Body Politic

"Why, if you don't care?" I asked, it seemed like a killer question.

"Activists give me something to write about and someone who really knows how to shake things up, not just shake her fist at power, she is going to provide a lot of interesting stories," she explained, "But you've got to learn how to play the game." And with that she took a deep drink of her new glass of wine.

"Amen," Kent said, smiling a little in awe of Carol. I guess I was too. She was pushing all of my buttons, hitting all of my professional insecurities all at once. Was I doing anything good? Was it my role to try to do good? Could I sustain this kind of career if I didn't ever get a win? I had been working so hard all week to get any traction and it wasn't working. And it went beyond this week; it felt like Carol and sort of summed everything up. I slumped down at my stool at the bar. Well, if nothing else, Carol had given me a lot to think about. Kent said something to Carol and they spoke briefly, but I wasn't paying attention. I thought back again to my humiliation at the press conference. Maybe Carol wasn't as full of shit as I wanted to believe. I sat for a while, not listening to them, just thinking.

"What do I do?" I asked suddenly, interrupting their conversation, "It's all fine and well to tell me to get power and use it, but what does that mean?" They looked at me, confused, for a moment.

"Come honey, don't be naïve, you know that. You have a youthful pair of tits, you know how power works" Carol said with a knowing look.

"What does that mean?" I said, confused.

"It means that you find something that gives you leverage. Then you apply it," Carol said and downed the last of her wine.

* * * * *

About two hours later it was well past dark and I was stumbling a little down the street towards my hotel. Kent and Carol had called it a night and I had decided I had better leave as well. I hadn't had as much to drink as Kent, but certainly more than I usually did on a work night. Or a Friday for that matter. I thought back on my day, my thinking seemed to become clearer in my drunken state.

I hadn't really engaged with Carol and Kent that much after Carol had explained to me her concept of power. I had just sort of sat in the bar and considered it. I knew, to a certain extent, that she was right. Posting little bits of anger and outrage on the internet wouldn't get things changed. But I also didn't really know how one went about collecting leverage. It sounds easy in the abstract, but where did I start? As I walked back to my hotel, I continued to consider all I'd learned that day.

In order to get to my hotel, I had to walk past the city hall. As I moved in front of it, I stopped for a moment and looked up. It was a simple municipal building with a charming brick façade and a small dome at the top. It looked like the seat of local power that it was and I shook my head.

"Fuck you," I slurred a bit to myself. I don't know if I was talking to the mayor or to myself or what, but it felt nice to say. Then I was suddenly struck by another idea.

"You can't keep me out. You think you hold all the goddamn cards because you do, but I have just as much a right to be here as you," I said. It made sense at the time. But I decided I was going to go back into the press room, when I wasn't supposed to, and I was going to ask my questions again and I would stand there in the empty room and wait and see if I got a better answer than the one I got from the mayor. It might have been a totally empty gesture and it might not have made any difference, but at least it would make me feel good. Carol wouldn't have liked it.

I climbed up the stairs to the front door. Actually it was a bank of doors. I started with the farthest on the left but it was locked. Slowly, I worked my way down, checking each one. The farther I went, the less and less certain I was that I was going to find a door that would open. But finally, on the second to last door, as I gave an exceptionally hard pull, the door swung wide open.

I walked into the abandoned city hall, waiting for security guards or police officers to rush in at any moment and arrest me. But the building was still and silent. Several lights were on, but not many. I didn't even hear the sound of a janitor. It felt a little ominous now, and I stood for a moment in the reception area and just sort of soaked it in. Then I remembered why I was there.

The mayor's press room was on the third floor, the same floor as her office. I quickly walked over to the stairwell (wincing as my heels clicked on the marble floor) and started to make my way up. In a few minutes I was on the darkened third floor. I made my way over to the press room, the scene of my earlier misfortune. It felt suddenly drained of all power, like I was seeing it with its clothes off. It was dark and small and didn't feel at all like an intimidating arena that someone was trying to shut me out of.

I walked up to my seat from earlier in the day and stood in front of it. I looked up to the dais in front of the room. I took a deep breath and got all of my thoughts together. This was going to go exactly the way it was supposed to go this time. I opened my mouth to speak and...stopped.

I heard something, I couldn't quite make out what it was. But I felt a prickle in my skin and a sense of nervousness I hadn't felt a moment before. I stopped moving and listened intently. For a moment there was absolute silence. I was about to start to move anyway, when I heard it again. Now that I was focusing I could tell it was laughter. Just a small amount of laughter. It was coming from the opposite side of the third floor.

At first I thought that the smartest plan would be to get out of the building. If someone were there who had the right to be there saw me, I could get into serious trouble. But, being a reporter, and a drunk one at that, my curiosity got the better of me. Who was in the building? Why? All thoughts about consequences for my actions flitted out of my head. I moved out into the hallway.

Now that I looked, I could see a light on at the end of the hallway, underneath a door. It was the mayor's office. The mayor was in and she was laughing about something. I wondered what it could possibly be. I started to slowly make my way across the floor, past offices and copy machines and the like. I walked past the little reception desk that sat directly in front of the mayor's office. I crept as quietly as humanly possible, but quickly as well. I felt my heart pounding. I don't know if I knew intuitively that something interesting was occurring or that I was just getting off on creeping around, but it was fun.

Finally, I made it up to the door. It was open the slightest crack, but at first I was afraid to look in, afraid that I would somehow block something and get notice. But I heard a strange sound. Not a laugh like before, but I muffled noise that was hard to place. I had to see what was causing it. I slowly slid around to the side of the door. I titled my head slightly and looked into the Mayor's heavily illuminated office and I saw...the Mayor and her aide Hena. Kissing passionately!

For a moment my head reeled. None of this made any sense! I could not be seeing this! But there it was, in front of me. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. But as I watched them, I began to feel... strange. Their kisses weren't just passionate, they were electrifying. The last conscious thing I remember doing was grabbing out my phone, clicking the video button and pointing it towards the action. After that all I could do was watch.

Mayor Barker...maybe I will just call her Sara for this, it will be a little awkward to refer to her by title...Sara and Hena were sitting on a couch in the mayoral office. It was directly in front of me, about fifteen feet away, from the opening of the door. There was a table in front of the couch with a bunch of papers scattered about it. There were two big bottles of diet cola sitting on top of the papers. It was clear that Sara and Hena had been working late into the night and were now doing a different sort of work.

Sara was still wearing the tight red dress and white blouse she'd worn earlier in the day, but her suit jacket was removed, showing how large her breasts were when not confined in fabric. Her knees were together and her feet spread apart on the floor and she was leaning over towards Hena. Her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders giving her a sexy, disheveled look. Her left arm was resting across the back of the couch and her right hand was resting on Hena's left thigh.

Hena was sitting right next to Sara. Unlike Sara, it looked like she had changed after work. The unflattering pants suit was nowhere to be found. Instead, Hena was wearing a pair of skin tight yoga pants (a particular favorite of mine) and an equally tight white t-shirt that fell just four inches or so below her breasts, exposing her slim mid-rift. Even from the distance I could see Hena's black bra showing through her t-shirt. Hena was barefoot and her legs were curled up underneath of her on the couch. Her left hand gently rested on Sara's waist and her right hand was placed lovingly on Sara's cheek.

And the women were kissing. Both of their eyes were closed and their lips were pressed together. I saw Hena's mouth open and Sara's did as well. Their tongues poured out of their own mouths and then into the space between them. I could hear the wet, enticing sounds of their tongues pressing together. I could hear a groan escape from Sara's mouth and saw Hena smile around their kiss as she heard it as well. Hena made her tongue rigid and I watched as Sara slowly started to bob her head back and forth on the tongue, sucking it gently.

While they were kissing, Hena's left hand began to move. First it started to press harder into Sara's waist. Then her fingers started to crawl up Sara's body. I saw her fingernails gently tickled the bottom of Sara's right breast. Sara opened her eyes and gently grabbed Hena's hand and moved it away from her breast. She let Hena's tongue fall from her mouth, but gave it one last quick lick.

"No, No, No," she said coyly, "You know what I need first." Hena bit her lower lip and nodded. Then the young aide jumped up from the couch and walked slinkily around the coffee table. She stopped facing right towards the door, her back to Sara. (At this point I absolutely froze, even holding my breath, as Hena was only about eight feet away and facing me, but I kept the camera running).

"Something like this?" Hena asked. She turned and looked over her shoulder for a moment. Sara leaned forward on the couch, putting her elbows on her knees. Her breasts squeezed together, pushing out her cleavage. Sara nodded and spoke in a baby-doll voice.

"Do what I like baby," Sara said. (Any thought that it was in any way a first time, or a sort of one-off thing disappeared at this moment). Still facing away from Sara, Hena grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and tossed it across the room. She was still facing me and I saw her smooth stomach, gently curved hips and black bra exposed. Her work clothes had not done her justice! She was stunning. The body of a bikini model.

But she wasn't done yet. Now she reached behind her back, finding the hooks to her bra. She unhooked it and quickly worked the bra down her arms and tossed it as well. She was still facing me and I saw her beautiful breasts. They were incredibly perky, bouncing out of her bra like they were still being held there. Her nipples were about the size of quarters and short, and a dense chocolate color.

Now she turned, but not completely. She stood to the side so that her left arm was facing Sara and her right arm was facing me, giving me a gorgeous profile shot of her body. The way her flat stomach rose up to the softly angled bottom of her breast and then to the delicious points of her nipple, only to recede back in a slightly convex shape up to her throat was stunning. And I was also enticed by the way her long, black hair cascaded down her back. Her head was turned slightly so that she was looking at Sara.

"How do I look?" Hena asked, and rather than use the sort of faux-sultry porn voice she'd affected before, it seemed like she was actually asking this time. I could sense a little vulnerability in her voice. Sara paused a moment before speaking.

"You look...beautiful," she said and Hena smiled widely. Then Hena reached up with her hands and cupped the underside of both of her breasts.

"Really?" she said, more playfully now. She shook her reddish brown breasts slightly, and watched as her nipples hardened in the cool office air.

"Incredible," Sara said. Hena giggled in a youthful way (that reminded me that she was probably only 20 or so). Hena started to squeeze her breasts tighter and she fingered her nipples gently. Doing so clearly had an effect on her and I watched as she arched her back a bit, closed her eyes and moaned. Sara shifted on the couch. I could now see her nipples poking out ever slightly from blouse. Hena rolled her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers and let out a little squeal.

"Oh God!" she moaned. Sara shifted again.

"Okay," she said, seeming very hot and bothered, "Stop torturing me and do what I like!" she begged.

"Take you shirt off," Hena said and Sara's eyes got big.

"That isn't how we play this game," Sara said, sounding like she was actually a little put out by the request. Hena seemed to know she was pushing something. She slowly bent over at the waist, pushing her ass far out into the air. She still cupped her breasts in her hand.

"Please," she said. For a moment Sara just looked at her. But the older woman's eyes moved all over Hena's body and it was clear her will was broken.

"Fine," she said with a sigh, "but you didn't say anything about the bra!" Then Sara quickly unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it onto the floor. Her large, and surprisingly perky, breasts were encased in a thrilling red bra that would've looked scandalous on a porn star, let alone a conservative mayor. But once she was out of the shirt, she crossed her arms in front of her tits and leaned back into the couch. (I was surprised, for a woman approaching middle age, her stomach looked flawless, I don't know what she did to keep it that way. But seriously: kudos.)

Hena seemed to accept that she'd gotten all of the concessions she was going to get out of her boss. She released her breasts and then reached back to her hips. While she did this, she turned so that her back was to the mayor. She slipped her fingers into the waistband of her yoga pants. Slowly, she worked the pants back around her round ass; exposing more and more of her brown skin (it was readily apparent she wasn't wearing panties).

As the pants slipped over the bulge of her ass, Hena once again stood up. The pants slipped down her legs and pooled on the floor at her feet. She quickly stepped out of them and stood naked in the mayor's office. Her legs were long and perfectly proportioned. And, from my angle, I got an unobstructed view of her pussy. She had a small patch of well-kempt black hair above tight looking brown lips. I could see the little nub of her hard clit from that distance and could almost smell the thin film of clear liquid that was erupting from inside of her.

Now she turned and faced Sara. Her ass looked tight and her long hair fell all the way down and touch just above her hips. I thought she was going to walk over to Sara now. But I was mistaken. Instead, she slowly dropped down onto the floor, sitting her bare ass down on the dirty office carpet. Then she leaned back. She tucked her left arm under the neck so that as she put her head down, she was propped up slightly, looking towards Sara on the couch (And luckily keeping her eyes where they wouldn't be looking at my narrow crack in the door). I got a thrill seeing the way her pert breasts splayed out across her chest as she laid down, her nipples looking even more prominent in that position.

Then, Hena lifted her legs in the air and then spread them wide apart. She gently lowered them so that her heels landed on the coffee table, in a slightly inclined position. Her ass was just slightly off the ground now and her dripping pussy was facing Sara. I could see the mound of her pussy thrust slightly into the air. Sara's eyes were firmly planted on Hena's body, and the mayor did not move.

"What does looking at me make you want to do?" Sara asked, her voice sounding thick now. Her face was flushed and I could see her chest rising and falling rapidly. I felt like I could see her heart beating in her chest.

"I want to play with myself!" Hena gasped. Her free hand, the right, was gently kneading one of her breasts, playing with the nipple. Her hips rocked in the air and she twisted slightly. I could hear her panting. The little strip show had clearly gotten her motor running. (And mine too, I could feel my cock pressing hard against my panties, but I couldn't even think to touch it.)

"Then do it baby," Sara said, just above a whisper. Hena's hand snaked down off of her breast, giving her nipple one last little flip before gliding across her ribs, over her flat stomach, and nestling into her little patch of pubic hair. Hena gasped loudly as her finger grazed her clitoris. A tremble moved through her entire body. Her fingers slipped lower, rubbing against the juices that were dripping from her pussy. When her fingers were sopping wet she moved them back to her clitoris.

Now that her fingers were lubricated, Hena's hand moved quickly around her pussy. It looked like she was putting her middle and fore-finger together and quickly circling them over her clit. Occasionally, she would dip back down to her open pussy, get her fingers wetter, and then move back up to her clit. She was moaning slightly as she played with herself and her legs trembled on the coffee table. Sometimes, her hips would thrust up into the air, the bottoms of her feet flattening onto the coffee table and her tits moving up towards her face. The whole time, her eyes stayed intently on Sara.

At first, Sara stayed in the position she'd taken since she had taken off her shirt, leaning back with her arms crossed. But as Hena got more and more involved in her actions, Sara seemed that she was feeling it more. Her arms dropped and her nipples were now like little beads in her bra and her breathing was even lighter than before. Around the time that Hena lifted her fingers once to her mouth and licked off her own juices, Sara seemed like she could barely take stand to look professional and detached anymore.

She nestled back into her couch, her large breasts jiggling as she did so. For a moment, she just watched from that position. But then I saw her breath in deeply. From where I was sitting I could smell Hena's sex in the room, it was intoxicating. I was sure that where Sara was located, the scent was overwhelming. Sara carefully reached down unzipped her skirt (it helpfully zipped on the side). When it was all the way unzipped, she flung it off of her lap, exposing her beautiful legs and her cute red panties. As soon as the skirt was unzipped her legs splayed open, giving me an amazing view of her inner thighs. Her body looked incredible. Not just for a woman her age, but for a woman half her age. I could see that her panties were wet (as though there had been any doubt that she was enjoying the show).

Sara lifted her ass off the couch and slipped her fingers into the waist band of her panties. Her legs briefly went back together. I watched as her panties slid down her hips, over her knees, and then down onto the floor. She even kicked them off her small foot in a particularly sexy way. Once she was disrobed (with the exception of her bra) her legs split open again. Sara had soft, smooth pink pussy lips and an inflamed, red clit that seemed to be begging to be played with. She also had a small, well-kempt patch of hair, but hers was a particularly cute little bit of blonde shaved into a landing strip.