tagHumor & SatireSwift Branchbaum Gets Fucked

Swift Branchbaum Gets Fucked


A Further Fictive Adventure of Swift Branchbaum, Efficacious Broadcastman.

An old friend contacted me yesterday. He had figured out that I was the person writing here under the name ILienBagby. He told me that he would reveal my true identity to the world UNLESS I wrote more about a character I had briefly introduced in part 3b of my story, A Political Education. As the people in so many stories here say, "I have no choice"

Swift Branchbaum Gets Fucked

The light on the callboard flashed red. Swift pushed the button that put the call on the air and began to speak. "Hello," he said in his in his most macho voice, "You're on the air, and you're speaking with me, Swift Branchbaum, the Guru of Truth." Swift was proud of his macho voice. He was also proud of that 'Guru of Truth' motto. His listener's ate it up.

"Oh, Oh, I can't believe it. Oh, I am so excited. Swift Branchbaum. I am really talking to you. Oh, this is so exciting."

Yes, his listeners ate it up. This one sounded as if she was having an orgasm.

But he needed to keep things moving. There were only six minutes until he needed to break for his next commercial. "Yes," Swift said (in his macho voice), "You're on the air. What did you want to talk about?"

"Swift," the caller continued, gushing, "I've been trying to get on your program for a year now and, finally, I'm on."

As were so many of his callers, this woman was in a high state of excitement when she finally made it onto his program. Swift liked that, especially when the excited person was a woman. In fact, Swift instructed JohnnyBoy, his call screener, to push calls from those women to the head of the on-line queue whenever they came in.

"I am really on, I'm on, I can not believe it," she repeated.

Swift liked to think what his callers looked like. This woman, he imagined from her voice, had nicely rounded calves, firm, beautifully curved thighs, and blonde pubic hair.

But, duty called. He must move the program along." Yes, you are on," Swift said in his most dulcet tone, "You wanted to talk about the latest sex scandal involving Jenean Forest, the Tennis star. Well, please go ahead, Mary."

Jenean Forest, the most dominant lady tennis player in the world had just been revealed to be a sex addict, bisexual (as well as biracial). The news had been all over television, radio, the internet, and newspapers this week. Jenean had won the Australian, the British, and the U.S. open each of the last four years, every year since she graduated from high school and turned pro. She had missed a grand slam sweep only because she had not won the French Open. But just two days ago, much to the tennis world's horror, it was revealed that not only had Forest been cheating on her husband, but also on her lesbian live-in mistress. And cheating with a string of what was now reported to be at least 16 male and 18 female lovers in the past six months.

"Swift," said Mary, the caller, "I play tennis too, but I am ashamed to even admit that now."

Swift Branchbaum felt a tickle of a tingle along the shaft of his cock. He could see Mary in her tennis shorts, her bloomers visible below her short skirt. He could imagine her long legs, tanned and shiny with sweat as she ran up and down a sunny Florida tennis court.

The callboard display provided Swift with the name of the caller he was speaking with and the subject she wished to discuss. Unfortunately, it was not capable of giving him what he truly wanted, an idea of what she looked like. He had to imagine that. So Mary, he imagined, had rounded 34BB boobs (not much bigger than his) but a svelte figure from her exercise on the tennis court.

"Swift, Mr. Branchbaum, sir, you are truly the leader of our Coffee Brigade's efforts to make our country a great country again. The current scandal is certainly an outgrowth of the moral weakness that has beset this nation since the last election.

This time Swift felt a solid twitch flutter along his cock. Until that moment, his cock had been furled, warm and cuddly in the recesses of his silk boxer shorts. Swift Branchbaum treasured those calls that got his cock unfurled and twitching, It was those times when he felt his 'little buddy' give that signal that it was coming alive, that he knew he would be giving his listeners good broadcast. "Mary," he said to her in his low and caring tone of voice, "Maybe you should switch from tennis to golf. Golfers haven't been dominated by foreigners like tennis has. Although it was invented by the British, at least the British speak our language and not Russian or some other foreign language." Golf was Swift's game. Just two weeks ago he had made par three holes in a row at Pebble Beach, a feat that confirmed to him his own athletic prowess.

"Well, Swift," Mary replied, "I don't know why I never thought of that before. You are just so clever. I am going to quit my tennis club, fire my Croation tennis instructor and join a golf club."

She said Croation instructor. Swift wondered whether the Croation was making a play at Mary "Mary, it is people like you, citizens of this great country who care, who care about our society and our American Conservative principles and what is happening that make this radio program powerful. I am not the leader. It is you and those like you who are the true leaders." Branchbaum didn't know exactly what he had meant by what he had said. But he knew that his listeners, Mary especially, would react in a positive manner as his tone remained dulcet, humble, sincere, yet manly.

Swift Branchbaum's cock was now almost alive. He could feel a surge of blood flow that, if it didn't mean a full fledged hardon, at least meant a three-quarter-hard prick. Surely, Mary would have rebuffed any sexual overtures from a Croation.

"Oh, you say it so beautifully, Swift. Today, when I dropped my twins off at school, they're in the second grade, I thought they should have the school pipe your broadcast into the classrooms so that the young people would have a chance to get your wisdom instead of whatever left wing nonsense their hippy teachers give them."

Two kids. Must be in her late twenties or early thirties, thought Swift. Remembering the rounded calves and curved thighs he had surmised for her earlier, he guessed she must really hit the treadmill hard to keep her body firm after two kids. He could almost smell the slight musky odor her cunt would emit as she pounded the treadmill in a tight fitting leotard, or better, in skimpy shorts and a sweaty tee shirt.

Swift was now able to feel that the slight surge of blood that had managed to work its way to the head of his circumcised cock. Swift had circumcised his penis twelve years ago at the suggestion of his first wife when she was suffering from his erectile dysfunction. He had since divorced that wife, figuring the dysfunction was her fault. He had been married three other times, each time divorcing the new wife after suffering erectile dysfunction and figuring out that it was the wives' fault, the sexual-disfunction causing bitches. It couldn't have been his fault, he was Swift Branchbaum!

But, back to the phone conversation.

Swift hurried to agree with his caller, Mary, " Mary," he said, "If our schools hadn't been so intent on indoctrinating our youngsters with the idea that morals are relative and unimportant, then people like thong wearing, Jenean Forrest would have never been allowed to become roll models." Swift Branchbaum was pretty sure that Jenean didn't shave her pussy. He had enlarged and studied one of her pictures and he was pretty sure he had seen some curly hairs tucked in at the elastic.

"Swift, you are so smart! I always learn so much when I listen to your program."

Another twitch of his prick. Swift Branchbaum smiled.

"Swift," Mary lowered her voice. She spoke in an almost whisper, "Swift, It's those tight panties the tennis players wear. They don't leave anything to the imagination. In the old days, they wore much less revealing panties, bloomers really. But now...Swift, it's indecent, really. Those short skirts and sports jerseys. " Mary's voice was even lower, "They just flaunt it all."

Swift could feel it. He HAD A HARDON!

"It's that element. You know, THOSE people," Mary said. Her voice was almost a whisper as if she was relaying a secret just between her and Swift. "If you look close, you can see whether or not they have shaved." Mary shuddered. "Next they will be wearing thongs for panties or, oh and I dread the day, no panties at all."

He had a real, honest to goodness erection now. Mary was a lady after his own heart. Swift signaled to his control room. "Mary, I have to break now for a commercial. This is still a capitalistic country, but please stay on the line. The people in the control room will get your address so we can mail you some items from our Swift Branchbaum gift store."

"OH, thank you, thank you so much," Mary said and then she added, she almost forgot, "Copy you to a T." How could she almost have forgotten the trademark expression nearly all callers to his program uttered that they 'copied him to a T.'

The control room gave him a thumbs up. They had her address. Swift Branchbaum went to commercial. He had a hardon!


While the commercial and break for news happened, Swift rushed to his private bathroom. He hurried into his bathroom stall and dropped his pants. He held his erect prick in his hand. He tried to imagine Mary. He imagined her on a dining room table. Yes, that was it, a table. She was on her hands and knees, her back to him. Her hands were stretched out holding her torso slightly higher than her ass. She was looking back over her left shoulder, looking at him. Of course, she was naked except for a cute little baseball cap perched atop her dark blond hair. The rounded globes of her ass were shiny but had a slight pinkish tint. Her tits were hanging down, just visible as she turned her body slightly. Swift pulled on the shaft of his tumescent prick. But, then, suddenly the scene he was watching was interrupted by the appearance of Mary's Croation tennis instructor and the instructor was pushing his dick into Mary's ass. Swift Branchbaum's erection went down.


Mary Chambers was on the bed in her elegant home. She was talking on the phone. "Stephan, I will be over to your private locker room in 10 minutes. I have just finished being on the Swift Branchbaum program and my Clit is tingling." Mary had been trying to call Stephan, her Croation tennis instructor for fifteen minutes now, but her phone had been so busy as people kept on calling her to congratulate her for being on Swift's show. She didn't have much time before she had to leave to pick up the kids from school and she did need to get some of that horniness Swift had triggered taken care of first.


Swift Branchbaum was in his office at his home. On the desk, to his left was a folder containing a brief biography of Mary Chambers that had been gleaned it from the internet. On the middle of the desk was an open folder containing several pictures of Mary Chambers. The right side of the desk had a large date book filled with data about his travel schedule. His private private detective had gathered the Mary Chambers information. Swift trusted his detective to keep things private (the private detective could be VERY discreet when needed---to this date, no information about what had gone on during Swift's weekend in the Dominican Republic had even been hinted at in even the sleaziest tabloid). The pictures, ditto, had been gathered by the private detective. Swift's itinerary had been gathered by Johnny Boy, Swift's call screener and general factotum. Johnny Boy had also contacted Mary for Swift, sending her a ticket to Mr. Branchbaum's lecture in her home town and an invitation (which she had quickly accepted) to a luncheon meeting at the hotel Swift was staying at. Branch was going to fuck Mary Chambers. There wouldn't be any erectile dysfunction! He had supplied himself with Viagra and herbal supplements.

And...he had a plan.


"Oh yes...Keep it going. YES! Keep that beautiful rod of yours plowing." Mary Chambers was in Stephan Korojek's office. Stephan was her tennis instructor (and pussy pleaser). And right now he was doing his best to please her. She paid well for the tennis lessons and the pussy pleasing was an extra benefit. He had a decent sized tool, Mary estimated it to be five, maybe six inches long, and he kept his stroke steady and strong as he pushed it in and pulled it out of her sopping pussy. He kept his finger pushing in a circular motion against her clit (just like she had showed him to) while he fucked her. She was leaning back against his desk. She was holding his ass with both her hands and controlling the pace of his thrusts. "That's it....yeah, you fuckin' Croation, keep it going. Yeah, hard.Harder! And keep that finger on my clit." She had to tell him everything. She guessed they didn't teach them how to fuck in tennis school. "I was talking to Swift Branchbaum, and he suggested that maybe I take golf lessons."

Stephan began to fuck harder. He tweaked her nipple with his free hand. "You realize, I will have to charge you for a tennis lesson today"

"Don't sweat it, lover boy. You know I'm good for it. Just keep on plowing." Mary's breathing was ragged, her chest heaving. She was close to cumming. "Double for the lesson if I cum"

Stephan took his hand from her tit and pressed against her chest with his chest. He took his free hand and brought it to her ass. He stuck two fingers into her ass. He wanted that double lesson fee. Two fingers in her ass. His prick in her cunt. His chest teasing her tit. His tongue in her ear (she really liked that): Stephan was working hard.

"Harder," Mary commanded.

Stephan complied. This was harder than being in a five set match with a fellow pro. He was sweating, as was Mary. "Who you say you was talking to?" he asked.

"Swift Branchbaum," Mary blurted out. "Don't you know Swift Branchbaum?"

"I think I hear the name,: Sephan said.

"DON'T stop," she warned Stephan. "I'm not paying for conversation. Fuck me,"

Stephan quickly resumed the piston action of his cock in her cunt.

"That's better," she said.

Careful to continue his pummeling of her cunt and his rubbing against her clit, Stephan, nevertheless, asked, "Who you say is this Branch man?"

"Swift Branchbaum......Yeh, yes, yeah! Oh that feels good." Stephan's prick was deep in her at this moment and somehow had found her G spot. "Yes, yes, yes," she said. "Keep it up. Swift is an announcer, a radio talk show host, a leader of the Coffee Brigades around this country, and the protector of the whole movement."

Stephan pressed a little harder against her clit. He was afraid he was going to cum before she did and Mary did not like that, Mary Chambers definitely did not like that.

"Fuck me harder," Mary spoke slowly; she pronounced each word carefully. "Harder." Oh, there it was. Her pussy lips began quivering. Her clit began tingling. Her cunt muscles closed tight against Stephan's shaft.

She came!

"Was good for you?" Stephan asked as he removed his still hard prick from her still quivering cunt. He had not come. Stephan had at least three more tennis lessons this afternoon and needed to keep his strength up. A few of the ladies at this tennis club were pretty much close to being as demanding as was Mary Chambers..

"Yeah, it was good for me," she said. She had pulled up her panties and was writing in her check book. "Double lesson fee. Tell me, Stephan, why were you interested in who Swift Branchbaum was?"

"You say he wants you buy a golf club membership."

"Don't sweat it big boy," Mary said. She reached for his cock. "As long as do me like you did today, I'll stick to tennis." She was curious. You ever play with Jenean Forest?"

"How you mean,play?"

"I meant play, like with a net between you and her. But the other play too."

Stephan replied, "I play tennis with Jenean Forest. Doubles a few times. On court with net." Stephen avoided talking about sex with other people with his sex partners. But he had fucked Jenean Forest. Who hadn't? It had been a good experience. Better, if you thought about it, than with one of these country club tennis students.

Just for old times sake, Mary Chambers took a quick peek at Stephan's cock before he hid it away in his tennis shorts. "Swift Branchbaum thinks Jenean is a slut." She straightened out her skirt, buttoned her shirt and combed her hair. "You just keep that sweet six inches of yours hard and you won't have to worry about nothing." Mary waved goodbye and was off to get the twins at school.


Swift Branchbaum lay under the blanket on his bed in his suite at the Excelsior Hotel. He had ditched the cigar he had been smoking and aired out the room. All was ready. It had been three weeks since he had talked with Mary Chamber on the air, and a week since she had e-mailed accepting his invitation to lunch. She was due at the hotel in a few minutes. It was then that Swift would implement his plan.

The plan was a variation of the plan he had used several times before. The last two times it hadn't really had great results but Swift wasn't too good at original ideas.

The plan was, at its essence, simple. Johnny Boy had contacted Mary. He had told her that Swift would meet her for lunch at the hotel's dining room, but that she should check at the hotel's front desk if he wasn't there to meet her. The plan was that when she got to the front desk she would get a note from the concierge asking her to go up to his penthouse suite. The note would explain that Swift was very tired because of his broadcast, speech, and golf schedule and had been ordered by his doctor to rest. This would serve three purposes according to the plan: (1) it would get Mary into his suite, (2) it would put her in a motherly, caring mood to soothe him, and (3) be a perfect excuse to have him in the bed in his room and she close to the bed.

Swift had taken his Viagra, ingested a wide array of herbal supplements and looked at his secret stash of porn pictures. He was prepared.


Mary was alone in the elevator to the penthouse floor and Swift Branchbaum's suite. Swift was going to fuck her, she knew. Why else did a star like he was invite a girl up to his room?

She reached down, pulled up her skirt, and pulled off her panties.

Mary needed to be ready for Swift Branchbaum. He buried presidents, ate up senators, destroyed journalist. He was a tough, give-no-quarter fighter. Mary Chambers knew that Swift would be as fearless in bed, a tiger rampant between the sheets, a man's man, a fucker's fucker.

Mary had to stop thinking about Swift, her cunt was coated with her love juice. She worried that it would drip down her legs.

She steeled herself and knocked on the door to his suite. She heard his manly voice from within, "Come in."

Mary took a very deep breath, pursed her lips, and opened the door.

There he was. And he was smiling at her. Swift Branchbaum. Swift Branchbaum himself. And he was already in bed. Mary turned and shut the door behind her. She advanced towards his bed. This was not the time for coyness. Mary lifted her skirt. "Swift," she said, "Look. I am not wearing panties.

She moved another step closer to Swift who was now sitting up in the bed.


She must be Mary Chambers, Swift thought. The front desk had called to say that she was on her way up. And she was moving towards him. Swift was going to try to stop her advance, but before he could get his hands out from under the blanket (where he had been busy pleasuring himself), she was right there. And the next thing Swift knew, she was sitting on his bed and was kicking off her shoes.

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