Love of Politics

Copyright June 2005. All rights reserved. May not be copied or published without express written permission from the author. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

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Chapter 01 -- 1991 A Political Junkie Finds Sexuality

I remember the first time we met.

It was 1983 and I had volunteered to work for the Democratic candidate for Governor of Michigan, James Blanchard. We won, too, by the way. I was standing on a stepladder in one of those old high schools that had an auditorium with an old-fashioned stage. Mark wandered in while we were setting up for a rally. I saw him walking down the aisle when my friend Brenda commented on how good-looking he was. He had an easy-going confidence that showed as he glanced around the room and stopped at the foot of the stage.

There was a lot going on, people trying out speaker systems, others hammering signs onto strips of wood, people talking. I was holding one end of a banner while someone worked on the other end and I needed a tack. The tacks were on the floor far below the level of the stage. I looked down to find Mark standing there looking up my skirt. I asked him to hand me the tacks, but for several moments, he seemed so intent on my nylons that he didn't respond.

I stood looking at him with a smile until he looked up.

"The tacks?"

He bent to hand them up and I could see that he was blushing at being caught trying to see my panties. His embarrassed grin was engaging and I liked him right away. I didn't know it then, but a long and increasingly close friendship had begun.

Our first pleasure together was the electric thrill of being on the winning side of a political campaign. To this day, I find the excitement of political campaigns almost sexual. They make me tingle with excitement the same way.

In 1991, we both attended a statewide convention on Mackinaw Island in the Straits of Mackinaw. It was to be a fateful event that altered the course of our lives to this day.

Convention is ending

The band struck up a spirited and very loud "Happy Days Are Here Again" for the umpteenth time. I sighed wearily but sadly that the convention was coming to a close. Spotlights swept around the grand hall and balloons were released from overhead to fill the floor with red white and blue. A banner proclaimed "We're BACK in 1992!"

There is electricity to political activities that I find irresistible. I don't know if it is the feeling of power, or the high-energy people, or meeting people whose names are familiar on the nightly news. Whatever it is, I am aware that it raises an excitement in me that is almost sexual in nature. I shivered with the pleasure of it once again, even though three days and the inevitable late night parties had left me slightly drained.

"How does the most beautiful campaign manager in Michigan manage to look so fresh and lovely after three days of this?"

I smiled as Mark's familiar arm slipped around my waist and I leaned into him.

"I think you are not looking very carefully! Under this façade I'm exhausted!" I said loud enough to rise above the band. His arm squeezed me in an old friend's embrace. I felt a glow of pleasure in his company and the obvious warmth of his gesture.

"Will you manage my campaign again next time, then?"

"I said I was tired! Besides, my husband may lock me up if I come to many more of these and leave him baby-sitting."

"But I need you! No one else will do!" he exaggerated.

I looked up into his dark brown eyes and smiled my agreement.

"Yes, OK, you're so helpless! I know!" Actually, I was delighted. I had successfully run his first campaign for the state legislature last fall and it was great fun. I found it very exciting. But, of course, he was a great candidate I actually thought he would one day be in the U.S. Senate. I was admittedly his biggest fan.

"It'll be a little easier this time with the kids in school at least?" he said hopefully. "They are school age now, right?"

"Yes, Mick is in first grade now. There's practically nothing to do anymore!"

Mark smiled and rolled his eyes appreciatively. "Thanks, Beth, you're a marvel."

Someone supporting Bill Clinton had the microphone and we stopped to listen.

"I met this guy once. He's pretty high powered." Mark said. "Maybe he can make it. Got that southern charm, you know. And smart!"

"I think it's time to find our car-pool and head out, don't you?" We left the ballroom and scanned the lobby for Janet, who had been my roommate for the past three days. We spotted her in the bar having one last drink with one of the guys from the Upper Peninsula.

The Drive

"Oh, there you are!" she shouted. "I've been looking everywhere for you," she laughed, holding up her drink.

"I can see you have," I replied, twisting my mouth into a skeptical smile.

"Listen, guys. I've got one or two items I didn't get finished and I want to stay over for another day. Would you mind driving back yourselves? Charlie here has offered to fly me home in his plane tomorrow. I hate to confuse things, but .... Oh, and I think Kelly wants to stay over too. Can you two manage?"

This left Mark and me in Janet's suburban for the 4 or 5 hour drive downstate.

"Up to you Mark, I'm probably going to fall asleep though, so don't count on help with the driving."

"OK, sure, not a problem." Mark smiled.

And so, we found ourselves alone on the ferry staring into an autumn sunset and the Mackinaw Bridge beginning to twinkle into view.

We pulled our coats around our necks and drank in the view along with deep breaths of crisp fresh air off the lake.

"Your husband isn't political, I guess?"

"Worse. He is interested, but has gone bad - he's moved to the right of Attila the Hun! But, he isn't a bit interested in political party activities of either side. He considers this my hobby and is happy to leave me to it if I don't insist on playing golf with him!"

He smiled that lovely smile and leaned his head to the side, staring into my eyes with the warm friendship that made me a little weak in the knees. I had been tempted during the last few years, but so far, I was still completely faithful to David, my one and only. The gentle flirting between Mark and me was pleasant, but harmless. And I think it was never obvious enough for anyone to think otherwise. For an ambitious first-year state congressman, that was important.

"How long have we been buddies, now?" he asked quietly, turning out into the highway and heading south.

"Well, if you count the first time I caught you trying to look up my dress, it's exactly nine years," I laughed.

"I do count that one! And a very pretty sight, too."

I punched his arm. "Now cut that out!"

I stared off into the sunset and recalled the meticulously neat 21-year old standing at the foot of the high school stage. I had volunteered for a campaign and stood at the edge of the stage holding one end of a sign for some one. He had been so engrossed in trying to see up my short skirt that he didn't hear my question. I had just had my first baby and I knew that an old married lady had no business enjoying the attention. We were immediate friends and saw each other whenever there was a political event that needed volunteers.

Janet's suburban was a huge thing and it felt more like a truck to me. I leaned my head against the window and watched drowsily as the headlights cut a swath into the night. It wasn't very comfortable and that brought me to a fateful mistake, .. .. well maybe mistake is not the right word.

"Mark,- would you mind if I leaned on you instead of this hard cold window? I hate this big old truck."

"Mmmmm, as the big bad wolf would say, 'be my guest.'"

"Now cut that out!" I said. I scooted across the wide seat and pretended to puff up his shoulder in preparation for a long snooze.

We droned on through the night as I dozed off on my friend's shoulder with the masculine scent of his body rich in my nostrils. It was just like when I was a child and my father drove through the night with me sound asleep against him - or, with my head in his lap. It was a delicious feeling then and now.

The Dream

The pleasures of the past few days drifted across my mind. The sounds, the friends, the big name politicians, the jokes, the flirting, all those exciting elements that thrilled me so. Being involved in it was nearly sexual in the way it affected me. I was on a constant high at these events.

I drifted in and out of sleep several times and each time drifted back off. I slipped my heels off and curled my legs up on the seat, then snuggled deep into his shoulder, my hand resting on his forearm. The exhaustion set in and I fell deeper into sleep, waking only when we hit a bump or something interrupted the steady hum of the engine.

I noticed on one wakeful moment that my arm was resting on Mark's leg, my hand drifting down on the inside of his thigh. I could feel the warmth of his leg under my wrist. I stared down at my arm, lighted by the dashboard lights. I felt too tired to move it; I just stared at it. But then I noticed that there was a distinct bulge in his pants visible in the dimly lighted scene.

I knew that I should sit up. I knew that my arm should not be resting so warmly against his thigh. I knew that I should not be causing my dear Mark the discomfort of an erection, no matter how innocently it had begun. The bulge was lovely and it looked quite large in the orange glow of the instrument lights.

Without thinking, I rubbed my thighs together slightly, pleasurably, like a caress - or like a plaintive cry for a caress, which was it? I could hear the quiet whisp-whisp of my nylons; could he hear too? And would it be something sensual to him, drawing his awareness to my legs, to the warm secret place between my legs? I wondered. Or was he already aware of a faint sexual scent in the closed space of the car.

I raised my self, but as I did it, I accidentally touched the bulge in his pants with the back of my hand. I felt guilty immediately. I pretended it didn't happen.

"Are you OK? Want me to drive awhile?" I asked.

Mark shook his head, "I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

"Not in your way?"

He raised his arm and tucked me under it, shaking his head without comment.

I knew it was my second mistake, but I was so very tired, and it was so inviting to be cuddled when you are so tired.

Sleepily, I relaxed against him and let my arm fall once more onto his thigh, my head lolling against his chest. I stared down at the warm glow on his bulge and drifted into sleepy dreams once again. I felt the soothing touch of his hand on my hip, patting me softly.

In my dream, I saw poor Mark's left hand leave the steering wheel briefly to pull at his snug pants for more room for his cock. I could actually see his fingers rub the long length of cock now prominently visible under the dark pant leg. In the dim light, I watched dreamily as another, slimmer hand replaced his fingers and pressed soothingly along the length of cock and patted it gently. I felt it harden and lengthen still more. It was warm and hard and my panties suddenly felt quite wet.

We droned through the night, warm and full of feelings of human comfort. His hand was still on my hip, but his fingers found the line of my panties and slowly fondled it with soft fingertips, until it disappeared under the cheek of my bottom.

My right hand now cupped his balls and his cock, my finger tips deep down under him. I heard him moan his pleasure softly and felt him squirm to give me more room to grip him.

Touching

I found myself thinking how disappointed my husband David has been when he asked me to describe my high school sexual experiences with other men. He found the idea so exciting that just asking me to tell him made his cock get bigger and harder as he shuddered his pleasure into me.

I wonder if it would be exciting to tell him about this drive? This feeling of excitement in my stomach - at feeling the cock of someone not my husband. And increasing moist warmth between my legs. Would those be exciting details for him to hear whispered hoarsely as we coupled?

I heard the car slowing and my reverie dissolved. I tried to avoid giving him one last squeeze before pulling my hand away. I sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Maybe he hadn't noticed, maybe I had just dreamed it all.

"Need gas," he said quietly. "Shall we get a cup of coffee?"

I nodded sleepily and put my hand back on his arm possessively while I probed with my toes for my heels.

"Think I lost my shoes!"

Mark opened the door and came to my side of the car. He swept his hand under the seat until he found my other shoe, then bowed graciously and held my shoe for me to slip my toe in.

"Are you just trying to look up my dress again?" My smile betrayed me as he leered and nodded. He gently squeezed my nylon-covered calf as he put on my shoe. I briefly pulled my skirt to mid thigh and watched as his eyes darted to the hem.

"What color?" I asked.

"White!'

"Wrong!" I giggled.

We drank our coffee and looked at each other sleepily.

"I shouldn't have leaned against you like that. I'm sorry. I should have stayed on my side. Perhaps I should not be your campaign manager?"

"Oh, no! You can't get away that easily. Don't say that."

"But .. .."

"No, it's OK. Friends. A friend thing, .. really! Delightful. Are you OK? I'm .. .. well, terrific."

"Sure?" I asked.

"Sure!" he said.

I nodded, and looked away.

"I have a cabin on the Au Sable. Not far away. .. .. would you?"

"No, I have to get home. You know. Getting late. But, thanks."

In the ladies room I looked at myself in the mirror for a long minute, I wasn't quite sure why, but I slipped my pantyhose down and off and stuffed them into my purse. I gave myself a dirty look on the way out.

I sat on my own side of the car for a while and we made small talk.

After half an hour, he held his hand out to me and I slipped across the seat and snuggled against his warmth once again. I pressed my lips briefly against his cheek, and then pressed my cheek against his shoulder. I put my hand back on his leg and felt his lips nuzzle my hair in a kiss.

His hand rested on my thigh as we settled in once more. He noticed that my legs were now bare under the dress and it occurred to me that I was being a bit obvious.

"It feels good to get out of pantyhose after 12 hours." I offered. My conscience whispered to me that I was saying that to make him even hotter. Men think of our underwear as sex objects, I know that, but it slipped out.

"You feel nice -- even without them."

"You're so sweet."

When his hand slipped between my legs, I parted them a little to invite him closer. I slipped my hand over his bulge once again. It felt different. Looser, freer. I realized that he had taken off his underwear. Slowly, I searched for his zip and found it already unzipped. I slipped my hand inside and immediately felt the masculine hair of his body and then the hard erect cock waiting for my touch.

I curled my hand around it and felt it slide against my wrist, its warmth a pleasure on my skin. I grasped his balls and pressed my wrist against the underside of his length. It felt hot and very hard, yet a velvety softness under my exploring hand.

Mark parted my legs and his hand slipped up my thigh, pushing my skirt ahead of him. We snuggled against each other, my thigh pressed tightly against his. I felt the first contact of his hand on my panties and the shock was surprisingly acute.

"This is a first, Mark, .. .. I mean .. since I got married."

" I think I know that, Beth," he said quietly, and squeezed my leg.

He moaned as my hand explored the bareness of his huge, threatening hardness. I looked down and admired the cock jutting straight up in the orange light of the instruments. My hand was tight around his shaft. The head and three inches of shaft jutting above my grip formed a powerful image of strength and strident need. My mouth was dry with excitement as I looked at the great mushroom ofa head and the deep ridge just behind it. With my other hand I explored that deep ridge with a fingertip. It was beautiful but slightly frightening in its taut strength.

"Yellow," he whispered.

I nodded and smiled, then squeezed his dick in reply.

"I'm afraid you have made them a little wet, though."

"I love that, too." he muttered. His finger slipped past the tight leg band and touched my very moist slit. It was my turn to tense up and suck in my breath.

We seemed all alone in the night, the headlights sweeping a path before us through the total blackness of the Michigan countryside.

Two hands gently caressed in the darkness. He asked me to stop a moment and I put that lovely dick back inside his pants and for a little while contented myself with teasing its head lightly with the tips of my fingernails.

Mark pulled his hand away from me and I watched as he brought his glistening finger to his lips and tasted my pussy and then made a quiet purring noise. I squeezed the head of his dick in reply.

Showing

"I really have to get home, .. .." I began, "but, maybe we could park a minute before we get there, .. .. I want to kiss .. .." I whispered the last into his ear. A shiver ran through me and I slipped my hand inside his pants once more, my hand finding the soft warm skin of his big cock, and sliding further to cup his balls.

I snuggled closer and he hugged me closer. He fondled my breast for the first time and I pressed it into his cupped hand. We headed into the off-ramp to a rest area and mark parked far down toward the end of the empty parking lot. He turned the headlights off, but the instrument panel lights remained on. Mark turned toward me and our lips met as he slid toward me, easing himself out from under the steering wheel. His tongue slipped between my lips and I felt my body shudder with pleasure. It was like the memory of my very first French kiss, thrilling from top to bottom. I eagerly responded with a darting tongue as his hand slipped between my legs and fondled my pussy,

"I want to see you."

"OK." I replied, and leaned back against the door and raised my skirt.

He looked around to be sure we were still alone and turned on the inside light. My yellow panties gleamed between parted legs. I glanced down to see the outline of my patch of dark hair and the dark spot of my sexual excitement. I watched his reaction and it was thrilling to see how excited he was to look at the firm prominent mound between my legs..

"I need to go shopping. These are getting a little tattered. Should have worn something nicer if I'd known .. .. if I'd known .. .." I was babbling and I knew it. There was a catch in my throat that let him know how tense it was making me to brazenly show him my panties.

"Pretty,.. .. very pretty." He made it all right.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against the firm mound under my panties. I slipped my fingers into his hair and pressed him close as he continued to nuzzle my pussy. My eyes closed in pleasure and I slipped toward him, spreading my legs wider and pushing my pussy against his moving lips.

He raised his head and looked out at the parking lot again, though the windows had begun to steam over with our body heat. His hands were fondling my bottom through the satin panties as his lips returned for another soft kiss. This time, my tongue led the way, probing along his lips and then opening them with pointed insistence.

His hands explored and slowly found their way up to cup both breasts.

"Should we turn out the lights?" I reminded him.

"Let me see them first?"

I unbuttoned my dress and watched his eyes devour the sight of my breasts bulging from a lacy bra. His hands slipped inside my dress and lifted my breasts so he could press a kiss between them. My hands pressed him close and the feeling of his hands and his lips on my breasts sent an electric thrill down my body and seemed to go straight to my pussy which was now even wetter under the snug panties.