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On top of that she had needed to put in long days in her own Department, trying to stay one step ahead of those that thought she should never have had the job in the first place. And that was without the particularly full post bag of letters from her constituency raising issues of local concern. It was the same for any Cabinet Minister, she thought, but even so, by Friday evening, she felt it was time for a drink.Florence felt the bars that clustered in the streets around the Houses of Parliament were far too close to work, with too many opportunities to bump into people she really didn’t want to have to talk to. Her preferred watering hole – something she didn’t share with any of her team – was across the river in Lambeth Palace Yard. Once the residence of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the red-brick, Tudor buildings had been converted long ago into a shopping mall and leisure precinct. There were restaurants and bars that offered a chance to relax. The other benefit of the location. Once the show was over I watched him as he walked to the bathroom. Still wearing his fireman hat I followed him. He hadn’t locked the door. I opened it and walked in cautiously. He had his back turned. He turned around at the sound of the door shutting. I took the hat off slowly and placed it on his head. He could see the hunger in my eyes and he grabbed the hat and set it down on the sink. He came close and stopped. I could feel his lips brush against my ear as his breath tickled me. He whispered in a low groan “you’re the cutie with that nice juicy pussy.” I nearly died as he came in closer placed his hand on my face. My body went numb to his touch. He moved his hand down my cheek, neck, breasts, and rested it on my ass as he pulled me to him kissing me hard. I reciprocated and before I knew it he was pulling my dress over my head exposing my black lace bra and matching thong. He stepped back to take me in. “Damn, you are sexy as fuck” he said with lust in his eyes. I watched.
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