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Subject: {ASSM} New Nessus:Protection7/18
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This story is intended for the enjoyment of adults over the age of 18 or 
whatever the legal age is in your part of the universe. It contains fantasy 
scenes of graphic sexual activity.   Please, if you are under the age of 18, 
or if you may be offended by such material, use your intelligence and read 
no further - delete the file.  Otherwise ....enjoy!


Protection
Book One of a Political Saga

By

Nessus


Chapter Seven

Chorister had arranged for a car to pick Jennifer and myself up with our 
bags to drive us to the airport. We travelled in silence and, in fact, when 
we were alone, we were completely silent. In public, the performance took 
over and Jennifer slipped into the role of the loving supportive wife who 
was so proud of her brave husband for standing up for what was right. The 
media lapped it up.

I read the speeches that I was given and I noticed that there were always 
references to Jennifer and how she was my soul mate who had, just by her own 
example, influenced me into making the decision to vote for the Bill.

Jennifer would smile modestly, blow me a shy little kiss and the flash guns 
exploded to take that picture to the front page of every newspaper and, of 
course, onto the cover of every women's magazine in the world.

As the week dragged on, I realised more and more that this exercise was not 
about promoting me but aimed at increasing Jennifer's profile. By the end of 
the week, the crowds were more interested in hearing what she had to say 
than listening to me. I didn't care, I just wanted this week to end.

Towards the end of the week, we were returning from a function and I was 
tired but Jennifer seemed full of energy. My cock was pulsing constantly by 
now after all the stroking and caressing Jennifer had inflicted on me for 
the cameras. I'm sure she knew it was driving me crazy and it added an extra 
zest to her performance.

I undid my bow tie and sank back into the seat with a sigh. Jennifer was 
dressed in a sophisticated black cocktail dress with black nylons; the rasp 
of nylon against nylon when she crossed her legs had driven me crazy all 
night.

"One more night to go," she said, half to herself.

I was surprised she was talking to me. "And then what?" I asked and she 
turned to me, a mysterious smile on her beautiful face.

"Changes." She slid back in the seat and slowly opened her legs. There was 
tinted glass between the driver and ourselves so we had complete privacy in 
the darkened vehicle. I strained to see up her dress in the shadows but only 
caught a glimpse of her stocking tops. My cock jerked against its 
unforgiving prison at the thought of her wearing stockings.

"For old times sake," she murmured, reaching over and pulling my head 
towards her crotch.

"But, what if someone sees?" I protested, my head moving closer and I saw 
she wasn't wearing panties.

"It's dark," she said in a hoarse voice. "Kiss me."  Her hand forced me down 
to my knees and in a matter of seconds, I was servicing my wife in the back 
of the limousine as we sped through the city streets.

I licked and sucked at her pussy and, just as the vehicle pulled to a stop, 
she convulsed in her urgent orgasm. Quickly, she rearranged her dress and I 
scrambled to my feet, opening the door to the street.

As I fumbled for the key to our hotel room, Jennifer giggled. "The driver 
certainly stared at you," she laughed softly. "You've got me all over your 
face." Still laughing, she walked ahead of me and I sheepishly wiped my face 
with my handkerchief as we walked into the hotel lobby. There were media 
waiting so Jennifer quickly fell into her role and linked her arm through 
mine as she smiled and waved to the photographers. "If only they knew," she 
whispered out of the side of her mouth, "that minutes ago you were on your 
knees licking my pussy."

The tour wound up the next day and we flew back that evening, arriving at 
our town house late that night. Jennifer seemed tense but I thought no more 
about it until we walked in and found Chorister waiting for us in the lounge 
room.

"It's finished," I said and she nodded.

"That part is, time for the next part."

Jennifer poured herself a drink and stood against the mantelpiece watching. 
"Next part? What next part?" I demanded.

"You're going to get very sick."

"I beg your pardon?" Had I heard right?

"Ill, you're going to get very ill. Some kind of stroke, I think." Chorister 
produced her pistol and pointed it casually at me.

"You'll end up in a wheelchair," Jennifer said coldly. "A sad shadow of you 
former self but your dutiful wife will carry on. The media will love it, 
especially since they now know me so well."

"What are you talking about?" I said, on the verge of hysteria, as two women 
in white uniforms suddenly walked from the bedroom. "Who are these people?" 
I shouted and Chorister walked to me and seized my arm, the barrel of the 
pistol inches from my eyes.

"Don't make this more difficult than it is." She pushed me against the wall, 
her forearm pressed against my throat and I struggled for breath. It was 
then that I saw one of the women in white had a hypodermic needle and the 
other seized my wrist, exposing a vein.

"No!" I shouted as the needle was plunged into my wrist, it's contents 
injected into my body.

"Goodbye, Harvey," Jennifer said coldly, drained her drink and I slumped 
into darkness.

End Chapter Seven.
(Nessus29@hotmail.com)
Author's Note:
Thanks for reading. This is my most ambitious work to date and it has a 
strange plot, unfolding as I work and I'm interested to see if it all fits 
together at the end. I'm clear about the first book and there are ideas for 
a second. Time will tell.
As always, interested in your comments (nessus29@hotmail.com) and all other 
Nessus stories are archived at www.asstr-mirror.org
By the way, the title is from the Massive Attack song "Protection". It will 
all fit together at the end if you listen to the song.

_________________________________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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