I leant forward and ran my tongue experimentally up Clara's slit. The moment I made contact with her skin, Clara's hand grabbed the back of my head and held it in place. I started working away, testing her reactions to certain things. I pushed my tongue inside her and she moaned "That's it, boy. Make me nice and wet. I don't make much of my own lubrication these days." I concentrated on that for a while then shifted my focus up to her clit. It did not take long for the grip on the back of my head to tighten and for Clara to yell "That's it. You're making me cum you little mother-fucker."

Clara's body tensed up and she almost ripped my ear off my head as she climaxed. When she had stopped thrashing I straightened up and looked at her sprawled across the bench seat of the limo. Her immaculately done hair was coming undone and her face was sweaty. She raised her eyebrow again and said "Well, are you going to fuck me?"

My cock was trying its best to burst through my fly so I figured in for a penny, in for a pound. As I pulled my pants down around my knees Clara slipped her dress off her shoulders, revealing a pair of recently added surgically enhanced C-cups sitting on her narrow chest. As my cock came into view, she gave it a hungry look, then lay back again. I raised myself up and brought my cock to rest against her pouting pussy and started to slowly push inside. When my pubic hair made contact with hers, she pulled my face down to her breasts and said "Fuck me as hard as you can. It's the only way I can feel it these days."

I started thrusting furiously while I licked and sucked her nipples. Clara was making small grunting noises with each thrust, which got progressively louder. Her pussy was by far the loosest I had very been in, so I was not having trouble keeping up the pace. Clara's grunts suddenly turned into squeals, then she yelled "I'm fucking cumming! You're making me fucking cum you mother fucker! Fill my old cunt with your hot young cum! Fuck!"

As Clara writhed under me I followed her direction and emptied my balls inside her. I lifted myself off her and flopped down on the seat beside her. She lifted the phone on the armrest beside her and said "Andrew. Let's drop Alex home." Ten seconds later the car stopped. I pulled my pants back up and opened the door to find I was in front of my house. Russell must have told her where I lived and the limo had been driving around my block while Clara and I finished off our engagement. I looked back at Clara who was still sitting with her breasts and groin exposed. She gave me a dismissive wave which said I could go. As I started to close the door beside me she called out "Tell Russell I'll throw in the catering because you did such a good job." Russell gave me a big slap on the back when I told him that the next day.