Goddess Ch. 07

Tom tugged at the collar of his dress shirt in distress.

"Remind me again why I'm attending this snobby nonsense?" he asked.

"Because A, I finally got the nerve to introduce you to my parents, B, a dinner party gives us an excuse to hide in a crowd if needed, C because this white dress looks amazing on me, and D because you look even more amazing than usual in that tux," Sydney said, readjusting his tie. "Now for God's sake, try to keep your politics somewhat moderate tonight."

She gave his cheek a kiss then rang the doorbell.

Tom fiddled with his tie before muttering, "I make no promises". The door was answered by Alan, who was also dressed in a tuxedo in lieu of the baggy attire he walked around the dorm halls with.

"Well, if it isn't my widdle sister!" he said in a snarky tone "And there's the commie himself! C'mon in, Mom and Dad have been wanting to see the two of you!" The house was filled with buffet tables and lit chandeliers. Various big-wigs of the political and economic spheres of society chatted each other up, sipping champagne and laughing.

Sydney grasped Tom's hand and said quietly, "Just for the night, OK?" Tom sighed and nodded, continuing to walk forward as Alan lead the way upstairs. Tom's eyes twitched at the sight of all the decadence. Whilst these spoiled, pampered, and privileged few enjoyed fine wines and lobster, there were thousands of their fellow human beings worldwide deprived and made to suffer indignity.

"No no, stay calm. For Sydney" he thought "Just for one night. Just one night." Alan lead the pair to a large room on the third floor of the house, where a small group of people sat at a long table sipping cognac and smoking cigars.

"Oh mother!" Alan called out. A woman at the right-end of the table, with a full glass of wine got up. She was just around her 60s, in a dark blue blazer with a small gold necklace, and a poofy, faded blonde haircut. She rushed excitedly from the table and embraced the siblings.

"Oh, Alan, Sydney! So good to see you again!" she said. She turned to Tom and shook his hand with great intensity. "Oh, and this must be Tom! So nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you as well, Senator Brednar." Tom said nervously.

"Oh, I'm away from the office, you can call me Mrs. Brednar," she said "Come, come, have a seat. As I understand from Alan you're quite the political thinker. I do like to talk shop when I'm not stuck in an office".

Sydney looked nervously at Tom, who in turn shrugged. The three took a seat down at the end of the table, near Mrs. Brednar. Alan wore a tremendous smirk and eyed Sydney. Sydney looked away in frustration, then gave a nervous look to Tom.

"Please don't sound like an extremist." she thought repeatedly to herself.

Underneath the table, her fists were clenched and she was trembling.

"So Tom," Mrs. Brednar said "Alan tells me you're a union man. I assume the Democratic Party can count on your vote in the coming midterms then? You know I'm up for re-election soon and we need all the help we can get. Perhaps your union could give some support?".

Tom paused, looked to Sydney, then looked back at Mrs. Brednar, who was smiling with the falsest grin one could conceive.

"The IWW doesn't endorse politicians, it's in our constitution. As for me, I vote for a candidate if they can convince me they'll do some good locally/" Tom said coolly.

"Well, surely you don't want a Republican in the Senate? I mean, have you seen them lately?"

"Mrs. Brednar, with all due respect, lesser of two evils isn't much of an argument for me."

"Well, the Democratic Party's always supported the unions!"

"The Democrats have given small gestures of support to the AFL-CIO. And even then they bent over backwards for neoliberal economic policy in the '90s, from which they never really turned back."

"Well, the UAW supported Hillary!"

"Yeah, and we all know how she felt about the unions. With all due respect, Mrs. Brednar, if you'd like my vote, or kind words to other IWW members, I'd need an actual convin-"

He stopped mid-sentence as he could feel Sydney's foot nudge nervously against his. She looked at him with a combination of frustration and nervousness. He took a deep breath and resumed his sentence in a much calmer manner.

"-I'd need to be convinced that you could do some good here for the community. I don't vote Democrat by default, nor does anyone in the union."

"You know mother, I think Tom wants more Republicans in power." Alan said slyly. Sydney gave him a death stare, but couldn't act on it since he was on the other end of the table and out of her foot's reach.

"I want no such thing." Tom said coldly.

"Well, who would you want in power?" Alan said in an escalating tone, with a devilish grin. Then Sydney realized it. Alan hadn't told their mother about Tom's politics. He wanted a reaction out of him. He wanted Tom to look bad.

"That prick!" she thought "Oh God, he's gonna get that reaction. Oh God Oh God Oh Go-"

"I want people in power," Tom said with a straight face "I believe those in power should be the people and nothing but. Nothing south of democracy, and nothing south of doing the most good for the community. And the truth of the matter is, no one person knows what's best for the people. No small clique either. It's the people or nothing". Sydney smiled. No matter how many times Tom talked about his ideals, there was always that beautiful, calming flicker of justice in his eyes. Her mother looked at him puzzled.

They continued their political debate for a solid half hour, between various dishes. Tom's tone never reached a boiling point, and nothing explicitly radical came out. The vast majority of the conversation revolved around policy and ideals. Alan's grin faded after a while, realizing he wasn't going to be able to make Sydney's evening miserable.

"I don't get it," he thought "This freaking loser was supposed to crack. What's going on?"

"-and to that I say, a modest alteration of the standing budget would do just fine." Tom said chuckling a bit. Mrs. Brednar gave him a wheezy laugh.

"Oh Tom, you are quite the comedian! And in such a man of opinion and conviction! Sydney, I tell you when your father gets back, him and Tom simply must meet!"

Alan's eyes widened, and his snarky grin returned. Sydney went pale.

"Oh Jesus, he doesn't even know," she thought "Oh Jesus Christ".

"I'll go get him, mother! I believe he's downstairs in the parlor shooting pool!" Alan said, springing into action.

Tom swirled a glass of cognac that had been brought to him earlier, then leaned into Sydney's ear and whispered, "I hope I'm performing alright. Feel free to break the tension whenever".

Alan returned with a man around the same age as Mrs. Brednar. He was quite fat and on the shorter side, with greying red hair, and a small scar across the right end of his lips, balancing part of his weight on a particularly thick cane.

"Oh, so this is the mystery man." Mr. Brednar said, approaching Tom, who rose up to accept a firm vice grip of a handshake "Eddie Brednar, CEO of Bluesteel Incorporated."

"Father, Tom here's a union man!" Alan said with a devilish grin.

"Oh ho ho, is he now? I assume you've heard of me then." said Mr. Brednar.

"Yes actually, as I understand it Bluesteel's had it's fair share of labor disputes," Tom said, continuing his straight face "Which on a side note Mr. Brednar, I have been sitting at this table discussing politics with Sydney's wonderful mother for the past forty-five minutes and my legs are just aching for some activity. I don't suppose we could walk and talk?"

"Oh ho ho, that'll be fine. Truth be told I should probably be doing some of that anyway."

The two vanished for the better part of twenty minutes. Sydney walked around the house trying to run into them. Her union boyfriend and her anti-labor father in the same conversation couldn't possibly end well. Finally, after about ten minutes of looking, she saw them standing near one of the buffet tables, with her father sipping some wine and paying close attention to Tom. She ran up and caught him at the tail end of a sentence.

"-and so Mr. Brednar, in the long run it actually suits you just fine to re-organize it into such a thing".

"Well Tom, I have to hand it to you, it's a bit liberal for my tastes, but I like the way you think. This idea would be a hard sell to the board, but it sounds intriguing all the same." said Mr. Brednar. The two men clinked their glasses together.

"Well, the two of you look like you're having a good time." Sydney said. They turned to her.

"Ah, Sydney! I tell ya, I didn't expect to like your boyfriend this much, but he's quite witty. He was just telling me about this thing ah-"

"Co-operative, Mr. Brednar"

"Co-operative, thank you, weird word. Worker owned business, never heard of the thing before, but your boyfriend makes a good argument for it. And I have to say, he has quite the quick wit. You've found a real winner here."

"Well thank you Dad." Sydney said, smiling at the two of them. Mr. Brednar turned to Tom.

"Tom, listen. Sydney tells me you're a musician, izzat right?"

"Proud guitarist of ten years."

"Well that's excellent, because the night's closing entertainment kinda quit on us. We were lookin' for something... ah what's the term Alan uses... ethnic. Think you can do that?"

"That sounds well within my capabilities." Tom said. He turned to Sydney "You think you could come out with me to my car, help me get some equipment?"

The couple made their way outside and Tom sighed, "Jesus Hamsterfucking Christ, that's exhausting!"

Sydney gave Tom a big, firm hug.

"Thank you." she said.

Tom looked down confused.

"For what?"

"For putting up with... well, all of that. Especially since my brother was trying to get a rise out of you the whole night." The couple started walking towards the end of the long driveway, at which Tom's car was parked.

"Yeah, I picked up on that with all his shit-eating grins. What's the deal with that?"

"Oh, Alan's a spoiled brat. Always has been. He gets pissy because Mom and Dad always praise me for doing well and taking pride in my work. So he tries making me and the people I love miserable."

"Ah, l'enfant terrible."

"Oui."

Tom's car was parked at the near end of the exceedingly long drive way. Parked near it in a haphazard, crooked manner was a mustard yellow Benz with some exceedingly dark tinted windows.

"And what gaudy asshole decided to buy this?" Tom asked, popping his trunk and fetching his guitar case.

"That looks like Alan's new car. Hideous fucking thing isn't it?" Sydney said. Tom paused for a moment and looked at it.

"I mean, paint it mostly red, maybe leave enough yellow on the hood for a hammer and sickle-". Sydney laughed and grabbed Tom by the sleeve, hurrying back in.

"Get political later." she said.

The pair made their way inside and Mr. Brednar directed Tom to a parlor room, wherein sat a mall stage with a generous amount of amplifiers. Tom popped his guitar case open, taking out a Gibson Firebird, with "KROPOTKIN WARNED Y'ALL" written on the pick guard. He tuned his instrument and connected it up to the amplifier. The Brednars rushed their guests into the parlor, and before he knew it Tom was surrounded by about every variation of the American ruling class one could think of.

"Good evening," he said "I am tonight's closing entertainment. I'd like to play just the one song. It's a very pretty one, it goes back just a little over fifty years. But before I do, I'd like to make a dedication. This goes out to everyone out there fighting for freedom. Not just American freedom, but freedom the world over. Let's get some international solidarity going, shall we? FOR FREEDOM!"

The crowd raised their glass and shouted "FOR FREEDOM!" Tom smiled.

"To the Zapatistas! FOR FREEDOM!"

"FOR FREEDOM!"

"To the Kurds fighting ISIS! FOR FREEDOM!"

"FOR FREEDOM!"

"To those fighting the Edrogan regime! FOR FREEDOM!"

"FOR FREEDOM!"

"Alright now, let's get this going. Now this song is in Spanish, it's called A Las Barricadas. There is an English translation, but it loses a lot of it's poetry in translation, so I'm going to be singing it in it's original form. Uno, dos, tres!"

Tom strung his guitar along and started singing with that wonderful, warm, smooth voice of his. Ironic of course, since he listened to punk music all the time. Sydney looked around at everyone having fun. Not a single person she knew in this room spoke a lick of Spanish, but Tom's natural charisma as a performer cut right through the language barrier. (That and about six years of Spanish). She couldn't have felt more relieved. She was certain that Tom would've fallen for Alan's bait, or worse that Tom would've been disgusted about her background. But he didn't seem to have a single care. This was the person she loved, and all her fears felt as though they'd vanished completely. Replaced almost immediately by her usual lust for him.

Tom finished his song after a few minutes, then spoke briefly with some people in the crowd before Sydney snatched him away from them. She gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Let's go back to your place." she said.

"What, now? It'd be a bit rude to-". He didn't even finish the sentence. He saw the fiery look in Sydney's eyes. It was the look she gave when she was horny and nothing short of sex was going to bring her down from it. The pair hurried out of the house and rushed to Tom's car. He threw his guitar and it's case haphazardly in the trunk, then started driving like his usual speed limit neglecting self.

"Drive slower." she said sternly. Tom looked at her confused.

"Just do it. Trust me". Tom slowed to the speed limit.

"OK but why though?" he asked. Before he got an answer, Sydney was fiddling with his belt and his zipper.

"Keep driving. Your Goddess has a blessing for you." She continued to fuss with his pants until she got his cock out, then wrapped her mouth around him, slowly bobbing her head up and down. Tom slowed down, going about ten miles under, and taking every detour he could. Sydney continued to move up and down his cock, occasionally taking it out just to lick the shaft like candy.

"Immaculate." she said, continuing her sensual feast. Tom was a couple miles within the dorm hall now, and Sydney was giving him all her attention.

She grasped the base of his cock with her index finger and thumb, moving up and down along with her mouth, to double his pleasure. She continued to intensify her efforts, until finally, as they pulled into the parking lot, he came in her mouth, and she licked him clean from the base of his shaft to the head of his magnificent prick. She licked her own lips clean and wiped her mouth. Tom put the car in park and laid his head back.

"Jesus... I didn't expect that at all" he panted. Sydney giggled, then brought her lips to Tom's, giving him a deep, loving kiss.

"I wanted to celebrate. I didn't expect that to go nearly that well." she said.

Tom smiled.

"I'm just glad I made you happy". He tucked his cock back in and re-did his belt and his zipper. The two made their way up to Tom's dorm. Sydney stretched and yawned.

"I'm going to go to bed. See you shortly dear."

Tom walked over to the kitchen to make himself some oatmeal. Then, he heard the sound of Casey's door open. He turned around and, to his total surprise...

"Cliff?!" he said dumbfounded.

"Hey," Cliff said, rubbing his eyes "Gotdamn your roommate's got a lot of anime. We been binging all day." Tom stood dumbfounded.

"Holy shit Casey works fast," Tom thought "Wait speaking of which where's-".

"Oh Cliiiiff!" came Casey's voice, with far more enthusiasm than usual. They hopped out of their room, wearing a maid uniform and cat ears. "If you wanna try another round on the bed I've got some cospla-".

Their eyes met Tom's. They froze, and turned whiter than coke in a snowstorm. Tom meanwhile was trying to hold back immeasurable laughter. Casey darted back into their room.

"A-ANIME IS BOURGEOIS!!" they screamed, slamming the door shut.

Tom laughed and turned to Cliff.

"I want you to know, this is officially the greatest day of my life".