Behind the Kremlin Walls

Inauguration Night

The inauguration dinner had come by that evening, the officials taking a seat to their assigned positions to commence eating, however two figures hesitated for a second; they looked at each other with an ambiguous look, Putin's mouth contorted into a smirk before wryly looking away from Medvedev's face, who had pulled the chair back to sit down. He stopped in his tracks, before slightly nodding in Putin's direction.
"My guests," Dmitri spoke up, his usual persevering tone echoing in the Kremlin hall, "before we commence our dinner, I have to speak of important matters with our former president, pardon us for the inconvenience."

The officials in the guest room glanced at each other, but gave an understanding nod, before the two figures made their way towards the corridor hall, luscious polished walls, wrapping the atmosphere into a pure and angelic mood, which could be considered an oxymoron for the events that will transpire just a few minutes ahead of it. After committing unspeakable acts with the former president of the Russian Federation, he had developed a certain obsession—for lack of a better word—with Vladimir, he infested his deepest, most unorthodox thoughts, making his way into his political life. It could be an absolute scandal, if anyone found out—but at the same time, the thought of them acting out a voyeuristic fantasy seemed quite appetizing to Medvedev.
The sound of business shoes' heels echoed through the milk-coloured hallway, filling a seemingly awkward silence that anticipated chaos, emanating almost an innocent feeling in both of them; however, this was only a false sense of purity that is destined to corrupt itself one way or another.
They turned the right corner, and Putin put his hand against the bathroom door handle, opening it with a certain hurry which showed how desperate both of them really were. He quickly grabbed Medvedev's sides to push him against the porcelain walls, the brunet exhaling an exasperated groan that sent blood running to Putin's crotch, when he noticed an uncomfortable feeling forming in his crotch, as his pants tightened.
Putin gave him a half-smile, "I want an appetizer, Dima..."
Dmitri smiled back, his breathing becoming noticeably shallower. They pulled each other in a passionate, but sloppy kiss, pausing to breathe, moaning in between kisses. Putin shifted his hands to undo Medvedev's suit buttons, revealing his bare chest, covered in hair. He began kissing at his neck, hearing Dima's moans, which turned him on even more.

"Bon appetit to me." He looked at Dima, before kneeling down and fumbling with Medvedev's trouser zipper, revealing a big bulge in his white cotton underwear, hungry for exposure and touch-starved already. He slowly pulled his underwear down, revealing a huge erection. The tip was already leaking pre-come, and to Vladimir it looked like such an appetizing sight. He brought his calloused fingers to graze over his cock, which twitched in anticipation. Medvedev urged him to conduct his act already, and Putin slowly put his mouth on his blood-filled cock, sucking slightly on the tip, causing immense pleasure to the president, who jerked back his head and let out a wholehearted moan, putting his hand on Putin's head to urge him to go deeper. Vladimir deepthroated the whole length, before removing his mouth from Dima's cock with a popping sound. It didn't take long for Dima to cum, and Vladimir swallowed all of it. It was quick, but they both enjoyed it.
Vladimir rubbed Dina's cock one more time, before pulling his pants off and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Putin smiled, "Thanks for the appetizer, Dima."