"For fucks sake, where do they get these incompetent girls, Lauren sort her out please," the photographer groaned. Lauren strode over and kneeled down...in front of Joanna. Noticing the tears starting to well up, she whispered, "Don't take it to heart, you definitely are sexy." Joanna had to admit, there was something about Lauren that made everything she said sound good. Hearing those words however, made her feel strange, almost enticed. Lauren began to slowly undo Joanna's bikini top and pull. There was nothing more that could be done.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. By the time she finished he was sitting perfectly still, staring blankly at the floor. ‘I wondered why everyone was looking at me funny,’ he eventually said. ‘They must expect me to fly into a jealous rage any second.’ She gave him a reassuring pat on the knee. ‘It’s just talk. As long as no one actually involved is saying anything then there’s not much we can do but wait for it to blow over.’ They heard a noise from the aisle and both turned to see one of the young photographers standing. I saw the woman, she was walking around in a long fur coat, it was open and she had on a bra and panty set that barely covered anything. She had a flogger, it was long and black. She had a deep authoritative tone to her voice. The closer she got to us, the more nervous I was getting. He was enjoying it. He could see I was getting more and more apprehensive about doing this. He leaned over and told me to relax, and he was sure I would not disappoint him. She came to the table and they spoke.
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