A Further Fictive Adventure of Swift Branchbaum, Efficacious Broadcastman.
An old friend contacted me yesterday. He had figured out that I was the person writing here under the name ILienBagby. He told me that he would reveal my true identity to the world UNLESS I wrote more about a character I had briefly introduced in part 3b of my story, A Political Education. As the people in so many stories here say, "I have no choice"
Swift Branchbaum Gets Fucked
The light on the callboard flashed red. Swift pushed the button that put the call on the air and began to speak. "Hello," he said in his in his most macho voice, "You're on the air, and you're speaking with me, Swift Branchbaum, the Guru of Truth." Swift was proud of his macho voice. He was also proud of that 'Guru of Truth' motto. His listener's ate it up.
"Oh, Oh, I can't believe it. Oh, I am so excited. Swift Branchbaum. I am really talking to you. Oh, this is so exciting."
Yes, his listeners ate it up. This one sounded as if she was having an orgasm.
But he needed to keep things moving. There were only six minutes until he needed to break for his next commercial. "Yes," Swift said (in his macho voice), "You're on the air. What did you want to talk about?"
"Swift," the caller continued, gushing, "I've been trying to get on your program for a year now and, finally, I'm on."
As were so many of his callers, this woman was in a high state of excitement when she finally made it onto his program. Swift liked that, especially when the excited person was a woman. In fact, Swift instructed JohnnyBoy, his call screener, to push calls from those women to the head of the on-line queue whenever they came in.
"I am really on, I'm on, I can not believe it," she repeated.
Swift liked to think what his callers looked like. This woman, he imagined from her voice, had nicely rounded calves, firm, beautifully curved thighs, and blonde pubic hair.
But, duty called. He must move the program along." Yes, you are on," Swift said in his most dulcet tone, "You wanted to talk about the latest sex scandal involving Jenean Forest, the Tennis star. Well, please go ahead, Mary."
Jenean Forest, the most dominant lady tennis player in the world had just been revealed to be a sex addict, bisexual (as well as biracial). The news had been all over television, radio, the internet, and newspapers this week. Jenean had won the Australian, the British, and the U.S. open each of the last four years, every year since she graduated from high school and turned pro. She had missed a grand slam sweep only because she had not won the French Open. But just two days ago, much to the tennis world's horror, it was revealed that not only had Forest been cheating on her husband, but also on her lesbian live-in mistress. And cheating with a string of what was now reported to be at least 16 male and 18 female lovers in the past six months.
"Swift," said Mary, the caller, "I play tennis too, but I am ashamed to even admit that now."
Swift Branchbaum felt a tickle of a tingle along the shaft of his cock. He could see Mary in her tennis shorts, her bloomers visible below her short skirt. He could imagine her long legs, tanned and shiny with sweat as she ran up and down a sunny Florida tennis court.
The callboard display provided Swift with the name of the caller he was speaking with and the subject she wished to discuss. Unfortunately, it was not capable of giving him what he truly wanted, an idea of what she looked like. He had to imagine that. So Mary, he imagined, had rounded 34BB boobs (not much bigger than his) but a svelte figure from her exercise on the tennis court.
"Swift, Mr. Branchbaum, sir, you are truly the leader of our Coffee Brigade's efforts to make our country a great country again. The current scandal is certainly an outgrowth of the moral weakness that has beset this nation since the last election.
This time Swift felt a solid twitch flutter along his cock. Until that moment, his cock had been furled, warm and cuddly in the recesses of his silk boxer shorts. Swift Branchbaum treasured those calls that got his cock unfurled and twitching, It was those times when he felt his 'little buddy' give that signal that it was coming alive, that he knew he would be giving his listeners good broadcast. "Mary," he said to her in his low and caring tone of voice, "Maybe you should switch from tennis to golf. Golfers haven't been dominated by foreigners like tennis has. Although it was invented by the British, at least the British speak our language and not Russian or some other foreign language." Golf was Swift's game. Just two weeks ago he had made par three holes in a row at Pebble Beach, a feat that confirmed to him his own athletic prowess.
"Well, Swift," Mary replied, "I don't know why I never thought of that before. You are just so clever. I am going to quit my tennis club, fire my Croation tennis instructor and join a golf club."
She said Croation instructor. Swift wondered whether the Croation was making a play at Mary "Mary, it is people like you, citizens of this great country who care, who care about our society and our American Conservative principles and what is happening that make this radio program powerful. I am not the leader. It is you and those like you who are the true leaders." Branchbaum didn't know exactly what he had meant by what he had said. But he knew that his listeners, Mary especially, would react in a positive manner as his tone remained dulcet, humble, sincere, yet manly.
Swift Branchbaum's cock was now almost alive. He could feel a surge of blood flow that, if it didn't mean a full fledged hardon, at least meant a three-quarter-hard prick. Surely, Mary would have rebuffed any sexual overtures from a Croation.
"Oh, you say it so beautifully, Swift. Today, when I dropped my twins off at school, they're in the second grade, I thought they should have the school pipe your broadcast into the classrooms so that the young people would have a chance to get your wisdom instead of whatever left wing nonsense their hippy teachers give them."
Two kids. Must be in her late twenties or early thirties, thought Swift. Remembering the rounded calves and curved thighs he had surmised for her earlier, he guessed she must really hit the treadmill hard to keep her body firm after two kids. He could almost smell the slight musky odor her cunt would emit as she pounded the treadmill in a tight fitting leotard, or better, in skimpy shorts and a sweaty tee shirt.
Swift was now able to feel that the slight surge of blood that had managed to work its way to the head of his circumcised cock. Swift had circumcised his penis twelve years ago at the suggestion of his first wife when she was suffering from his erectile dysfunction. He had since divorced that wife, figuring the dysfunction was her fault. He had been married three other times, each time divorcing the new wife after suffering erectile dysfunction and figuring out that it was the wives' fault, the sexual-disfunction causing bitches. It couldn't have been his fault, he was Swift Branchbaum!
But, back to the phone conversation.
Swift hurried to agree with his caller, Mary, " Mary," he said, "If our schools hadn't been so intent on indoctrinating our youngsters with the idea that morals are relative and unimportant, then people like thong wearing, Jenean Forrest would have never been allowed to become roll models." Swift Branchbaum was pretty sure that Jenean didn't shave her pussy. He had enlarged and studied one of her pictures and he was pretty sure he had seen some curly hairs tucked in at the elastic.
"Swift, you are so smart! I always learn so much when I listen to your program."
