Political Payback

"Oh God!" she said.

We shed clothes down to panties and my skivvies. My cock stuck out like a club. Her fingers slipped between us, closed around the shaft and gently stroked, as my own fingers slid through the thicket of her silky pubic hair, into the juicy wetness of her slit.

"Yessssss," she hissed, and we tumbled onto the bed in embrace, her hand working my cockshaft as my fore and middle fingers skewered her hot, juicy cunt and my thumb gently diddled her swollen clit.

"I've wanted this," she whispered. "Ever since . . . you know . . ."

I knew.

"Don't talk about it . . ."

"I won't . . ."

"He's . . . how do I say it . . . Oh! God you're doing that well!"

"Your pussy?" We were primal now, man and woman now, nothing barred.

"Yes."

"He's good?"

"Oh yessss. . ." She quivered. "Oh that's good. . ."

"Hung . . .?"

"Yes!" she whispered, thrust her hips, and gasped. "Oh! Don't stop!"

I fingered deep, found her G spot, made her moan, wondering the while how many other men had touched her here. The question kindled fires in my mind.

"You've had others?" I asked.

"Yes . . .Don't talk . . ." Her fingers closed around my cock.

She thrust her pelvis up at my probing fingers. Her breath grew ragged.

"Yes, like that," she whispered. The palm of her hand swirled softly over the swollen head of my eager cock. Her thighs spread wide, her feverish pussy oozed its hot sweet juice. I moved between her legs, and my cockhead slid along the tiny shaft of her slippery, swollen clit.

She groaned. "Oh God! Put it in me!"

It wasn't a plea. It was a command. She was used to giving commands. But I teased her--- grasped my cockshaft with my fingers and ran the head up and down between her glistening cunt lips. This was no ordinary woman. This was a modern day Medea. The power she wielded fueled my lust. She shuddered.

"Give it to me!"

"Give you what?"

"Your cock. Give me your cock . . . "

"Why?"

"To fuck me!"

Yes! That's what I wanted to hear! "Again?"

"OH JESUS! FUCK ME!"

My cock slid into the warm wet swamp of her cunt and swam--- opening her, spreading her hot eager walls, filling her with my muscular male member, and then holding there, dead still, deep inside her, as my prick swelled and hardened even more. She closed her eyes in ecstasy, groaned; her fingernails raked my back; and like a cat awakening from a sleep, she slowly heaved her cock-filled cunt up to pull me deeper.

We held it there a moment, looking deep into each other's eyes, wondering, each a mystery to the other--- but one shadowy aspect of the mystery clear to me now.

"I'm not your first, am I?

"No."

"Did he know?"

"I told him."

So there it was: the secret of their togetherness. And then, ever so slowly, I withdrew, until just the head of my cock remained inside her. She blinked, closed her eyes then opened them, narrowed them, and grimaced in what seemed like genuine pain.

"More," she husked. "You're doing what he does . . ."

"Does with you?"

"Yesssss!"

"Does with others?"

"Ooooooh yes!"

I thrust back, deep inside her, so my cockhead was nudging her cervix's lips. She began to whimper. "Like that . . . yes . . . oh yessssss . . ."

"Fuck me," I whispered. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me . . . like you fuck him."

I was in a contest with her husband--- and the thought of him fired her lust the more fiercely.

"Yes, yes, yes," she groaned, her hips heaving, grinding; her hot, wet cunt squshed around my prick as it rammed in and out of her. Our bellies slapped. My balls flopped against her ass. Sweat ran in rivulets from our fevered bodies. I imagined her doing this with him.

And suddenly we both stiffened. I grunted. My prick jerked, my balls leaped, as if prodded by a cattle poke. Her cunt clamped around me like a vise. My prick pulsed, pulsed again. And my hot semen spurted, squirted . . . gushed up into her depths.

"Oh God!" she cried, biting her hand as orgasm's flames roared up over her, and she convulsed as if on the edge of death, screaming, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Yes! Oooooh yes!!" she cried over and over again--- until her voice faded into that post-orgasmic bliss of long deep breaths and whimpering sighs.

We lay silent a while, savoring that bliss, and then she raised herself on one elbow and smiled at me. "It's a little late to be asking this," she said, "but . . ."

"Yes?"

She hesitated. "I think you know that when we started this, it was payback . . ."

"I figured," I replied.

"I was hoping you were a Republican. It would have been so much more vindictive . . ."

"Sorry to disappoint you," I said. "I told you I'm a fan."

She giggled then, and snuggled closer. "I'm glad."

I nuzzled her nipples. "I like your tits," I said.

"I like your cock. . ." She giggled again. I felt it growing hard.

Just then, the cell phone in her purse went off. She frowned, rolled over, fetched it and turned it on.

"Hi!" she said in a sudden, cheery change of character. I feigned disinterest yet couldn't help but eavesdrop. "I'm at the hotel," she said "Having dinner. . ." she said. "No, room service . . . I'd be noticed in the dining room . . . What? You called my room and I wasn't there? . . . No, I'm in someone else's room . . ."

"Yes, a man . . . don't worry: he's a Democrat." She chuckled, paused. "Oh? Well, maybe I'll tell you when I get home . . . Would you like that? Would you like to know?"

She smiled at me; her eyelids lowered smokily as her fingers found and caressed her pussy mound. She watched me stroking my hardening cock, licked her lips and turned back to the phone. "Right now? We're about to have dessert. . ."

She gave me a Democratic Party National Committee pin as she was leaving. I have it pinned to her panties, hanging in a corner cabinet in my den. I take them down every now and then, when I see her picture in the papers, and I hold them to my face, and breathe deeply of her hot erotic essence--- privy to her secret. And I wonder, as I stroke, what she has told him about me, her good Democratic dinner mate, besides the fact I voted for him for a second term.