MaryAnn Ch. 02byMaryAnn678©
Few outside that room would look at MaryAnn and guess she held -- or even participated in -- sex orgies. In her real life, the one that took up ninety percent of the time, she was a serious writer and one of the best. She wrote feature stories and was associate editor for a large, regional magazine. Thanks to the Internet and the telephone she was able to work at home most of the time. She had to go into the office, nearly one hundred miles away, only for staff meetings.
The publisher didn't care how many hours she put in as long as she continued to turn out quality work, and she did. Thus she was also able to spend a considerable amount of time at the job she felt compelled to do -- save the world from itself. Opinion pieces flew here and there. Many showed up in America's top magazines and newspapers. Her interest in politics brought her full circle to Jeri, her close friend and a former sorority sister at the University.
Jeri was married to Fritz Overmeyer. Fritz was a top-notch lawyer who, like MaryAnn, wanted to save the world. It's a syndrome that afflicts the handful of people who actually take the time to think in a country infested with easy answers of superstition and dogma.
Fritz decided to enter politics and he got the party's endorsement in his district, one virtually conceded to the opposition. California lagged only behind Texas in gerrymandering, and a safe district was a safe district. After running unopposed in the primary, Fritz, a newcomer to politics, would be this year's token opponent for Charley Oswald, a Congressman firmly ensconced in Washington.
MaryAnn loved the idea of being in an uphill fight. She sensed a weakness in Oswald. He had been in Washington just too long and was smugly overconfident. But it was more than just the idea of a good, rousing fight. Fritz represented what she wanted to see in Washington and his opponent represented what she detested.
With the enthusiasm that characterized her writing, she jumped into the fray. Initially she wrote columns lauding the newcomer. Then, with Jeri's enthusiastic encouragement, she volunteered to work, pro bono, directly for Overmeyer. MaryAnn wrote press releases, and helped Fritz shape his own opinion pieces. They were clear, concise and compelling. The ideas were his, the words and style hers. She even hosted a big fund raising party -- one where folks kept their clothes on and their hands to themselves -- so far as she could tell.
As the campaign wore on Fritz made some inroads and was doing better than expected, but he was still behind, seemingly destined to be only a "stalwart opponent." Only a brave smile from him, Jeri, and his staff showed the optimism that few actually felt. They knew how difficult it would be to unseat the sitting congressman in his safely gerrymandered district.
Then Ron came through. A journalist himself, he had all sorts of inside contacts. One was a staffer for Overmeyer who had signed on as an idealistic supporter, but who got fed up with what he saw going on. He made copies of a hundreds of damning papers which showed his boss was involved up to his corpulent hips in bribery.
This belied his chauvinistic bragging that he did what was best for our brave soldiers. In fact, he had taken huge cash payments in order to push legislation that would benefit his backers no matter the consequences to the fighting men. Greedy, jingoistic, but dumb, he even kept a copy of a price list he gave to contractors!.
Ron told MaryAnn, "This no blow job scandal cupcake. This is the real McCoy and we got the goods backed up with solid proof. We can blow this guy out of office."
She looked at the information. It revealed a long, methodical tale of selling votes for money. My God this could result in an indictment! The evidence was damning and verifiable. MaryAnn sought a private conference with Fritz and Jeri. "How's about if I guarantee your victory in November? Like the idea?"
The candidate and his wife looked at each other in disbelief. Finally Jeri answered, "Of course. But we feel we're going to win. What's the big deal."
"The big deal is you think you are going to win when everybody who knows politics is certain you won't. Oh you'll do much better than originally expected but this district is solid and it will take a something spectacular to head him off. I have something spectacular and all we have to do is keep it secret until next week's debate. That will give you time to get your act together. It will send you to Washington, and Charles Oswald to jail. Best of all you will present it in such a dramatic way it cannot be denied, and his constituents will have to turn away from him."
A week later Fritz and his opponent took part in a locally televised debate. As expected, it didn't draw a big TV audience, but representatives of all the news media had to be there -- certain they would be bored. As it turned out, each got the story of his life, and each wished he had an exclusive to the fracas.
After the obligatory set of questions from the appointed reporters, each candidate was allowed to question the other. When it came his turn, Fritz pulled a large sheaf of papers from his jacket pocket. The top piece was a copy clearly labeled with Oswald's letterhead. Fritz made sure Oswald saw it.
Oswald did and he turned white. Fritz started asking questions about item after item. It was a long list of contracts, one after the other. Oswald had guided each through his House committee, then through congress itself. Many were items military officers denied even wanting. In each case Fritz had convincing evidence that Oswald had been paid either directly or by finagled real estate deals.
The race was over forthwith. Oswald tried to put up a brave front, claiming "out of context" over and over. But he was clearly crushed in the debate. The next day nearly every paper in the country blared the information in its headlines. Within a week the FBI had seized his records. An indictment was coming. Charles bravely "stayed the course," but the electorate had the last word. A man that crooked could not represent them, no matter that he was "their sort of person."
Fritz Overmeyer was going to go to Washington. A day after the election, won by a four to one margin, Jeri called on MaryAnn.
"Now what?" Jeri asked her old classmate, sorority sister, and partner in politics.
"Now you get to help run the country," said MaryAnn. "You like that?"
"I think so but . . . Aw hell old friend. Nobody really expected this. Now we will have to live in the spotlight. That's a terrible lot to ask of anybody."
"It sure as hell is and I don't envy you one bit. I am in the spotlight too. My picture is on the cover of a few books. There's my mug every month in the magazine. I'm on the air as a 'talking head' every so often. But for all that nobody gives a damn how I drive, much I drink, whether I write my mother regularly, or with whom I might have sex. You won't have such luxuries as long as Fritz stays in Washington."
Jeri nodded then asked, "MaryAnn we have always been the closest of friends, right?"
"Sure we have."
Clearly something was bothering Jeri. She continued, "I still remember the chats we had about sex. My god, your story about when you deliberately lost your cherry to that sailor was awesome." Jeri, blushed, "You don't know how often I thought of that. Hell I even fantasized about it."
MaryAnn was flattered that her story had made such an impression on her friend. She replied, "That was exciting and I remember it just as vividly. They didn't call me 'hand job Mary' after that? For my last year of college I didn't just stop with hand jobs."
Jeri said, "You and I were an anomaly in college weren't we MaryAnn. You waited until you were twenty and I didn't do it until Fritz came along. And I haven't done it with anybody else since, but lately. . . " Her voice trailed off.
"Lately? Come one old friend. Don't give me half the story. We are friends, and we have never had secrets. And one more thing, if we're going to talk sex let's use the words that describe what we're saying. As journalists neither of us should be afraid of words. Can you say 'fuck?'
Jeri laughed then took a deep breath, "Fuck yes you silly cunt!" They both laughed, the Jeri finished her thought, "Lately Fritz has been trying to get me to do someone. . . uh, fuck, someone else."
MaryAnn gave with a big smile, "And I bet he wants to watch doesn't he?"
"Oh God how did you know"
"He's forty. He knows his marriage is secure. You're a passionate gal, and the sexiest one in town. He figures you'll get off on it big time. For many men it's a turn-on in a class by itself."
"MaryAnn, did you ever think of fucking someone else?"
"Not ever," asked Jeri.
"Oh yes I thought about it a lot. Then I actually tried it. Now I don't have to wonder."
"Oh god, really, you did it and Ron watched? Was it exciting?"
"It was exciting beyond belief. I had sort of compromised with Ron. I told him that if we met someone we both liked and both felt comfortable with I might do it. That opened the door and when it happened it was more than just doing it. I found it allowed me to stop being the cool, professional journalist and become a complete slut. God I love effecting the persona of a wanton slut."
"Jesus MaryAnn tell me about it."
MaryAnn loved the story. She told of how she and Ron met the professor from Northwestern in San Diego's restaurant/bar overlooking the airport. While Ron watched she flirted then danced with the professor in the bar. They ended up in the back seat while Ron watched from the front. When she gave the details of the stranger kissing her, fondling, going down on her, then fucking her she could see that Jeri was getting a vicarious thrill out of just listening to it. In fact MaryAnn was sure that her old sorority sister was imagining herself lying there in the back seat getting banged while her husband was just a couple of feet away watching.
"Oh, God, MaryAnn that's hot. Did you have any regrets?"
MaryAnn looked at her and replied, "My only worry was when I got off. It was so loud, I was afraid Ron would be jealous. But neither of us had any regrets, just the opposite. People always claimed that folks who let their spouses do that would never feel the same again. That was true for us but in an ironic way. After that affair we have been closer than before. Ron couldn't keep his hands off me. We fucked more the first week than we did on our honeymoon. .
"One evening he came home, Mandy was gone for an hour and I was getting dinner. He came up behind me, fondled my tits. I loved the attention even though I was busy. Then when he pulled up my dress and started playing with my cunt I wanted it right then. I locked the front door so Mandy wouldn't come barging in on us. He pulled up my dress, slid my panties aside and bent me over the kitchen table. He fucked me right there.
"That same week I gave my complete blow job ever. I had gone down but always stopped just before he got off. This night we were driving back from Orange County. He reached over and felt me up. I liked that. We often screwed in the car just for kicks. I asked him to pull off on the frontage road. It was so romantic. The moon glistened off the ocean. All we had to worry about was the cops might stop us.
"Then I had an inspiration. I pulled his pants and shorts down, and went down on him. He got my blouse open and my bra loose. When he started moving in my mouth he expected me to stop, but I looked at him, smiled and said, 'go ahead darling.' "
"He put one hand on my head urging me on. The other was on my titty, caressing it. He literally fucked my face. When he started moving again, I shoved a finger in his ass. He gave a lunge and let me have it. I learned what a thrill it can be go feel a man thrust his cock in my mouth, then groan, and say, 'I'm cumming.' And if you're interested, I swallowed it, and I have every time since, with Ron and others."
She gave a wicked smile to Jeri, "Does any of that shock you, old friend?"
"Yeah, it does. It also makes me tingle just thinking about it. But what would happen if Fritz and I tried swinging?"
"You'd likely join untold millions of other adult Americans who are willing to do something that is nobody else's business. But that doesn't answer the question. If the wrong people, meaning about everybody, found about it you'd be run out of congress. Remember we almost lost a president solely because he had an affair with another consenting adult."
Jeri had listened to MaryAnn tell the story with obvious passion and in such detail. She even imagining herself in those various situations. Then, she said, "Oh God! I envy you so much. Now I don't think I'll ever be able to do what Fritz has urged me to do, and I'm almost ready to try it.
"I think you'd just have to be even more careful than we do. Your political opponents would love to use it to run you out of office."
When Jeri got home that night she had a note saying Fritz was in Sacramento listening to the party bosses tell him how he was a brilliant young star and how he had captured an otherwise impossible seat in the House.
For her part Jeri was thinking of what might have been. She put on her sexiest nightie, a thin, nearly transparent pink one. She even put on her panties because MaryAnn had told her that she got a special thrill out of having them removed. She posed for herself in them mirror and imagined a room full of people watching. She knew she'd cause a lot of hard-ons.
Then she went to bed. As she lay there her left hand crept over and touched her right breast. She didn't react, so the hand fondled, then pinched her nipple. It stiffened a bit. Then MaryAnn's right hand moved the left hand away.
She smiled at herself at her little game. The left hand was persistent. It moved back. Jeri imagined a man in bed with her. This time she put her hand on the intruder as if to move it away again. But she didn't. She simply put her hand on top of "his" and held it firm. More squeezing, fondling, and gentle pinching and it pulled her nightie down leaving a lovely pair of bare 36 D breasts.
She murmured "mmmmm that's nice." His hand went to her mouth and she wet the fingers. Back to the nipple as she exclaimed, "Oh god, you shouldn't."
It kept on. In her mind her (his?) hand became a mouth and it was hot and wet. The other hand moved down to her leg and rubbed the inside of her thigh gently. Higher and higher it went until it was rubbing her vulva on the outside of her panties.
"Oh god no. Please don't. I'm married."
But her imaginary lover wasn't to be denied. He had the opportunity and he was persistent. She felt a finger push her panty leg aside and bare skin touched bare skin. "Oh my God. ohhh Jesus." She started moving as the finger caressed her wet clit.
She felt a tug on her panties and raised her ass. The panties slipped down and off. Jeri thought to herself. "Oh god I can't turn back now."
She reached in her bedside drawer and took out a eight inch dildo. Soon she felt an eight inch cock rubbing against her. She spread her legs. He slipped the head of it in. She moved against it. Then she felt him on top of her, his 6'2' body covering her. He pushed his cock in. She pushed back.
"Oh my God, you're big." Soon it was buried in her. Then they began moving, her lover on top, pushing. Jeri pushing back hard with each stroke. Faster and faster they went. Her ass hardly touching the bed.
"DARLING FUCK ME PLEASE FUCK ME OHH GOD IT'S SO GOOD. I WANT IT SO MUCH."
Then her body shook all over as it penetrated harder and faster than ever. She made a long loud moan and held it tight as it made those hard, short stokes.
OHH GOD RON, RON, I'M CUMMING FOR YOU.
She later reflected this was one fantasy she wouldn't share with MaryAnn.