All in a Day's Work

By Nomi

Sam was waiting for me in my office when I got back at 4:30 from my meeting on the Hill.

"Hey, J."

"Hey," I responded, smiling for the first time since I left him this morning. The day had sucked beyond belief until right now: I had gotten "combative" - Senator Skinner's word, not mine - in more than one meeting this afternoon, and this had followed on a pointless meeting this morning with members of the House Ways and Means Committee regarding something that I had no memory of but that I knew I'd be called upon to report on at this afternoon's staff meeting. So coming back and finding Sam in my office, sitting in my desk chair with his shoes off and his feet on my desk, I figured the afternoon had nowhere to go but up.

I'd been on the go since I'd gotten in that morning, and I still tire quickly since the shooting. So I was dead on my feet, and Sam could tell.

He quickly stood up, came over to where I was in my office doorway, drew me into my office, closed the door, and steered me into my chair.

"What do you have on tap for the rest of the afternoon?" he asked me.

"Oh, nothing until the senior staff meeting at 6. I've got some stuff to read over that Donna has left for me." I gestured at the pile of file folders on my desk. "It's about...carpal tunnel syndrome, I think. It's her new pet cause."

Sam started clearing the file folders off my desk and placing them - in their same piles - on the floor, even grabbing files that I was about to read.

"Uh...love? What'cha doin'?"

"Giving you something to get you through the rest of the day. Don't interrupt." Sam finished with the files and started moving my desk supplies around, moving them onto other surfaces around my office. Finally, with a flourish, he removed my blotter, leaving my desk totally clear.

"C'mon, Josh, stand up."

I did. I quickly got the idea that Sam was driving this...whatever it was going to be, and I was burnt out enough not to worry about what he was up to and interested enough to see where he was going.

As soon as I was vertical, Sam started stripping off my clothing. I put up a token protest, but I quickly relented to his ministrations. We've gotten good at covering up in-office liaisons, and, anyway, Donna and Cathy are good about keeping people away when they see either of our doors closed. Especially if Sam's blinds are closed...providing we remembered to close the blinds. There was that one time...but that's a story for another time.

There are times it's tough being involved with a raging exhibitionist. But I digress.

Anyway.

Sam quickly stripped me down to just my boxers and socks. "C'mon, Josh, up on the desk."

I climbed up on my desk and lay down on my back so that my feet were hanging off the edge but I was still stable. I heard Sam open the top drawer of my desk, rummage toward the back, and then retrieve what he was looking for. I keep a random assortment of...stuff...in my desk that might be interesting Sam at this time, so I was curious what he was looking for.

He came back out with something I'd forgotten I'd squirreled away - a feather.

"You're too tense, Josh. I keep telling you that." As Sam spoke, he climbed up onto the desk with me, straddling me. It's a good thing that I have a wide desk, or one or both of us would've ended up on the floor.

Starting at the top of my head and working his way down, he trailed the feather over my exposed skin, not enough to tickle, but enough to make my skin tingle. I tried not to moan - there's some soundproofing on my office, and it's not like Donna didn't have a clue as to what we were up to, but I can get kinda loud, or so I've been told - but it wasn't easy. I was still wearing my boxers, but I was so hard that I was surprised I hadn't torn through the fabric.

As Sam worked his way down, he followed the trail of the feather with his lips. And since he was staging a dual assault, the sensations were building too rapidly for my brain to process. All I knew was that if Sam didn't do something soon, I'd need to change my boxers before the staff meeting.

Sensing my distress, Sam stopped moving the feather - but not his lips - long enough to strip my boxers down to my knees. He then continued the feather's trail, up and down my shaft and around the head of my cock, which was already glistening. As I lost my tenuous hold on my sanity and my voice, I moaned loud enough that Ainsley probably heard me in the basement. Hearing this, Sam took my cock in his mouth and started using the feather on my inner thighs.

The sensation was too much, and within just a couple of seconds, I was coming hot and hard into the back of Sam's throat. After a few final licks, Sam sat up and pulled me into a sitting position as well. I maneuvered so that my legs were hanging down off my desk, then stood up and pulled my boxers back up.

"Well, that was different," I said once I had my breathing back under control. I take longer since I was shot, and Sam gets very panicky when I start to cough, so I try to wait until I can get out a full sentence when I talk to him.

"All in a day's work," Sam said, climbing off my desk.

"Then you have much more interesting days than I do," I replied with a leer. I waited a beat, then walked over to where he was standing and folded him into a hug. "Thanks, love. I really did need that."

"You haven't slowed down since you came back," Sam said. "I worry about you. Why do you think I've been following you around to meetings? It's not just 'cause I like staring at your ass, though that _is_ one perk."

"Don't worry so much, love," I said as I got dressed again. My tie had gone somewhere I hadn't quite figured out. Oh, well. I'll find it eventually. "You're always there to make sure I don't overdo."

"All in a day's work," Sam repeated as he left my office.

I wondered what would happen if I insisted on coming back to my office after the staff meeting.

I smiled again as I contemplated the possibilities.

---END---