Chapter 2: A Very British Proposal

Mike was completely refreshed by the time he reached his government car. His short sandy hair had dried completely and his pale blue shirt remained totally crease-free. He felt a brief moment of nervous excitement stepping into the back seat of the 2016 Holden Commadore, jet black of course. This would be the first time he’d meet the British Foreign Secretary in person. Their previous negotiations had been via video link or phone, sometimes email, but never up close and in the flesh. He knew the Foreign Secretary quite well by now, so much so, they operated on a first-name basis. From what Mike had seen, the British Foreign Secretary (who’s name was actually Leonard Thompson), was quite a handsome man, with short dark hair, delicate facial features and impeccable dress-sense. Mike remained, however, somewhat confused with the information Christopher Wayne had given him – Leonard still had questions regarding the size and the position of interest? Whatever could that mean, Mike thought quietly to himself.
The Commador was speeding slowly through the sleepy Canberra streets, zipping over roundabouts and stopping just in time for red lights. The driver was clearly taking the long route, but that worked in Mike’s favour, for he was able then to revise his notes regarding their last discussion. But the more he read, the more confused he became. The only points they’d discussed at the last meeting were in regards to transcontintental migration and joint economic goals, nothing that needed reiterating really. As the drive continued, Mike’s confusion grew.
It was nearly half past ten when the car pulled up outside the British Embassy, and Mike, who was by this point extremely unsure of the reason for this meeting, pushed open the door and leapt out. He quickly gathered his briefcase and made his way across the concrete lawn and through the glass sliding doors at the entrance of the building.
“May I ask where the Foreign Secretary’s office is, please?”, Mike asked the security guard at the main entrance.
“Why yes”, he replied in a strong Scottish accent. “Take that corridor down to my left, look for the first lift on the right hand side, and take it to level 3. That is the Foreign Secretary’s private suite.” Mike thanked him politely and followed the instructions carefully. He eventually located the lift and stepped inside and pressed the big button next to Level 3 – Foreign Secretary’s Private Suite. He couldn’t help but notice the scent of mahogany and detergent and the lift swiftly raised through the building until it stopped abruptly at level 3. The doors opened with a hiss, and Mike stepped out into small reception area. A young man, about 24 years old was behind the desk.
“Hello, you must be Mike Laycock. The Foreign Secretary is expecting you. However, before I can allow you in, I must perform a security check” he announced, and immediately began his task. The young man took Mike’s jacket from him and began to pat him down. He squeezed Mike’s biceps, his chest, patted his way down Mike’s abs and when his hands reached the waistline of Mike’s pants, the young man moved his hands around to Mike’s back. He reached down and firmly grabbed Mike’s stellar ass. He hummed in approval. “I am going to need you to take your pants off for me please, so I may complete my security check” the young man said. Mike obliged, knowing full well he had nothing to hide. All Mike was wearing by this point was his blue shirt and a pair of tight, white briefs. The young man again grabbed Mike by the ass and proceeded to move his hands around until he had his package in his grasp. The young man looked Mike directly in the eye and said with a small grin, “I think we have a suspicious package, and I will obviously need to inspect further”. Without another word, the young man had slipped Mike’s penis out of his underwear and began fellating it, his hands massaging his ass as he went. Mike could feel his cock growing harder and harder in the young man’s mouth. He was expertly using his tongue to massage the massage the knob, and could feel it responding to his every manoeuvre. Mike could feel the orgasm rising inside him, and when he couldn’t hold on any longer, he ejaculated into the young man’s mouth, waiting to be greedily swallowed. “You can go in and see him now”, said the young man as he hastily wiped his mouth.
Mike immediately got dressed, for the third time that morning, and was led through the mahogany door immediately left of the reception desk, where the young man was busy pretending nothing had happened. Mike stepped into a large room, with a desk facing the door, and behind the desk, a wooden wall with two doors, each either side of the desk. He walked forward and took a seat in front of the desk. He gazed around the room, and admired the many pieces of ancient art. On the desk was a small stone replica of the Statue of David, which immediately cause Mike’s eye. He didn’t have much time to gaze before the door on the right opened, revealing Leonard Thompson. Leonard looked younger in person, perhaps only 38 or 39, and was wearing only black pants and a silken white shirt. He walked forward, and held out his right hand. “Mike Laycock, it truly is a pleasure to be in your company!” he said and a very posh, most-definitely London accent. Mike shook his hand, and was surprised by the strength of his grip.
“It is nice to finally meet you, sir!” replied Mike. “I am curious, however, about the need for this meeting? I was under the impression we had reached an agreement by now”.
“Mike, please. This is the first time we have ever met in person! Business can wait a few minutes, surely. Now, let us toast to this special occasion” Leonard exclaimed, snapping his fingers twice. The young man from the reception desk entered the room with a serving trolley, covered by a silver lid. “Thank you Maxwell!” Leonard said as the young man left the room again. Leonard lifted the lid to reveal two glasses filled with amber liquid. He handed one glass to Mike and took the other for himself. “To a successful venture, and perhaps, the beginning of a good friendship!” he said, taking a deep swill.
Mike sipped his drink slowly. He immediately knew from the taste and smell that this was very expensive scotch. “Yes”, he said, “to venture and friendship” he replied. Leonard had already finished his glass, and was busy pouring another from the crystal decanter on his shelf.
“Very well, let’s get to business and then we can enjoy the pleasure of one another’s company, yes?” Leonard said. “I asked you here because there is something I need, and it is something I believe only you can give me.” Mike was instantly curious. “You see, Mike, I come from a long line of English nobles. My family has a very rich history as you may be able to tell by the small collection of artworks I keep here in my suite. But you see, people are very envious of my family, and they have every reason to be. We are one of Britain’s wealthiest, and have become wealthier and wealthier with each successive generation. Now, there have been a number of incidences – lets call them what they really are though, shall we? Robberies. My family has been robbed a number of times in the past, and thieves have made off with hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of relics and portraits. But there is one piece, one very special portrait that was stolen over one hundred years ago. It is of my sixth great grandfather, Albert Thompson, the founder of our House. It is very valuable, and carries a great deal of sentimental weight for my family. I have been very recently informed, very recently, in fact, that this particular portrait has turned up in a collection owned by the French government. Of course, they will deny this, I am certain. But, Mike, I understand you are an excellent negotiator. I will sign our transglobal partnership agreement, but only if you manage to get the portrait of Albert Thompson returned to me”.
Mike was lost for words. This seemed almost an impossible task to complete. How on earth could he convince the French to return a painting stolen over a century ago? He took a deep breath in. “I’ll do it”, he said. “Or at least, I will try. I have a meeting with the French Ambassador tomorrow afternoon, so I will begin negotiations then.”
“Excellent news, Mike. I am so pleased I can entrust you with this important task” said Leonard. “Now let’s get down to business. I need to know about the ships you will be sending into British ports.”
“The ships?” asked Mike, feeling totally confused again.
“Yes. The ships. I need to know more details. Please, take your shirt off so I can demonstrate.”
Mike took his shirt off without hesitation, leaving him sitting at the desk naked from the waist up. Leonard walked behind him and began to massage his breasts. He leaned in and nibbled on Mike’s ear. “I need to know that your ship can satisfy my needs” whispered Leonard as he moved his hands down to Mike’s abs and began to kiss him on the neck.
“Oh!” said Mike, realising this talk of ships was all euphemism. “Well, the ship is very much adequate to most desires. Would you like to see?” He stood up, and immediately lowered his trousers, exposing his erect cock and perfectly shaven balls.
Leonard gasped. He had never seen such a perfect specimen in all of his life. “Oh my, yes!” he cried. “This will be absolutely marvellous” and immediately tore off his clothes and threw them aside, revealing his own naked body. He has a slim yet very toned figure, shortly trimmed black pubic hair and a long, uncut cock. Mike eyed him off hungrily, feeling his insatiable appetite rising in him yet again. He kneeled down and started to worship Leonard’s cock with his mouth, doing everything he could in his power to please him. Leonard was groaning with pleasure, and he took a deep swig of his scotch, pouring the rest of the glass onto Mike’s head, as though baptizing him. He pushed Mike to the floor, sat on his face and leaned forward to suck on his monster cock. Mike was shocked by the initial burn of the scotch in Leonard’s mouth against his sensitive glans, but took up the invitation to perform oral sex on Leonard’s anus anyway. The two bodies writhed on the ground together, far too caught up in the pleasure each was giving, and receiving. Mike was overcome with ecstasy, and pushed Leonard onto his back, before jumping on him, and penetrating him deeply with his penis. Both men groaned and grabbed at each other like wild animals as Mike kept thrusting, making sure Leonard responded exactly how he wanted him to. Mike began to massage the head of Leonards cock with his hand, and before long, hot semen sprayed everywhere. The smell of sweat and sex hung in the air like a badge of honour, and the men lay on their back panting as though they’d run a marathon.
“For an Australian” gasped Leonard, “you sure know how to fuck like a professional.” And with that, he quickly redressed himself and left without saying another word. Once he had left, Mike decided it was time he put his clothes on too. He called his driver and give him strict instructions to meet him out the front in five minutes. Mike mentally rearranged his afternoon plans in his head, making plenty of time to do his research on the portrait of Albert Thompson, but also find out more about the French Ambassador as well…

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