Several long moments elapsed between the President’s departure and Donna being able to speak.
“Josh, what just happened?”
He met her eyes with a sheepish half-smile.
“I think the President just caught us making out on the carpet, admonished us for our jailbreak, implied that I’m an idiot, and gave us his blessing to get married,” he said in his soft-serious voice.
She didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared back at him. He took her other hand and looked down, slowly playing with her fingers.
“Does this mean I don’t have to ask your dad for his blessing? I mean, if the *President of the United States* approves, I’ll bet your dad—”
“Josh!” she said, the frustration in her voice forcing him to shift his eyes back up to hers, “…when you said ‘as soon as she’ll let me’…what did you mean?”
Seeing that she wouldn’t let him make light of the situation, he turned fully toward her with squared shoulders and answered the question seriously.
“I meant that if I thought you would marry me, I wouldn’t waste much time before asking. And if I am so lucky one day as to receive an affirmative answer to my proposal, I will jump at the chance to be your husband.”
His breath and his voice caught as he uttered the word ‘jump’, and as Donna studied him, he seemed out of breath after making his statement.
“Well, how will you know if I want to marry you if you’re not willing to ask?” she chided shyly, playfully.
“Who says I’m not willing?”
“Oh, I don’t know—maybe because you *haven’t* asked. I mean, I know it’s only our first date, but you’re not getting any youn—”
“If I’d bought you that ring…would you have said yes?”
She was more startled than she should’ve been at his interruption, at the seriousness in his eyes. They stared at each other intensely, neither speaking, as an entire conversation passed between them.
“Josh…I’d say yes without the ring,” she whispered finally, all playfulness having left her voice.
Whoa. His face was all awe for a long moment before it became shadowed by doubt.
“Donna…you’ve already been cheated out of so much. Don’t you want, I don’t know…the perfect proposal or something?”
“As long as it’s you proposing, it will be perfect.”
When he ducked his head and closed his eyes, she gently lifted her hand to wipe away the tear that rapidly descended his cheek. Her other hand was still in his and by then she had closed her eyes, too. It wasn’t until he had already dropped down to one knee that she realized what was happening.
“Donnatella…” he began slowly, his voice ragged, “…you don’t know how many times I’ve imagined this moment, how many times I’ve scripted what I’d say to you…”
Her face crumpled as she stifled a sob. She brought one hand to her mouth as he held fast to the other.
“…but now I know that…”
Tears now streamed down both of their faces.
“…that there are no words that come within a shadow of me explaining how I feel about you.”
His free hand trembled and slowly made its way to reach into his left pocket.
“…so I guess all I need to know is…”
Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw the small blue box.
“…whether you will do me the--*incredible*--honor of being my wife.”
With both hands outstretched, he held the box up to her and flipped open the lid.
“Donna…will you marry me?”
She made a little squeaking sound and nodded her head vigorously, tears still streaming down her face as she continued to stifle her sob. Forgetting the ring for a moment, he dropped his other knee and pulled her in to him, his ear flush with her belly button as he sobbed his relief and whispered ‘thank you’ over and over. Soon she was on her knees too and they were kissing tears off of one another’s faces. He didn’t know how long that went on before he remembered the ring and slid it on her finger. It was a perfect fit.
An hour later, they stood in the same room, Josh with his arm protectively draped around his fiancée. Having gotten over the initial shock, they were now nursing twin cordless phones and wrapping up the last of celebratory phone calls. First they’d called room service to order champagne; then their parents, then Leo and the President, then Sam and Donna’s best friend from home, Robin, and now they had Matt and Helen Santos on the line.
“Uh-huh…” Josh was saying as Donna silently nuzzled his neck, phone still up to her ear.
She could hear the distraction in his voice and wondered whether their counterparties could as well. Santos was reaffirming his full personal and professional support of their union.
“Thank you, Congressman…”
She bit his unoccupied earlobe softly and ran her hand slowly up his inner thigh. What they’d started before the President made his presence known had not left her—if any thing, the proposal only fueled her desire to consummate their relationship. This had better be the last call, she thought to herself as she continued her ministrations. Josh inhaled sharply and turned his head to give her what was sure would be a reproachful look but what turned out to be an encouraging one. After receiving the last of the enthusiastic well-wishes and saying their goodbyes, they clicked off in unison and threw their phones on the sofa in front of them.
“So…what now?” she asked, the sultriness in her voice betraying the feigned innocence on her face.
He pulled her closer into his arms and pushed her hair back from her face.
“I don’t know…order dinner, plan our wedding, do things that married people do.”
His smile was positively wicked. She rested her head on his shoulder.
“On our first date? What kind of girl do you think I am, Joshua?” she teased, over dramatizing a scoff.
She could feel his breath in her hair, then on her cheek as he brought his lips close to her ear and pressed their bodies closer. When he spoke, his voice was a low growl.
“The kind that’s about to find out how hard her man can make her come.”
Before she could even contemplate how unbelievably hot she found dirty-talking Josh, his lips were on her neck, one hand was behind her head and the other was on her ass, pulling her impossibly close. She had never fancied herself the type of woman to be transformed into a whimpering mess in the arms of a gorgeous, sinewy man. But as Josh unleashed ten times the passion he’d shown before in what was, in its most basic form, a kiss, she found herself unable to uphold her own weight and panting for breath.
“Josh…” she managed finally, her voice containing a desperation that sounded foreign to her.
He ground his body into hers and pulled his lips off of her long enough only to whisper breathily in her ear.
“I want to touch you, Donna…”
More hot, open mouthed-kisses.
“…and taste you everywhere…”
He pulled away reluctantly and rested their foreheads together, still out of breath.
“I want to bury myself so deep inside you that no one will ever find either of us ever again.”
Unable to word a response, she pressed herself yet closer and captured his lips in a searing kiss, letting him know how badly she wanted the same. His tongue delved into her mouth, deeply and purposefully, as if to touch her very soul and suddenly she was desperate for more—for everything—at once.
Every time Josh had imagined his first time with Donna, it involved slow, deliberate lovemaking. Sure, he’d had his share of wanton fantasies about taking her in his office—pressing her up against the back of his door or sweeping all the papers off his desk so he could drive into her over and over; sitting on his office chair while she knelt before him giving him head—but the very first time, he’d predicted, would be sweet and gentle.
Donna had managed to walk him a fair distance backwards in her urgency to get him to the bed. In the space they’d traversed from the salon to her bedroom suite lay Josh’s Jeans, t-shirt, fleece—she’d even managed to get his socks off of him! Now his calves were against the bed, he was wearing nothing but boxer-briefs that had become uncomfortably tight, and she was still kissing him senseless as she pushed his boxers down. When her hand closed around his shaft at the same time she used her foot to push his underwear to his ankles, he moaned softly, no longer able to contain his arousal at being manhandled by her.
“Donnnnnaaa…” he groaned, as she continued to stroke him.
Once he regained enough coordination to step completely out of his boxers and enough willpower to undress her, he gently stilled her hand. He had her golf shirt and bra off in record time and ran his hands indulgently across the smoothness of her stomach, back, and gorgeous, gorgeous breasts for a long minute before bowing to taste an erect nipple. Her sharp intake of breath, the way her fingers were working hard through the curls at the back of his neck, and the way she arched her back toward him, imploring him to somehow give her more, sent throbbing heat throughout his entire body, the brunt of it culminating in his groin.
He shifted his hips and now his cock probed her opening through her jeans. She whimpered at the implication of him entering her and reached down herself to unbutton her jeans. Seconds later, they were atop the bedspread, each completely naked. Donna had somehow climbed on top of Josh and it was taking every ounce of willpower he possessed not to stop their kissing and impale her on the spot. They were both more than ready, but he had promised her earth-shattering orgasms and, though she didn’t know it yet, multiple ones. He flipped her onto her back and let himself rest on his side as he took a nipple into his mouth and let his fingers trail up her thigh to her wetness.
Some men were visual, but Josh was more auditory. During lovemaking, he liked to close his eyes so he could hear—could really feel—what he was doing to a woman instead of merely watching. Presently, Donna was holding her breath, waiting, he knew, for him to touch her center. He parted her curls slowly, opening her by running the back of his finger softly up her slit. She released a breathy whimper, which caused him to smile, and slid her hand down his back, holding on desperately. He continued to run his finger up and down, beginning with her opening and ending with her engorged clit. He quickly discovered that doing this while grazing her nipple with his teeth caused her to rise slightly off the bed and moan quietly.
She was so wet, and he was so eager that his attempts at a slow seduction were halfhearted at best. Soon, he was between her legs, his tongue running the same delicate path his fingers had. It was hearing the sounds she made as he tasted her that broke his resolve—that made him want to rush her to her orgasm, to hear her scream his name. He shifted his focus to her clit, now alternating between rapid flicking and sucking. The loud moaning and her hands in his curls told of how much she liked it. He shifted his position a bit to allow his hands access and soon slipped a single digit all the way inside her, pushing upward toward her belly button so he could rub back and forth on that special spot. He felt her begin to convulse around him before she cried out her release and he found himself whimpering in empathetic ecstasy.
Even in Donna’s wildest fantasies, she’d tried to be realistic about how good Josh could possibly be in bed. On the one hand, she thought that he must be pretty good given that Mandy and Amy, the two most demanding women in the world, were his exes. But on the other hand, he was pretty cocky and boisterous about his sexual prowess, and in her experience, if you have to talk about how good you are, you probably aren’t very good (remember Dr. Freeride?). Their first kiss, which had only happened some 24 hours before was an early indication that maybe Josh had game. Their foreplay, though brief, revealed refreshingly well-developed neck and nipple-suckling skills. But it wasn’t until he went down on her, first with his fingers, then with his tongue that she realized she was with a master, and one 500% capable of delivering her the promised earth-shattering orgasm.
Another thing she hadn’t dared get her hopes up about was his size. The glimpses she had caught of him while he recovered from Rosslyn revealed him to be rather average, but who knew if he was a grower or shower? Now, as she lay panting and out of breath, her inner walls still quaking occasionally with aftershocks, she concentrated not on his face, but on his engorged cock, which brushed lightly up her leg as he climbed back up her body. Once their faces were flush and he was descending her mouth to give her a long, hot kiss that tasted like her, she slid her hands between them, for a second time allowed her hand to squeeze his significantly larger than average, now throbbing shaft. Oh, yes, Josh Lyman was definitely a grower.
The head of his cock was positioned near her opening, but she wanted to play with him, if even only for a minute, before driving him home. She shifted her hips upward so that he touched her center, then moved him up and down on her opening, slicking his head with her juices as she excited herself for a second time. The way she was touching him elicited a series of soft moans of her name—pleading moans that begged her to take him. She had established a steady rhythm of masturbating herself with his cock, gently jerking him off as she let the movements of his head tease her clit. She was rarely, if ever, multi-orgasmic, but as she felt the familiar tingling in her belly, in one swift movement, she shifted her hips up and let him enter her.
He let out a small, surprised whimper as he found himself halfway inside of her, only a brief beat passing before he buried himself to the hilt and cried her name softly, desperately, his eyes smoldering with the unspoken request to resume control, to release his desire.
“Take me, Joshua…” she begged, now desperate herself for him to move, “Don’t hold back.”
And he didn’t. Every time he drove into her, it felt like being hit by a Mack truck, and she couldn’t get enough of it. Because it was him, the love of her life, she’d known that making love would be good, and special no matter what. But this went beyond lovemaking. Josh—who was currently making missionary style feel like the most pleasurable position in the Kama Sutra—had also turned out to be a fantastic fuck. Maybe it was something in his hips that affected how deeply and thoroughly he plunged in and out of her; maybe it was how he managed simultaneously to caress the rest of her body, his hands groping different parts of her sides and back as their torsos danced. Maybe it was how deep and rich and foreign his voice sounded when he told her her pussy felt so fucking good and that she was gonna make him come.
As he drove her toward a second orgasm that descended so hard and so fast she barely saw it coming, she actually screamed his name (an unprecedented event in her sexual history). Somewhere in the middle of her ecstasy, his cries revealed that he, too was finding his release. As his body convulsed above her, he pulled her closer, as if to absorb her body with his own and made a final, deep thrust as they continued to pulse around one another.
Fifteen minutes later, they stood in a warm shower, bathing each other reverently in-between languorous kisses. They hadn’t uttered a word since their lovemaking had ceased, but instead simply gazed, touched, kissed and smiled, their eyes and body language communicating a tenderness for one another and an awe for the love they shared that could not be justified by words. As Josh first washed her hair (something he had never done to a woman), then massaged soap onto every surface of her skin, then even carefully washed her face, the rush he got from learning her body, from viewing and celebrating every angle and curve, was at least as profound as the unbelievable orgasm she’d just given him. Later, as she washed him (something he had never let a woman do to him), reveling in the intimacy of the act, he began to feel that his very soul was being cleansed, that only she had the power to relieve him of his each and every burden, to make him fresh and new.
After toweling each other off, she went in search of the candles they’d bought earlier and he went in search of the long-forgotten champagne which, by then stood chilling in a bucket of mostly melted ice. Managing the champagne, two flutes, and the plate of chocolate-dipped strawberries that had been delivered with them, he returned to the bedroom and made quick work of uncorking the bottle and pouring each of them a glass, as she lit half a dozen glass-encased candles, placing them on every surface from the tables to the floor. Josh even found the remote for the curtains and clicked them open, revealing the spectacular view of the White House the President had looked out upon from the outer room just hours ago.
The room was now bathed in a soft candlelight glow and as Josh sat back on the bed to join her, his eyes sparkled and his dimples shone with a happiness she seldom saw. She must’ve smiled back because he smiled more widely, and there they sat, just grinning at each other like idiots for at least the thirtieth time that day. He leaned in and brushed his nose lightly against hers before capturing her lips in a long, sweet kiss that made her swoon.
“Do you want strawberries now, or should we wait awhile?”
She leaned back in to kiss him for a long moment before answering.
“Let’s just enjoy the view.”
Josh scooted behind her and eased them down onto their sides and into a spoon. They enjoyed a quiet moment staring out at the magnificently lit city, each lost in his own thoughts.
“It seems like a long time ago, doesn’t it?”, she asked finally.
“Yeah…” he whispered.
He dropped several light kiss on her jaw and squeezed her a bit tighter.
“When was it hardest? You know, not to tell me?”
He stopped kissing her, and peered down into her eyes.
“That first year in the west wing” he whispered, “…how about for you?”
He dropped more kisses on her jaw and let his hand slide down her arm. When he felt the ring on her left hand, he fingered it gently and smiled into her neck.
“Josh, how in the world did you get my ring?”
Her voice was deliberately controlled when she asked, which indicated to him that she was trying not to let on how badly she was dying to know. Maybe one day he would tell her the truth—tell her how he’d told the clerk who sold him the tooth fairy box that he wanted to secretly buy his girlfriend whatever engagement ring she said she liked best; how that sales clerk had called over to the clerk by the rings and instructed her of the plan; how apparently both sales clerks had some experience with this, arranging for Josh’s card to be charged for both, and his receipts and the ring box to be surreptitiously slipped into one of his other shopping bags by yet another accomplice. Maybe one day he would tell her how he slipped the ring box in his pocket while she was admiring a jade necklace, and try to put into words how many times he reached into his pocket that day and fingered the box, feeling both terror and joy that one day soon he would ask her to marry him.
“One day, Donnatella, all of my secrets will be revealed.”
Thanks for reading!