9:48 am
Heather’s heart was racing like a deranged metronome. Time was her enemy, and the life of her mayoral campaign was fading away with each passing second.
Fuck the campaign! My entire life will be in ruins if those pictures get out!
Guiding her Audi onto the expressway, she slammed the sole of her five-inch stiletto onto the pedal and the rapid acceleration forced her back into the seat as the needle raced beyond 90. Frantically weaving through traffic, she split her gaze between the cars flying by and the estimated time of arrival illustrated on her GPS.
10:05 am
Son of a bitch! Three minutes to park and five more to reach her office meant she would arrive as Trish received the mail. She was going to be late. Briefly, Heather hoped her campaign manager would also be late, but Trish lived her life with a Marine Corps sense of punctuality. Heather knew she would be there, right on time.
Fuck!
Braking, she slowed as the traffic ahead snarled around a pair of trucks. Her mad dash paused, she searched desperately until a gap appeared between the vehicles. It was the briefest of openings but Heather timed it perfectly, accelerating into the open lane ahead.
Her mind was ablaze with possibilities. Would she be able to keep Trish from opening the envelope and finding the next batch of incriminating photos? Even if she did, could she keep her from growing suspicious? It was possible Trish might even help her contain the scandal. Then again, she might not. She’d been hurt when Heather broke things off — but time seemed to have healed that wound.
Had the pictures been of anything else, Heather knew Trish would be the consummate professional she was hired to be, but these weren’t just any pictures. Heather had been caught fucking Sean, and that particular bit of indiscretion might well push Trish into a rage. Fuck! Why did it have to be Sean! Holy Christ.
It was bad enough that he was her opposition in the race, but Sean was also Trish's fraternal twin and the two hadn't spoken in years. This could trap Trish in a scandal involving everyone she ever loved. Heather couldn't imagine anything that would make her feel more betrayed. The more Heather thought about it, the more certain she became that Trish would go berserk.
Heather swept aside her grim contemplation as she pulled into her space. As quickly as a woman in heels can run, she dashed for the elevator, determined to somehow intercept her blackmailer’s envelope before Trish got her hands on it. The wait while the lift rose seventeen floors felt interminable. By the time it pinged, and the doors slid apart, Heather’s gut was wrenching in fear.
Of course, Trish was on time and she’d retrieved the morning mail by the time Heather left the elevator. As part of her duties, she habitually separated piles of junk mail from her boss’s important correspondence. Most of these were easy to identify, coming from familiar donors or various media outlets covering the race.
In the stack was a large, manila envelope lacking a return address. To Trish, this would be suspicious in any event, but when addressed to a mayoral candidate, it was downright ominous. She contemplated opening it but hesitated as she remembered Heather having a similar envelope just a day earlier. She was fingering the seal when her boss bustled into the room.
Taken aback, Trish eyed her friend with a familiarity shared only by lovers. Even though it had been years since they were intimate, she instinctively knew something was seriously amiss. Heather was visibly unsettled, but more worrisome was the tangible glint of fear in her piercingly green eyes.
“Hey, are you okay? You look like someone just walked over your grave.”
Groaning inwardly, Heather silently cursed Trish’s notoriously persistent curiosity. Fighting to compose herself, she offered a wave as dismissive as she could muster “Thanks, Trish,” she replied. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, really. The campaign is starting to get to me, that’s all.”
Setting the envelope aside, Trish held Heather’s hand and skeptically regarded her friend. Something had been off with Heather for days, and her concern flared into a deeper suspicion. Clenching her jaw, Trish’s brown eyes bored into Heather’s.
“Bullshit, I know you too well to believe that. You’ve been an emotional mess these last few days and I want to know what the hell is going on. Don’t you dare tell me it’s the campaign. There’s something else happening here and I know you too damn well for you to pretend otherwise.”
Heather’s stomach knotted as Trish’s perceptive gaze burned into her. Her campaign manager was like a bulldog when she caught the scent of trouble. With her so close to seeing those explicit images of her fucking Sean, desperation clawed at Heather’s throat. What happened next was due as much to her survival instinct as a latent desire for her friend.
With Trish’s hand hot on hers, Heather pulled her close, her arm circling around Trish’s neck. Kissing her hard, she allowed her fear to reignite the burning heat she once felt for her former lover.
Shocked to her core, Trish stiffened, trying in vain to resist Heather’s advance. For a single heartbeat, Heather feared she might actually pull away, but just as she had so many years before, Trish’s svelte body relaxed, easily succumbing to Heather’s will.
Returning the kiss with a nearly-forgotten passion, Trish’s lips slid over Heather’s, inviting her tongue into her mouth and flicking it with her own. Their breathing became heated, laboring deeply as they again roused to the sensual touch of another woman’s body.
Not since the breakup had Heather sought to rekindle their affair, but once that desire was released, there was no turning back. Gliding her hands over Trish’s ass, she dug her nails into her flesh and Trish groaned.
“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” Trish whispered, panting even as Heather unbuttoned her blouse.
A wickedly mischievous glint flashed in Heather’s eyes as she paused to lock the door. “Maybe we shouldn’t. But, with the door locked, we’re not going to be disturbed.”
Heather’s unexpected aggression had Trish reeling, but then Heather had always been a shameless slut. It had been so long since Trish had fallen under Heather’s spell that her will to resist evaporated like the morning dew. With her ass pressed against Heather’s desk, she could respond only with her own, passionate kiss. Without further complaint, Trish surrendered to Heather as her blouse was slid off her shoulders.
Leaning back, she hissed as Heather flipped up her bra, uncovering her pert, upturned breasts. “Damn, Heather. You always knew how to make me wet. And to think I thought you were in trouble.”
Heather grinned around Trish's nipple before letting it pop from her lips. “Oh, I’m not in any trouble, Trish. I just couldn’t keep pretending I didn’t want you. Bob’s a great fuck, but I missed sucking on these tits.” With a playful smirk, Heather buried her face in Trish’s cleavage, tasting her for the first time in far too many years.
Trish cradled Heather to her breasts, cooing in pleasure as she nipped and sucked on her tender buds. Scrambling to strip, she became lost in this sudden reunion with her long ago lover.
Gone, for the moment, was any thought of the mysterious envelope.
Heather read her like a book, inwardly rejoicing that she had so effectively covered her trail. Still, her lust for Trish was burning like coal in her belly and her pussy was oozing juice as she slipped out of her skirt. Crazy as it was for her to fuck Trish right there in her office, she had no intention of letting her get away. With her head hugged to Trish’s breast, Heather lifted Trish's skirt and slid a hand inside her panties. Curling her fingers, she spread Trish’s labia, plunging her fingers knuckle-deep into the hot and steamy hole.
Gasping, Trish clenched her teeth as Heather fucked her hard, driving her long digits as deeply into her as she could reach. The dual attack on her body was overwhelming. Hot sensations exploded from her nipples, coursing through her until the itch in her sex became unbearable. With Heather’s fingers stirring inside her, Trish rolled her hips as the need to feel them on her clit increased.
Heather devoured her breasts. sucking her pale skin while stretching her open until Trish’s legs began to tremble. By then, Trish was simply holding on as her ability to remain standing became doubtful. Sensing she was ready, Heather spun Trish around and bent her over the desk.
Splayed out, face down, Trish spread her thighs, raising her ass in lurid invitation. When Heather's lips fluttered over her silky cheeks, Trish moaned in eager anticipation, "Oh, fuck, Heather. Please don't make me wait. Lick me, baby. I need your tongue inside me.”
Heather dragged her fingertips over Trish’s tender skin, lightly scratching down the small of her back and over the rise of her ass. Trish shuddered, quivering with need as Heather teased her unmercifully. Licking a finger, she probed Trish's rose, tickling it with evil intent. "Do you like that, baby? You aren't into cock, so I bet you've never let a guy fuck you like this."
At that thought, Trish's breath caught in her throat, Heather giggled and mischievously pushed inside until Trish clenched tightly around her finger.
"That's just my middle finger, but you can barely take it, can you?"
Trish's cheek was pressed into the desk as she shook her head. "Damn, it does feel thick. I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. Bob's turned you into a nasty little bitch, hasn't he?"
Heather’s laugh was nothing but a whisper. “Yes, he has. Now, let me tell you a little secret: I love it when he fucks me in my ass. His cock is huge compared to my finger and he stretches me until I want to scream. I want you to think about that. I want you to imagine what he would feel like inside you now."
Trish whined, knowing what was going to happen even before Heather forced her finger through her ring. Her ass resisted, closing hard around its invader until Heather began turning it inside her. Worry flashed in her mind as the friction began to burn, but then she felt the warm moisture of Heather’s tongue swirling around her puckered hole.
"Oh, my God, Heather. That feels so fucking good."
Heather eagerly continued rimming her rose while sliding her finger in and out of Trish’s relaxing grip. "Maybe I should give you to Bob. I’m sure he would love to be your first. Do you think you could take him? I’d love to see you squirm while he took your little brown cherry."
Trish's blood was boiling and, fearing Heather might actually want her to do it, couldn’t find the will to respond. The softness of Heather’s tongue flicking over her butt was unlike anything she'd felt before, and it made the sting in her ass feel strangely satisfying. She needed to come but was so enthralled by Heather’s touch that she might let her have her ass for as long as she desired.
With her asshole surrendering to its master, Heather plunged her finger without resistance. Trish was already overcome with lust and when Heather flicked her tongue lower, she squealed in delight.
