I trudged through the West Wing to my bedroom. It was an ornate affair that had come to feel like home these last six years. I'd lived here longer than anywhere else since I moved out of my parents home to start college. Another two years, and I'd have to move again. I nodded to the two secret service agents guarding my door, then opened it, and the slipped inside my dark bedroom. My feet throbbed. I had taken off my shoes hours ago but my ankles still felt swollen. I sighed as I unbuttoned my blouse. I moved through my room, dropping it carelessly on the floor. Moonlight bled through homemade the closed curtains. I could never have my bedroom curtains open. Even with the bullet resistant glass and the legion of snipers and guards on all the roofs that could see into my bedroom, it was too much of a security risk for me to open them. I took off my skirt and panties, my cock swaying soft between my thighs. I stumbled to my bed, my eyes blurry. I just wanted to pour myself into bed and get a few hours of sleep before I had to be up for the morning briefing. Tomorrow was going to suck. I had to go to meet with Senator Olson and the delegation from Congress to brief them on the new world constitution. I pulled back my covers, about to slip in and... There was someone sleeping in my bed. A girl, naked, her hair's hue hard to tell in the dark. Maybe brown. It spilled across her face as she slept on her side. She stirred and wiggled her shoulders. It took me a moment to realize who this must be. The virgin. I sighed, my dick stirring at the sight of indian her. I could just see her small breasts through the gaps of her arms folded up before her. Her breathing was soft. I pushed back her hair from her cheeks, staring at her. She was so young. I was nearly forty-four, more than twice her age. But she was eighteen. A woman now. My thoughts drifted from him, to her. Then she pulled her hands away from her tits, shaking her head. Lucy’s cook had grilled a big slab of sirloin just the way I liked it—medium rare—with baked potatoes and fresh indian string beans from one of the local farms. I certainly was not expecting this. I’m up here;” with an arrow pointing up to my face. "You never answered me Sasha" Mr Riley said again as he continued to rub her clit and pump a finger inside of her. Finally, homemade they let the degraded teen shuffle through the elevator doors. "Her father is here." I eventually decide to call it quits for the night. I kicked off my shoes and socks. I see a news van pull up and get out with a cameraman and a reporter. They would tear him apart for this. Cindy replied that she was on her way. Amy feigned ignorance of the morning excitement. She aroused from her deep sleep and muttered, “Do you have time for a quickie before you go?” She reached for his cock, which was already hard, and rubbed it gently.