Sneak Peek - In Service to the Senator
Updated: May 20, 2020
The bustle of the travelers inside of Los Angeles International Airport was especially brisk this particular morning. Several flights made their approach in such a manner that one would have thought they were in concert with each other, their synchronicity presenting the imagery of the most graceful ballet. The passengers of the flights groaned as they took a collective look at the potential bottleneck at the baggage claim area, a few of them not looking forward to having to jockey for position to get to their luggage before moving out into the city.
Outside in the reception area of the concourse, an anxious crowd awaited to greet their loved ones. As the weary travelers emerged from the higher security areas, some were swarmed, their embraces lending to the idea that it had been some considerable time since they’d seen one another. Others engaged in more intimate public displays of affection, so much so that some of the children’s eyes had to be shielded from the spectacle.
Not far away from where these reunions took place, a man sat silently in a corner, perusing the LA Times. To the untrained eye, it looked like the information in the paper had his complete attention. Even to someone trying to pay closer attention to him, it seemed he was completely oblivious to his surroundings. However, to the skilled professional, it was a rouse to shield his ability to people-watch and take note of the sea of faces as they hurried about toward their destinations.
Could he have been waiting for someone near and dear to him, too? The pensive expression awash over his face gave no indication, as he was content to remain as unassuming as possible. He continued to glance between the pages of the newspaper and the throngs of people consistently flowing from the concourse areas, waiting for someone—or possibly no one at all—but there was no real way to decipher the accurate assumption.
His eyes widened as a striking brunette with blond highlights, dressed in her flight attendant’s uniform, emerged from the escalator, her red-bottomed heels and small suitcase dragging in her hands. Her strides were long and graceful, her gait reminiscent of a dancer or model’s rhythm. It was almost arrogant, but a regal type of arrogance, one that caused stares in her direction, whether she meant them to occur or not.
He found it odd that a flight attendant would be adorned in such stylish, extravagant footwear; the salary would not have supported such a purchase without hardship. He didn’t rule out the possibility of a benefactor who might have indulged her shoe fetish, either, but he was almost certain that the third option in his mind made her the person of interest he’d been pursuing.
Just by admiring her figure, the assumption would turn to the fact that she was very conscious of her appearance—perhaps a fitness model in her spare time—and a closer attention to detail would showcase a specific “tautness” to her figure. He was especially enchanted by the richness of her skin tone, its mocha-latte bronzed radiance evoking the possibility that she was returning from the Polynesian paradise mere hours away from the “city of angels.”
If her legs and ample assets didn’t capture the imagination, the swell of her breasts—pert and no larger than a C cup, perhaps—would more than make up for the fantasies that could be conjured while in a brief moment of isolation. If he were honest with himself, it would almost be criminal to not indulge in such a guilty pleasure. As far as he was concerned, she had a body built for pleasure, but that was not what he was there to observe.
His objective now in sight, he left the newspaper on the chair, beginning his pursuit. Perhaps she didn’t spot him as she made her way to the parking garage. However, he didn’t close the distance between them, ensuring that she was not alerted to his presence, at least not yet. He couldn’t stop ogling at the sway in her tight, round hips as she quickly made her way to her car. It was nearly hypnotic, casting a spell he was unsure he could escape from.
After placing her suitcase in the trunk and slipping into the driver’s seat, she loosened her hair, tossing the rubber hand that tied her luxurious mane into the pony tail she needed to perform her duties out the window. It was her transition protocol; her way to move from the professional woman flying the friendly skies to the wanton slut, ready to fulfill her Sir’s desires, foreign or familiar.
Her cell phone diverted her attention from the meticulous application of the makeup on her face, her lips widening into a smile over the person trying to get in touch with her. She tried to synchronize between finishing her makeup to make sure she was absolutely stunning for him with answering her phone at the last possible moment to hear his voice. She was aroused at the mere thought, squeezing her thighs together to quell the heat she knew was rising to the surface.
To her dismay, she was unable to answer before the call dropped. She was a bit nervous once the voicemail alert sounded off, but those fears were soothed once she heard the smooth, baritone sound of his voice. Daddy loves you, can’t wait to see you, sexy. My aide already has the room ready for your arrival, and I’ll be there within the hour. Make sure you prepare my property in the manner that I know you’re capable of.
The missed call—the last one that she would receive—was from her newlywed husband, Senator Terrell Warren. Instead of returning the phone call, she placed her phone on the passenger seat. Within minutes, she was on the I-405, oblivious to the black Chevy Colorado pickup shadowing her.
During the brief drive to the hotel in downtown LA, she had time to muse and fondly reminisce over their whirlwind romance. As she thought about it, she couldn’t help but smile and marvel at how far they’d come and how fast the journey had taken so far. Her head was still swirling from the sheer force of nature that was the love of her life.
She met her husband a little over a year ago, at about thirty-five thousand feet. She was on a private charter, scheduled to take the senator to a charity to which he was to be the keynote speaker. She realized who she would be flying with, but she only knew from what she’d read about. He was a war hero, the son of a former assistant Defense Secretary, and had developed quite a following himself, slowly stepping from his father’s shadow. Some circles publicly pondered if he would seek the Oval Office himself in time if, as many had surmised, he and his running mate, Secretary of State Jerry Yeager, win the election.
From the moment he boarded, she was in awe of him. He seemed to be enthralled by her, too, but she was so mesmerized that she didn’t realize the feelings were mutual. She didn’t think he would be interested; after all, he was forty-two and she was a couple of months shy of the “big 3-0.”
However, there was something she couldn’t explain, something that compelled her in ways that confused her. It turned her on, igniting every erogenous zone she was aware of, and even spots she wasn’t. Every time he requested something of her during the flight, she couldn’t move fast enough to fulfill it. That smile, the way he responded when he thanked her for complying with his whims, she could have floated higher than the clouds they were already soaring through.
Despite that, there was an instant connection, though he did not make his intentions overt during the flight. He kept himself busy jotting down notes for his speech as she kept herself busy reading between completing tasks to pass the time. She was curious about the stares she got from his senior aide, who introduced herself to her as Lea. The way she stared at her—she couldn’t figure out whether it was lust or jealousy that kept her eyes affixed on her every move.
While he continued about his business, his wife-to-be tortured herself, trying to figure out whether she should play hard to get or if she should exercise her feministic rights to take what she wanted. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, stealing glances wherever she could, not realizing that he was stealing his own glimpses while scribbling on his stationery.
By the time the flight touched down, regret washed over her, an opportunity to find out more about the handsome senator slipping from her fingers as the jet taxied toward the waiting limousine. She tried to muster the courage to discreetly leave her number for him to call her, but she didn’t want to come off as desperate or too forward, even when most women would ha