Deep in the folds of his smooth silk boxers, his cock was beginning its struggle, Viagra-less, to stand at attention. He spread his legs apart another inch. His cock was extended; he could feel its four-and-a- half inch length touch the quivering fat of his thigh. He lifted his ass off the chair for a second and twisted his body with a shake, managing to get his cock to lie against the seat of his chair. When he sat his ass back down on the chair, his cock was underneath his thigh, wedged between thigh and chair, ready to be stroked every time he moved his leg. It kept his cock hard to sit this way. But he knew it kept him alert, took his conversation past smart into brilliant.
Comfortable now, Swift continued explaining the ways of the liberal to Holly. He was in his best attack mode, free association running rampant. He explained how Eleanor Roosevelt (Rosenberg was how his parents had referred to her) had meddled in the coal mines and about women's rights.
He was unable to hide the contempt he felt for that former first lady. Swift didn't remember how they had begun speaking about Eleanor Roosevelt. He didn't really have many facts about her at the ready. But Swift never let facts get in the way. She was a communist, look at the clothes she wore. She had buck teeth, probably a lesbo. She was ugly and that was why she was for women's rights. Swift was on a tear. He moved to his other favorite topics. The unions just wanted their worker's money so they could elect democrats. Corporations would take care of their workers without the union's interference, blah, blah, blah.
Swift stopped to take a breath and Holly jumped in, "Yes, I really learned from you how the liberals really are trying to control the people so they can turn us all into atheistic communists."
Swift felt that tinkle of a flutter again, that slight movement deep in the recess of his silk boxer shorts where his cock was snug and comfy. He pushed his thigh forward, creating smooth pressure for his cock. It felt good.
Swift glanced at Holly Poppa's Facebook page for inspiration. The picture of her in a bathing suit was really hot. Her tits were nice and round, firm. Swift rocked back and forth over his cock, driving it along under his fat thigh, sliding it along the ridge of his seat.
"You make everything so clear," Holly affirmed. "I am soooo proud to be on the radio and to be talking with you. It is such an honor."
Swift felt that tinkle of a flutter again, that movement deep in the recess of his silk boxer shorts. It happened. He ejaculated. Perfect. He felt free now to once again show his feeling, his understanding and his earnest sympathy for even the youngest of his listeners, and, by extension, to all of his listeners and all of mankind, even liberals.
"You sound as if you are an intelligent, well-informed young woman. Eighteen years old, are you? I am sure you are a pretty young lady, too."
"Oh thank you. Thank you Mr. Birchbaum. I really try to learn stuff.....I mean Swift, Swift......I really try to learn stuff about everything from you. My Mom says that you are so smart."
His caller had only mentioned her mother. His researcher had contacted the mother's minister as part of the hurried anti-liberal vetting process in the seconds before Swift spoke to Holly on the phone. The minister had vouched for Holly and for her mother, sort of hinting, to Swift's mind at least, that he had fucked the mother.
Swift wondered how this girl's mother, who he imagined as being a bit sexier than the innocent girl, a bit rounder at the hips and, of course, lonely, would react if a warm hearted person like Swift himself was would offer succor.
But his control room was gesturing. It was time to make money, time for his commercials.
"You are a person who is brave and not afraid to speak up." He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, "Keep educating yourself. Don't let the main stream newspapers or the teacher lackeys of the liberals poison your mind. You will go far."
Swift's microphone was off. He relaxed. He let his mind wander. He was imagining fucking young Holly when a voice from the control room interrupted Swift's reverie: "Beautiful, Mr. Branchbaum. You handled that young girl with great aplomb. You are the greatest."
Swift smiled at the confirmation of his talent. It came from his own people, but he was sure it was sincere and heartfelt, just as sincere and heartfelt as his conversation with the young listener had been.
###########
Hedda Branchbaum held the long, wet cock in her hand. It was slimy, coated with his and her cum and finally soft. "I am going to go upstairs and wash up. Mr. Branchbaum will be home in a couple of hours."
"Mister Branchbaum. That is so cold.You really don't like him," Orenthal said. "How come you married him?"
Hedda stood up. Man, she was a looker, thought Orenthal Jackson as he let his eyes search her body. Long, shapely legs, nice firm ass, lovely tits with prominent nipples, flat stomach, and that sweet, pretty face with lips that announced they existed for fellatio.
"I needed the money," she said. "I told you I was a whore."
Orenthal said nothing but apparently was not happy with Hedda putting herself down.
"I had to do something after Broward died. He was rich enough to piss away two fortunes, but pissing away three fortunes was just two much. When he died I was left with a Mansion I couldn't afford the upkeep on, debts I was just about able to cover and nothing much else. I was exactly the woman Swift was looking for after his last divorce. I had travelled in the circles he wanted to join. I had been a member of the club since I was born. Rich dad, society mom, cotillion babe. I fit for him. He was super stud with me, the nympho slut, on his arm. In college, I was a Kappa, President of the sorority. When I was a junior, I was ass fucked by both the presidents of the Beta Nu's and the Lambda Gamma's. My rep as the major slut of my group was made. Broward could care less. He was a generous, loving husband. Too bad he was a stinker of a business man. Ol' Swift, the limp tool fool is a lot of things, but bad businessman is not one of those things. Look, Swift, my husband, your boss, will be taking me out for dinner. Tomorrow, we visit Scott Landsford."
End of Chapter 2. In Chapter 3 Hedda is seduced by Scott (if seduced is the right word) while Swift, no cuckold he, doesn't know what is happening. Stay tuned.
