The Candidate 1

I awoke in darkness. For that brief moment, not know sure where I was. Rolling on my side I felt for my wife, her side of the bed was empty. At first I thought she had gotten up to use the bathroom in these early hours of the morning, but then I remembered. Her side had been vacant for the last 6 years and I was alone.

Struggling toward consciousness, I realized that I was not in my own bed? Where was I? Then I remembered, I was in Washington, DC. There as an invited guest, asked to speak at the Presidential Inauguration.

Turning to the night table next to the bed, I glanced at the clock. Shit! Pretty soon it would be 6:00am and I would be forced to begin my day. There were the aids, the speech writers, the party faithful, and dozens of other hangers-on all wanting a piece of me.

But I still had a little time to hover in that place, between wake-fullness and sleep, pondering my life, the successes, the failures, the heartbreak, and the hole left in my heart by my missing wife. If she could be here, she would be so proud of her husband. Years ago, when I was elected Governor, she was so excited by all the gala events at the state level, that I thought she might need a tranquilizer.

You see, my wife was the driving force behind my success. Mary was the one that pushed me ever and ever higher. I had been perfectly satisfied being a lowly County Supervisor. But no way was she going to settle for that. Mary wanted to be the Governor's wife, or at least a State Senator's wife.

I rolled over on my back and thought about how it all began.

After three years I was fresh out of the Army in 1969. Luckily, I didn't end up in Viet Nam, I was sent to Korea instead. Not that I wouldn't have gone to Nam, but I just wanted to live a bit longer.

My Army job was a surveyor for the artillery. That sounded pretty safe to me, but at graduation from Survey School (I finished 2

nd

in my class) I was given a pay raise and promoted. They told me I would be installing the Forward Observer's positions.

I was really proud of the honor and the promotion, until I had that "Oh Shit" moment. The Forward Observer sat on the front lines and rained "Hell Fire" on the enemy. My job would be to survey in the map coordinates of his spot, so that Fire Direction Control knew his location and could plot the artillery fire from his radio calls.

In other words, my new job would put me right on the front lines. So as you can see, I was glad to go to Korea instead of Viet Nam.

Korea was hot in the summer and cold in the winter. I was assigned to the 2

nd

Infantry Division's Artillery's Headquarters Survey Section. Actually it was easy duty.

The "post" was small and located on the side of a mountain. So for the entire year I was there, I walked either uphill or down. There was no such thing as a flat spot.

The only other drawback was saluting. At our Headquarters, we had a "full bird" Colonel, two Lieutenant Colonels, eight Majors, etc. Do you get the picture? The officers multiplied like rabbits as their rank went down. By the time it got down to 2

nd

Lieutenant, we had enough to use as bookends.

I know that doesn't sound like a lot, but there were only about 200 individuals on the post. Now, me being an enlisted man, I had to salute until I felt as if my arm would fall off. So you guessed it, I was always volunteering for anything that would get me off post and give my arm a break.

Like I said before, it wasn't such a bad assignment. You see there were not enough of us enlisted guys to pull all those "extra" duties the Army dreams up, like Guard Duty, KP, and such, so Korean nationals were hired to do them. That meant we had our evenings and weekends almost free.

"OK big deal you say!"

Well remember prostitution was legal over there, and really cheap! For $0.50 you could get your pipes cleaned, for $2.00 a quickie and $5.00 got you the whole night. For a 21 year old male with no one waiting at home for him, it was like dying and going to heaven.

++++++

It's summer in Korea. The monsoons have stopped, and the dirt roads and trails have turned from mud to dust overnight, or so it seemed. It was the middle of the week, it was noon and I was done with my day's duties.

While it seems that I was goofing off, I actually got started at midnight the night before. The North Koreans had moved extra artillery into the de-militarized zone.

I had just returned from the local village at 11:00pm. I had spent a pleasant evening with one of the "working" girls and therefore I was relatively sober (but very drained and satisfied). For some reason, the girls become upset if you are drinking a beer while .....Well you know!

So the Sergeant grabbed me, a couple of other guys and off we went to our side of the DMZ to survey in the new guns. Our guys wanted to be able to direct a hit if they were needed.

A little description of this area is in order now. There are NO paved roads in this area. They are dirt road rutted with wheel tracks and pot holes. So you pounded your body to death driving these roads. And if you were in the vehicle following, besides the pounding, the dust was unbearable. I got lucky and was driving the front vehicle.

Those roads were before you entered the DMZ. You could tell you were entering the DMZ because you crossed a very long bridge. The bridge had explosive charges placed every 10 feet. If the North Koreans decided to come south, that bridge would not be standing by the time they reached it. Unfortunately, that would leave all of us north of that bridge with no way back.

I began to feel expendable.

When we finished our survey, rechecked the entire computations and radioed in the results, (Yea, we wanted the North Koreans to know we had them pegged), we started back down south. This whole thing was sort of routine. It seems as if the North Koreans moved something at least once or twice a month. I guess they just didn't want us to get good night's sleep.

Because this happened so often, and because we really could not get some real sleep on post, we were allowed to start our "24 hour" passes to the village when we got back.

That's the reason I was "walking to town".

I had a few regular girls that I visited when this happened. The girls I chose were usually out of bed by the time I got there, and starting their daily routines before starting to "work". This way I could grab 4-5 uninterrupted hours of sleep for about $2.00.

This particular day, it was hot and humid. I climbed on the bed, completely naked, and fell promptly to sleep. Not even bothering to climb under the covers. I guess my only attempt at modesty was to sleep on my stomach.

After sleeping 5 hours, I woke up to find Kim sleeping next to me. She was also naked but was sleeping on her back on top of the covers with me. Even though it was evening, I still woke up with my morning "Woody" trying to drill a hole into Kim's mattress. Looking over at her, guess what I wanted to do.

A little lesson in etiquette is due now. This isn't home; you just don't roll over on top, poke in your erection, and go to town. All that will get you is one very pissed off girl and usually a ban from using any of the other girls.

A "ban" is something any horny 21 year old will do anything to avoid.

So I started gently kissing her ear, face, and neck, heading south to her breasts. She smelled of bath oil and scented soap. That smell indicated she had visited the bathhouse before coming to bed. It also indicated she had not started into her chosen field of work yet today.

I kissed and nibbled at her very gently. I did not want to interrupt her sleep too abruptly. As I kissed and sucked on her breasts, I began to notice her arousal. Her nipples were beginning to elongate. Her breathing was starting to deepen. I was actually starting to arouse her.

I was shocked!

The "working girls" didn't make love to their customers. They didn't actually even fuck them. They sort of just laid there, whispering things like, "Time almost up", or "hurry up", or "done yet"?" and let the customer do all the work. For the guy it was like masturbating, except it was into a warm body instead of a blowup doll.

That's why I felt like a hero when I noticed her reacting to my show of affection.

Unlike many young men, I actually read Penthouse as well as looking at the pictures. My favorite read was the letters to the editor.

There were many things I wanted to try that I had learned by reading them. So I began applying that knowledge to her body. (OK, so she should have been awake, but what the hell....)

Her belly sucked in as I licked and tongued her navel. Her hips started moving softly, without her control. I kept kissing and licking lower. Her breathing deepened even more. She was in that state where she wasn't quite asleep, but not awake yet either.

She was just caught up in the sensations.

My tongue finally reached her pubic hair. It was soft and silky, smelling of fine soap. I probed further and found her pubic dimple. I probed it with quick flicks of my tongue. She moaned and raised her hips to feel more of my tongue in it.

I moved my head between her legs. I flattened out my tongue and followed that wonderful valley from her pubic dimple down until my head was stopped by the mattress. She again raised her hips, inviting me to lick down further.

And I did.

I was novice at the fine art of oral sex. But I was learning quickly, I noticed a different smell that I could not identify. It was mixed in with the soap and body lotions I could identify. I didn't know it at the time, but it was to become my favorite female smell.

It was the smell of a woman in heat, ready to share her total self with her mate.

I shifted my position to between her legs and was awarded by her spreading them far enough apart to allow me between them.

I licked her again.

This time faster and with greater pressure. I was again rewarded with a moan and more hip movement. To be exact, her hips lifted off the mattress.

I began to feel braver. I pointed my tongue and started sliding it up and down her slit, pushing deeper in with every stroke. By now she was completely out of control. She was pounding her hips off the mattress and moaning continually.

One of us was in heaven. The other one felt his ego get a tremendous boost.

Then it happened. My tongue found her magic spot and she started her orgasm. Her legs tightened around my head so I couldn't move. The only things I could move were my mouth and tongue.

And move them I did.

I licked and sucked her magic spot. She went crazy. I noticed that there was a lot more moisture than I could attribute to my licking her. I put two of my fingers into her and discovered she was soaked. I started moving my fingers in and out of her in time with my tongue. She went crazy! She was screaming and jerking uncontrollably. She was in continuous orgasm.

Suddenly she stiffened and just stopped moving, collapsing on the bed motionless. I panicked thinking I had somehow injured her. I quickly slid up the bed and grabbed her head. Her eyes opened, she put her arms around my neck, kissed me deeply, and said "thank you" in broken English.

From that moment on, I learned that there was a lot more to sex than just sticking it in and going to town. I learned that giving pleasure to a woman gave a man the feeling of the greatest power of all, and she returned the favor, times ten.

I no longer had to pay for sex the rest of the time I was in Korea. It seems that the "working" girls in the village talked and I became something of a hero to be tried by many others, always with Kim's permission of course.

++++++

I was brought back from my daydream by a pounding at my bedroom door. I guess they couldn't wait for the desk to process my wakeup call. Then I heard a little voice calling, "Grandpa, Can I come in?"

It was Samantha my favorite granddaughter. "Favorite Granddaughter?" Just ask her, that's what she tells everyone.

"Go Away! There's no one home" I yell, while putting on my robe.

The door pops open and this little blond headed ball of fire, dressed in pink, attacks me. She jumps up and grabs me around the neck, covers me with kisses. And then scowls at me.

"You forgot your cane" she scolds me. And off she goes to find it and bring it to me.

"Mommy and me don't want you falling down again and hurting yourself" she lectures me.

Then I feel old and frail again. I'm only in my 50's but need a cane to help me keep my balance, the result of a stroke 6 years ago. My granddaughter needs to remind me to be careful. At 4 years old, she's old way beyond her years.

"Samantha! Are you bothering your grandfather already?" Says my daughter Danielle walking into the bedroom. She and her husband Bill are using one of the other bedrooms in this suite.

This luxury suite is one of the finest in Washington, DC. It is completely paid for by my political party. I guess it's one of the perks of reaching the "big-time" in politics. I guess someone thinks it will impress me. They don't really know me very well.

"Grandpa forgot his cane and I was just getting it for him." The little "rat" told her mother.

Of course her mother gave me the "look". How many times has she lectured me about just that simple thing? "Dad!" she said.

My daughter grabbed her daughter and starts leaving the room telling me to get cleaned up because breakfast would be served in an hour.

My daughter, Danielle is so very much like her mother. Here I am one of the most powerful men in the United States, Governor of New York State, and she still orders me around. And I guess I'll accept her orders because I love her.

I picked up my cane and started toward the bathroom remembering how this all started.

+++++++

It was just before Christmas when I was discharged, the Army felt that I could get home in time to spend the holidays with my parents. My mother was thrilled! Her little boy (I was 6 ft tall and weighed 180 lbs! But you know Mothers) was home safe and sound.

Since I had just served my country, I wasn't in any hurry to go back to work. My Dad wanted me to join him in the family business, as my two younger brothers had. I learned early in my life that my Dad and I could not work together. You see there was the right way, the wrong way, and Dad's way of doing everything. My brothers could put up with that, but I never could. All I had to do was pick up a hammer, when Dad was around, give it an hour, and we were at each other's throats.

I don't mean to give the impression that we hated each other. That was not the truth. We loved each other, but we just couldn't work together, or discuss deep subjects. The rest of the time we were typical father and son.

Since I really didn't have a clue what I wanted to do for a living. I decided that I would draw unemployment while I made up my mind.

So off to the state unemployment office I went. One of their rules was the "client" had to do job interviews while drawing checks.

I was sent to the local public utility for my first interview. Just my luck, they hired me. There I was learning the ropes in Customer Service. I never did manage to draw an unemployment check.

I loved the work. I got to wear a suit and tie and help people with their problems. It sure beat working with my family on dirty construction sites.

The veteran employees, who had burned out in the job, no longer really helped the customer. They basically told people, "If they didn't like it. They could take their business elsewhere".

Neat trick since we were the only company to sell gas and electric in the area. I resisted that attitude and learned to really work to help the customer. Little did I know how valuable this would be in my later life.

+++++++

Before I went in the Army I had dated one of a pair of sisters. My date was a "good catholic girl" and I got "nothing" (which was all I was looking for at that time in my life). But she had a younger sister who had a boyfriend. The boyfriend (Pete) and I became pretty good friends while we both dated the sisters. When I returned from service, I looked him up.

Well I got the surprise of my life when I finally found him. In the three years I was gone, he married the sister, had a new baby girl, and his father-in-law had gotten really, really rich. It seems that his little family business caught the eye of some huge multinational corporation which bought them for a massive amount of money. Pete was living the good life.

Before you ask, the sister I had dated was married, had moved to some exotic location with her husband and was living off Daddy's money. (So much for the easy life for me.)

Pete and I had lunch together and basically brought each other up to date on our lives. So I wasn't surprised to receive an invitation to a costume party at his house when October rolled around. I grabbed a girl I was seeing, and off we went.

The party was a success. But I did notice that Pete and his wife were traveling in some powerful company. At least half of the guests there were local politicians. It seemed Pete had joined the big time.

As the holiday season approached, I found that I was invited to a lot of parties through him. These parties had one thing in common. Republicans! And anyone who was anyone in the Republican Party was at these parties. The impressive thing was they actually started talking to me, asking my ideas, impressions, and just making me feel as if I belonged. Me, just a poor, working class guy!

On the down side my girlfriend was a Democrat, soon I was attending these parties alone.

I really don't know how it happened, but all of a sudden, I was going to Republican Party meetings and caucuses. Don't get the idea I was there as an important contributor, unless you count getting coffee, soft drinks, and extra chairs a major political contribution. But I fell in love with the political process there.

It was at one of these meetings, I saw her. She was beautiful. She had long blond hair, stunning blue eyes, and a body to die for. I think I fell in love with her at first sight. Now she was with a delegation from downstate. They were sent to make sure we "hicks" knew what the party line was and followed it blindly.

That was my first taste of party politics. I didn't like it, but knew enough to keep my mouth shut around these "Big Shots".

I couldn't keep my eyes off my new love; I knew she was way out of my league. She lived in a section of the state where the average home cost a million dollars or better. She talked with that Ivy League school accent and dressed in outfits that would have cost me a month's salary. (I found out later it was more like 6 months pay).

Later that evening, when a downstate representative was lecturing us, and being really obnoxious, she glanced over my way and a little grin, as if to say, "Yeah! He's really a jerk".

Then I agreed with her by a simple nod, I knew I had just made a friend for life.

Soon the meeting wound down, and they left in their limo for the airport and their private jet back to New York City.

We wouldn't meet for again for years.

A few months later there was an emergency meeting of the local party leaders. It seems one of their candidates was caught by his wife with his fingers in another man's wife's "honey pot".

The meeting was to pick his replacement on the ticket. This particular spot was for a seat in the state legislature that was held by a long term Democrat, who was not expected to lose.

I was in the kitchen area making a fresh pot of coffee, when I heard my name being called. I stuck my head out the door and yelled that the coffee was almost ready and I would bring it out.

Well that brought the house down.

They started laughing, so hard I was sure I would soon need to call 911. When the local party chairman was able to bring himself under control, he said, "You've just been voted to be our candidate for the Senate seat".