Anthea s baby 1
- 2 years ago
- 414
- 0
The CandidateChapter 3 free porn video
The morning of the final debate, Donna woke up with a hangover. It was something she was becoming accustomed to. Her new campaign manager, DeeDee, had very limited ideas about campaigning. Actually she had only one idea--drunken orgies in Donna's ritzy home, all comers welcome. So that's how she had spent the past three days and nights.
Not that she was complaining--she'd performed every sex act imaginable in that time, her favorites several times over. She was being the best slut she knew how to be and reveling in the fact.
She gazed down with bleary eyes at the buxom red-head that had passed out between her thighs last night and still lay there, nuzzling against her pussy. What DeeDee might lack in intelligence, she certainly made up for in style. She was still half-wearing the transparent gold dress from last night and her make-up was smeared all over Donna's nether reasons.
It had been quite a week. One thing was sure--the Travers' campaign had never gotten this much publicity before. The images of her coming-out party at the bar had run on all the local stations that night and been on the front page of The Globe and The Herald the next day. By the next evening, she had become a national news story with reporters flocking to her from all over the country and even overseas.
It had been a relatively dull election year, with every national candidate coached, primped, and trained to shy away from anything that smelled even slightly of controversy. Thus, when Donna's unique new campaigning style got their attention, the media descended like a plague of locusts.
Donna welcomed them with open arms. She'd always gotten a bit of a rush when the spotlight was on her, but now it felt much more intense--it made her giddy. Everyone wanted a piece of her. Some came anxious to receive her offer of sexual favors for registered voters; Others came for the free booze and the drugs that were a arriving with more and more frequency; Still others just came to watch in fascinated titillation.
And then there were those that came to protest. People from dozens of different groups across the political spectrum lined up in front of her house on a regular basis. They brought signs and yelled out things about Donna. Some of it Donna didn't mind at all; She found that she enjoyed being called a slut-whore-bimbo-hussy-tart. After all, pleasing her pussy had become her primary purpose and she took pride in how well she was pulling it off.
But the protesters also said mean and hurtful things as well. How did they know who was going to hell, anyway? She wouldn't be surprised if God Himself wanted a piece of her. When she pointed out this possibility, the minister who led one group fell to his knees and started pleading with Heaven to strike her down. Donna wished the man would just let her blow him--he obviously needed it badly.
Donna really didn't understand why some people were so upset. Oh sure, she knew that what she was doing wasn't exactly in keeping with the societal norm for someone of her status, but it was so much fun and felt so damned good that anyone objecting to it struck her as funny. When feminist leaders accused her of letting herself be exploited or clergymen condemned her for deviance, Donna's inevitable response was an uncontrollable fit of the giggles followed by another crashing wave of arousal.
More incensed than the feminists or the moralists were the leaders of her party. The Democrats had sent a delegation to demand an explanation of her behavior and ask her to withdraw from the race in favor of another candidate. The delegation consisted of two congressmen who had been the among the first to encourage her to run for senate and the Massachusetts Secretary of State Connie Espinoza.
They had insisted on meeting privately in Donna's home office, away from the circus of press and perverts that most of Donna's home had become. Donna immediately saw that she could work this to her advantage. The candidate had become very adept in the past few days of recognizing potential targets for seduction. Connie might act uptight and irate, but Donna was aware of the looks she kept steeling of her body.
Donna had let the secretary of state work herself into such an indignant frenzy that she could hardly speak, then she pounced on her. The embarrassed woman made half-hearted protests but did nothing to stop the over-sexed blonde woman from kissing her, fondling her, and eventually stripping her of her pants and gleefully eating her out. By that time she was moaning and begging her to continue.
As predicted, the congressmen didn't object. Donna knew from the start that they hadn't joined the delegation out of any sense of moral outrage. They had just wanted an excuse to come see her. And if Donna had learned anything in the past few days, it was that boys like to watch. They were both rock hard and ready for her by the time she left Connie as a quivering mass of half naked flesh.
Donna stretched and smiled at the memory. This was so much fun! The hangover was already passing, replaced as always with an intense feeling of wellbeing.
She saw that it was 1:30--five and a half hours until she debated Wilson. Better pick out a dress and see if she could get in a quicky or six before then.
She sat up and noticed how sticky she was. Jism again? Well, here and there, but mostly it was lime jello. Donna giggled, remembering. The hot tub would never be the same again, but it was worth it.
She gave DeeDee's head a playful squeeze with her thighs and the red-head instinctively started lapping, eventually coming fully awake and smiling up at Donna with her big, vacant green eyes.
"Wash me?" asked the blonde after enjoying her new campaign manager's ministrations. DeeDee cheerfully agreed and they scampered gleefully to the shower, their naked breasts bouncing. Several of the partiers who were sprawled about Donna's home groaned at the girls giggling, not having recovered as well from the night's festivities. Thank God for DeeDee, thought Donna. She seemed to be the only one capable of keeping up with her. It was like the two were made to party.
Tom also seemed to easily recover from the nightly debauchery, although truth be told he was not interested in partying himself as much as he was in egging on Donna. Donna didn't need any encouragement to attempt satiating her lust with every available partner but she wasn't quite so keen on participating in all the booze and drugs that now seemed to flow through her home on a nightly basis. It seemed, however, that Tom delighted in getting her completely smashed. And Donna just couldn't say no to him. Something about him was just so... compelling.
Tom spent all of his time at Donna's house now, having claimed one of the guest rooms and a space in the garage for his van. He was in the kitchen reading the paper when the two giggling women flounced downstairs clad in nothing but big fluffy towels.
The headline of the globe read:
TRAVERS PLUMMETS IN POLLSCandidate's Support Dissipates as Hedonism Escalates
"Oh poop!" Donna pouted. "Why is the press being so mean to me, Tom? I must have sucked off half a dozen reporters last night alone! And where are they taking these polls? Almost everyone I've fucked in the past week says they're going to vote for me. You'd think that was a representative sample!"
"Well, Donna," explained Tom, "the press has to have their own little bias. They like to maintain the status quo--it makes their job a lot easier. By embracing sluthood, you're being a revolutionary, forcing a paradigm shift as it were. Some of the more conservative elements are bound to be resistant. But keep on doing what you're doing and I know you can win them over!"
Donna giggled. That made sense she supposed. And not all of the papers were being mean. The Weekly World News had done a separate feature on her boobies alone, although she didn't know were they got the idea that her breasts had started to grow after having sex with aliens. Of course, she had been stoned when she did the interview.
"So Tommy-tom-tom," said Donna, working a hand up his thigh, "Up for a little game of hide the sausage?"
Tom put down his paper and looked at her pointedly.
"Oh Donna, you can't have sex before your debate with Wilson. That would be entirely to distracting! No, I'm afraid I must insist that you keep your knees together until after the debate."
"But..." Donna objected, her heart racing in panic, "But that's not until tonight! I can't go that long without fucking! I just can't!"
"You can and you will," insisted Tom, "Come now, Donna, you're a grown woman with a distinguished public career. Surely you have enough self-restraint to put off your own needs for a few hours. Now go up stairs and pick out a nice sexy dress for the cameras tonight."
He turned her towards the stairway by her bare shoulders and then swatted her ass to send her on her way. He sent DeeDee to help her.
"But just with close and make up," he enjoined, "Keep your mouth and fingers to yourself."
Donna trudged upstairs. She couldn't go that long. But disobeying Tom felt so wrong. Donna heard him chuckling as she went upstairs. He could be so mean sometimes. She didn't know why she was so devoted to him.
The two women decided that red was the color to go with. It looked good on television and it looked great on Donna. After several tries, they decided on a tiny, skin-tight lycra microdress. Donna was happy to see that her nipples were plainly visible through the tight fabric.
To the dress, they added thigh-high white stockings and little red pumps with five-inch heals. DeeDee blew and brushed her hair to a massive mane, meticulously overdid her makeup to match her dress, and added some big red plastic hoops to her ears. The master work complete, Donna applauded DeeDee and the red-head made mock curtsies and bows.
God she looked cute. Just a quicky--Tom would never know.
But before Donna could even finish her proposition, there was a disapproving noise at the door and Tom was waving a finger in reprimand. Donna blushed, bit her lip, and looked down. Damn.
At Tom's insistence, Donna went down to the living room to practice her closing statement. Thus, she got a good view of her bodyguard methodically removing the party guests who hadn't made it out on their own yet. The company that had provided her with Jeff had proven insufficient for her current needs, what with the zoo that her home had become and the rabid protesters. Luckily, one of the local strip clubs had recently closed down and Donna was able to snatch up several of the unemployed bouncers.
They were big, burly men who, at Donna's request, dressed uniformly in tight black T-shirts, khakis, and boots. Watching them man-handle her over-staying guests out of her home was making her incredibly hot. She'd be crazy with lust by the debate. What was Tom thinking?
"Now don't be nervous, Donna" said Tom as they rode in a rented limo to the debate.
"I'm not nervous, silly," giggled the candidate, "I'm good at this! And Wilson's a big old wanker. I'm going to look so good on TV in this dress that everybody in the state is going to be coming in their pants!"
"I don't know, Donna. You look great, but you seem a bit nervous," Tom insisted.
Donna bit her lip. It felt bad to contradict Tom but she knew she wasn't nervous.
"What I am," she said in a low voice, "Is randy. Do you think you or DeeDee could..."
The blonde woman pulled up the tight skirt of her tiny dress to reveal her swollen, neglected pussy. DeeDee perked up expectantly but Tom slapped the blonde woman's hand and pulled her skirt down perfunctorily.
"There's plenty of time for that after the debate," he chided.
"But it's been hours," Donna whined. "I'm so horny I could die!"
"You're just nervous," insisted Tom. "Here, take this."
He shook out a little pill from a container in his pocket and handed it to her. Donna stared at it.
"What is it?" she asked, hesitant. Tom had been giving her various little pills all weekend, most of which had knocked her for a loop.
"Just a little something to calm you down. Here, wash it down with this."
He poured her a glass of champagne. She sighed in resignation and took both.
The debate took place in the studios of WBUR, the local NPR station, with news analyst Bruce Gellerman moderating. There was a small audience of about 200 people--the free tickets had been distributed some weeks before, but had changed hands several times on the streets since then, the current scalper price being close to $80. Donna looked out at the crowd, all of them so anxious to see her, all of them wanting to fuck her. God, she hoped this was over quick.
The first thing she did was lower the podium. She wanted to lean forward to the mike and make sure everyone got a good view of her marvelous cleavage. She wanted everyone ready by the time the debate was over. No foreplay tonight.
Wilson arrived. The pudgy, gray-haired, gray-faced man was as sweaty and repulsive as ever. Donna wanted to rip his close off and take him right their on the stage. He would to--she could see that he was already sporting a woody for her. But she knew that they would stop her before she could get any relief. And Tom had said she had to wait until the debate was over.
And then the spotlights of the studio started to sparkle and turn a rosy pink. The whole world seemed to be glowing pink. A wave of giddiness rushed through the candidate and then her head started to slowly float away from her shoulders, lolling from one side to another. Donna distantly realized that Tom's pill had taken effect. Well she certainly wasn't nervous now! She giggled softly to herself.
The format was typical--Gellerman would ask a series of questions and each candidate would have ninety seconds to address it. The news analyst took his seat. Mercy he was gorgeous.
"Hi cutie!" Donna addressed the moderator and licked her lips hungrily.
"Uh, Hi..." he said, blinking, swallowing and shifting in his seat. Oh yeah, he wanted her. Donna started to rub her crotch, her hand hidden behind the podium.
Gellerman introduced the two candidates. He described Donna's career as a lawyer, her accomplishments when her late husband was mayor, and her extensive public activism since, but he completely neglected her admittedly brief but absolutely spectacular career as slut and party queen. Mrs. Travers was upset. Surely he knew.
The radio man read the first question: "What role, if any, should the federal government play in public education?"
"The federal government needs to minimize its involvement in our children's schools," responded Senator Wilson. "Local school boards need to have autonomy. That way parents can have the most control over what their children are taught and the schools will reflect the values of the local community and not the whims of some federal official. I support legislation that would dissolve the office of the Secretary of Education and restore control to parents. I think the example of former Surgeon General Jocelyn Elders shows the danger of Washington bureaucrats being out of touch with American values. If Dr. Elders had her way, they'd be teaching masturbation in the schools right now. It shouldn't be the role of the federal government to teach our children about sex."
Donna snorted and giggled, knowing that Wilson could see her stroking herself. She responded.
"Well somebody's got to, 'cause if the kids today are like the kids I grew up with, they don't know fuck about fucking! You should have seen my date for the junior prom--he didn't know what the fuck he was doing. He spent all that money on me and then completely botched it up once he got me in the back of the limo. I slept with him a dozen times during high school and never came even once! I had to sneak my mom's vibrator after every date! And Jimmy had the nerve to say it was my fault, since his old girlfriend always used to come. But I just know she was faking it. Hey Jimmy! How you like me now?"
Donna wiggled her breasts at the camera and made an exaggerated kiss at the camera, then giggled.
The moderator shifted in his seat. Oh yeah--he wanted her bad. They all did. So many gorgeous, fuckable people in the audience. How much longer did she have to wait?
Aeryn
- 30.12.2022
- 17
- 0
