She reached over with her left hand and turned on the radio to hear the news and found that Puxtatawney Phil had seen his shadow, which meant another six weeks of winter.Her left leg and right arm were aching from the wounds she had received in the assassination attempt at the National Cathedral. She took a mild pain reliever and reached for her crutches so she could hobble to the bathroom. Her headaches had disappeared the day after she had been discharged from the hospital, and the bruises on her chest were now beginning to fade. Her doctors had told her that it would be at least another six to eight weeks before she would be able to have the casts removed from her arm and leg, although they hoped to have her in a walking cast within the next week.After washing herself, taking care not to get her casts wet, the President managed with some difficulty to dress herself. She was determined that she would do as much as she could for herself without assistance, and after her first day. She looked at me “How rude.” She said.I smiled. Gazing at her half satisfied body, the tits hanging from the bikini top, bare below. I moved round to the front of the lounger and said “Lie back.”She smiled, and shifted to her back, spreading her legs so that both feet were on the floor, one either side of the lounger. I smiled at the gaping, dripping slit, it’s tufts of new hair showing that a recent shave was growing back.I knelt, put on hand either side of her pussy, and spread it out. I gazed for a second and the glistening slit, then bent forward to run my tongue up and down, pausing to flick the clit rapidly. As I worked on that beautiful pussy with my tongue, and massaged the lips in and out, round and round. My tongue flicking from clit to labia, dipping inside as far as it could go.Jessica was moaning quite unrestrained, and a let one hand move down, pushing two fingers inside while I continued the tongue pressure on her clit.Her hips started bucking a little, her moaning.
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