Date: Tue, 14 Jul 2009 10:49:21 -0500
From: Klick Konner <klick.konner@gmail.com>
Subject: The Event III

As I awake, I find myself wrapped in the arms of the most magnificent
creature on the face of the earth, based on my personal experience thus far.
The rise and fall of his chest soothed me.  He smelled of imported soap,
subtle exotic cologne, and me.  I could actually smell myself on his skin.

"Aaron, the secret service will be joining us shortly.  Would you prefer to
be elsewhere when they arrive?"

I looked up at him dreamily.  I could not conjure up another time in my
entire life that I have ever felt so protected. "Bring them on..." I quipped
with abandon.

"Okay."

In they walked. Unbeknownst to me, he has a button.  A high-tech device that
he presses to allow access.  Otherwise, all the doors and windows remain
locked.  And there they all stood, around the bed.

Please keep in mind, I am naked and waking up, curled up, around another man
covered with a sheet, when three strapping, good looking suited men appear
in the room like a mist, then slowly turn solid.  All dressed alike.  Very
odd...

"Charles, this is Aaron Fawcett.  Clearance needs to be wrapped up by noon.
Is Ms Cunningham comfortable?"

Remember, I am lying naked, draped over the legs of this man who seems to
have a great deal of political influence, with three FBI looking men
straight out of central casting, surrounding the bed, zero expressions on
their faces.

I am fucking NAKED, and itıs a non-event.  "Hey." I said, lifting a hand,
then blushing crimson. , but then I was the one who said "bring them on..."

"Ms Cunningham is in very good hands, sir.  Hans is tending to her."

"Excellent Charles! Will there be anything else?"

"Yes sir.  Mr. Fawcett needs to be fingerprinted, sir."

This ranks right up there with the two most important points in my life.  I
was born.  I laid eyes on Kent last evening.  And now the secret service
wants to fingerprint me.

The scowl that crossed his face was palatable.  He looked me in the eye.  I
looked back, then I winked.  He cracked up!

"Aaron, you know Charles.  This is Lars. This is Drake.  Hans, you will meet
later.  Alright, Charles. Letıs be done with it, as quickly as possible."

Charles nodded at Drake, and Drake turned like a soldier breaking rank, took
two steps toward the window and drew back the draperies in one smooth
motion.  Indirect sunlight spilled through the windows with a perfectly
cornflower blue sky filling the expanse of glass, with only slight bruising
in the few wisps of clouds that had not burned away during the sunrise,
which we had missed.

A couple of doves flew east to west in the distance.  A hawk seemed to float
in place about a half mile out over the river.  The view from the bed was
breathtaking.

"My God!  The only thing missing is Julie Andrews singing, "The hills are
alive..." I gasped.

Once again, Kent cracked up, and what a hearty laugh it was.  I love a man
who gets my sense of humor!  Drake suppressed a smirk, Lars had an arch to
his left brow that defied logic, as Charles simply followed my gaze and
smiled, more to himself than any of us.

"Mr. Fawcett, would you mind coming over to the desk?" asked Charles.  The
leggy antique floated in the room about twenty feet from the bed, nearer the
windows overlooking the river and cliffs, with a single Chippendale chair
cocked at a 45 degree angle facing the river.  I looked down at the sheet,
lifted it slightly and considered my nakedness, then looked at Kent with an
arched eyebrow much like the one Lars had displayed.

He looked up over the back of my head and smiled.  I looked as well.  Lars
was now holding by the shoulders what appeared to be a very long ivory
burned-out silk robe, with an elegant tone on tone hounds-tooth pattern. It
was almost as breathtaking as the view from the bed.

Glancing first at Kent, I slid my legs out from under the sheets to the
right of the bed, trying to time the exposure of my nakedness with the top
sheet, as I stood into the proffered robe while slipping both of my arms
into the sleeves.  Larsı fingers deftly slipped over my shoulders, pulling
the robe flaps together in front of me as the sheet slithered from my crotch
to the edge of the mattress, allowing for a seamless covering of my
nakedness. I exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.

All I could think as I moved toward the floating desk was "this is soooo
surreal!ı  Charles made a subtle gesture with his right hand toward the
chair.  I sat and looked up at him.  From behind his back, Charles left hand
produced a flat, black leather notebook looking thing, with the White House
seal clearly embossed on the top cover. He opened it.

It held a neatly appointed fingerprint kit.  In the upper left corner was a
gold disk with a latch on one side, and a miniature hinge on the other.
There were ten perfectly appointed squares of some form of fine parchment,
in two rows of five.  Their purpose was clearly evident to the novice user.
Charles reached down and popped the clasp on the ink well.  It was filled
with an indigo blue-black substance that looked like a puddle of stiff
eyeliner, or cake topping as it were.  Holding up my right hand, I looked
into Charlesı eyes.

He nodded and said, "Right thumb first to the far left on the top row.  Left
thumb first to the far right on the bottom row, Mr. Fawcett."

One by one, in order, I complied.  Charles offered no assistance.  As I
finished rolling my left pinky on the last square, he said, "Excellent Mr.
Fawcett.  Have you done this before?"

"No, but I watch a lot of "Law & Order."

Kent cracked up. God I love this man!

It probably took the three men less than 17 seconds to exit the room after
Clarkıs laughter died.

When I looked back over my shoulder to the bed, I could see it was tented in
the center.  As I stood, my own erection poked out from the center of the
robe I was wearing.  He looked at it with obvious interest.  As I swaggered
toward the center pole of the tent in the sheets, I was leaking.

I slipped under the top sheet, wrapped myself around his torso, slid my hand
between his thighs, and found the spot I was seeking.  As I dipped under the
sheets, he pulled his knees up ever so slightly.  I was rewarded with a gasp
as my tongue found the most vulnerable flesh Kent possessed.  He screamed as
he exploded about four minutes later.