Sarah Palin, former Governor of Alaska, was quickly whisked back to her limo by her handlers after delivering a speech to a capacity crowd of Missouri Tea Party supporters. She felt absolutely euphoric. Those multiple standing ovations she'd received had really touched her, but she was also worn out. The numerous book signings and personal appearances over the last few days had left her exhausted. Sitting in the limo, staring out the dark tinted windows at row after row of empty houses and foreclosure signs, all she really wanted to do was go back to her hotel room and get some rest. Maybe have a relaxing bubble bath.
When she arrived back at the hotel, her personal assistant informed her that she'd have a few hours off before a dinner that was to include some local candidates, campaign donors, and influential businesspeople from the area. Delighted by the idea of getting some R&R, she shooed away her multiple public relations and image consultants who were incessantly blabbering in her ear, using lots of words she didn't know, and rushed up to her room, flopped down on the bed, and kicked off her black Gucci heels. Ah, it felt back to be lying down, she thought. She sipped and subsequently gulped down on the bottle of 20 year old malt scotch she'd been working on during breakfast.
Since she hadn't taken a shower that morning she figured she might as well do so now, while there was still time. In fact, she figured she might take a jacuzzi bath in the posh marble-floored hotel bathroom. This was the Hilton after all, so she might as well take advantage of it. Her handlers usually put her in cheaper hotels, sometimes even motels, the cheap bastards. But today they'd done well. And best of all, they'd put her in the "Presidential" suite. Oh how she adored the sound of that...
No matter how luxurious the bathroom's accommodations were, the thought of jumping into the jacuzzi did bring mixed feelings to her, though. Back home, she and her husband Todd used to always fuck in the jacuzzi. It's probably where most of her kids were conceived. However, with her busy schedule, she hardly ever saw Todd anymore, and when she did, he didn't seem to be too interested in sex, and she couldn't understand why.
Maybe he didn't find her attractive anymore. Worse yet, she'd been starting to suspect that perhaps his recent lack of interest in sex meant that he's probably fucking someone else, like that sexy little 20 something secretary of his with the big tits and high-pitched voice. Sarah hated that bitch with a passion.
Whatever the case, they hadn't done it in months, and Sarah had taken to masturbating, usually with her fingers and sometimes with bananas, but it just wasn't the same. She missed the weight of a man over her in bed and a good hard cock plunging in and out of her pussy. She didn't do all those vaginal tightening exercises for nothing, you know.
Fuck it, Sarah figured. She'd been standing in those just deposed $600 heels for far too long and felt like pampering herself to a nice jacuzzi bath. Still lying on the bed, she started peeling off her clothes. First she took off her glasses and laid them down on the nightstand by the bed. Then she rolled her sheer black pantyhose down over her silky smooth legs. That electrolysis treatment she'd had had left them perpetually smooth, and she loved to rub her hands up and down them, and she did so for a minute or two before she lifted up her back a bit and unzipped her long black, butt-hugging skirt that reached just past her knees. After undoing the zipper, she pulled the skirt down to her feet and kicked it off the bed, onto the floor.
Next to go was the light bluish blouse she had on. She unbuttoned the front of it, freeing her large, red lacy bra held her tits. She tossed off the blouse, and then unhooked and threw off her bra too.
At this point she was sprawled out on the king sized bed, with her legs parted, wearing only a pair of red thong panties. She looked over at the wall mirror on the other side of the room, and though her vision was a tad blurry from not having her glasses on, she could see herself there, nearly naked on the bed, with her big, juicy tits hanging out, nipples hardening up in the air conditioner's cool breeze.
"What a fucking sexy bitch I am." She thought to herself. She also thought about how fat and ugly most of the Tea Party women in the crowd were, how many were missing teeth, and how much sexier she was than them. Starting to become aroused by her own reflection, she began running her hands up and down her nude body, caressing all around her silky smooth legs, flat stomach, and pointy-nippled, pear-shaped tits.
The booze had gone to her head and she started to become unbearably horny and knew she had to masturbate. So she slid off her panties, brought her fingers to her shaven pussy's slit, and inserted her index and pointer fingers into it. She closed her eyes, thought of Brad Pitt, and lightly fingered herself and flicked around at her clitoris with her thumb. She was just about to get up to grab a banana from the fruit basket sitting on the table in the corner when she heard a sudden knock on the door.
Quickly pulling her fingers away from her pussy, she stumbled up off the bed, ran to the bathroom, put on a white cotton Hilton crested bathrobe, and hurried over to the door. Upon opening it, she saw Peter, one of her young staffers, standing in the hallway with a manila folder in his hand.
"Mrs. Palin, hi. I've got a few forms I need you to sign, regarding PAC contributions." Peter said to her, his voice nervously cracking a bit as he noticed that she was in a bathrobe.
"If now's not a good time I could come back later..."
"No, it's okay. Come on in and put the forms on the table over there, by the fruit basket." Sarah responded, sounding a bit winded from scrambling to the door.
As Peter nodded, smiled and walked in, Sarah eyed him up. She'd been eying him up for a while, actually.
A big, beefy six foot tall young twentyish recent college grad, Peter was muscular and had the dark, handsome Italian features that drove Sarah (and most women) wild. He looked a bit like Sylvester Stallone from the early Rocky movies and was just as cut and fit. Sarah personally interviewed him and although he was under-qualified, his movie star looks and physique got him the job.
Sarah also liked him because there was something about this particular young man that brought her back to her college days, the happiest times of her life. Quite wild times too. She'd had to make several pay-offs to ensure that no tales of those drunken sex romps, frat house parties, the time she had that double trouble with the quarterback and running back, etc, ever emerged in the press.
All of a sudden Sarah started to feel 20 years younger, like a sorority chick again. Watching this young stud stroll confidently across the plush white carpet of her hotel room turned her on immensely, and by his mere presence she felt transported back in time to those college days that Peter so vividly reminded her of.
