The Betrayal of the Senator's Wife

[julia_in_nj2007]

Washington DC has always been a tough place. And while most associate the city of the eternal battle between Democrats and Republicans, insiders new the true battles were within parties.

Jennifer Adams knew that quite well. Her husband, Matthew, 55, was one of the last Republicans from the Northeast. He (and she) were blue-bloods. And it was a scandal when their relationship was revealed - her, an Ivy League educated staffer 20 years his younger. There was no impropriety. But it still made for great gossip.

As did the gossip about Matthew's standing. He had been critical about the right turn his party had made. He was a proud moderate. He had even had a position of leadership, chairing a prominent committee. But his words lingered. And it created a rivalry with his colleague, Mississippi Senator Chet Taylor.

Chet was a little older than her husband. Polished. Nary one of his greeting hairs out of place. His shirts starched. His skin red tanned. Tall. He was textbook Washington - and southern to the core, being an Ole Miss graduate. His wife, Tricia, was somehow even more fearsome, despite "only" having an undergraduate degree and portraying the dutiful housewife/charity organizer. But she was ruthless in her social skills, using them tonfudther her husband's career and her standing in Washington life.

And Chet had made no bones. He wanted Matthew gone from office. Bad for the party. Bad fornhis place. The rivalry was fierce behind the scenes. And Chet clearly had the upper hand. After all, the Blue Tide of northern states made Matthew the most endangered of species.

Tricia, too, smelled blood. Jennifer was holding court at a D.C. function. Tricia just smiles and nodded along. Finally, she made her move. Jennifer was by the punch bowl. Tricia approached.

"You had better watch that confident tone of yours. Your husband is on thin ice. You will be, too. You'd better think long and hard about how you want your life in Washington to go." She then turned around, a phony Amalie to embrace another wife of the powerful.

Those words lingered. And Jennifer steers over them. Part of the attraction to D.C. Was it's power. And a large part of her attraction to her husband was his power. She was his partner. But she knew deep down inside she preferred when she served his power.

And now he has almost none.

Jennifer called Chet's scheduler - an old friend she had lunch with many times soon after - and asked for a meeting with the Senator. Alone. It was curious but not unusual. And it was on the docket for Wednesday at 3.

 

[saedo]

Chet grinned one of his pristine white smiles across the desk at his visitor. The slight crinkle of the skin near his eyes and the recipient with a sense of genuine warmth and affection.

It wasn't entirely fake this time, either. But that had far less to do with the who than the what. The woman across from him filled out her suit in a way that bespoke luscious curves on a lithe frame. Already he was imagining it absent the cloth overlay.

Cher Taylor's fondness for the female form was one of those not-so-secret secrets around Washington, but such indiscretions did not make for great scandal these days. Most of his colleagues -- including a fair number of the women -- were on second or third spouses themselves and you could scarcely swing a dead cat without hitting someone who'd strayed from their vows. In a town drenched in sex, it just did not make for good copy these days.

Still, he wasn't entirely immune to shifting social mores. He'd recently mentally walled off his staff from consideration. Granted, he still had his knob polished by the occasional intern. Just not his interns.

It especially helped that his wife Tricia was on board. Unlike his first marriage, they had based their relationship not purely on emotional sentiment, but also blunt pragmatism. Tricia had known about her husband's outsized libido from the beginning and recognized that keeping it serviced regularly was an inextricable component of his personality. Since that personality not only appealed to her on a genuine emotional level but also made possible the life of power and privilege his political office entailed, Tricia wasn't about to destroy a good thing over such a minor flaw. Rather, she privately tolerated -- and occasionally actively encouraged -- his dalliances since sharing her husband's load -- an obscene pun that still made her snicker -- was ultimately preferable to the alternatives. Besides, neither of them had any doubt where his primary focus lay. Chet might often be influenced by the big organ between his thighs, but the one that thudded in his chest belonged to her and her alone.

While his eyes drank in the delectable package of what sat before him, Chet's other impressive organ -- his political mind -- chewed over the who. Jennifer Adams was the wife of that pissant Matthew, the sorry excuse for a senator from the northeast. The man's willingness to kowtow to any change in the political winds made him an unprincipled milquetoast in Chet's eyes, so they'd never gotten along in private despite political expedience sometimes requiring public camaraderie. Chet personally looked forward to the day when he Matt was finally driven out of Washington.

So why was his lovely younger wife in his office? He'd met her at half a dozen parties and functions, but he could not recall ever having spoken to her for more than half a minute. Tricia hadn't mentioned her as either a rival or friend, so she was likely as politically unimpressive as her husband. Why was she here?

"Mrs. Adams, so good to see you, my dear," Chet drawled pleasantly. "What ever brings you by my humble office?" The latter was complete fiction. Chet's office was the third largest and he felt it had better natural light during the afternoon than the other two. Still, being a humble Southern boy was such a part of his persona that he slipped it on effortlessly.

 

[julia_in_nj2007]

Jennifer felt a major pit in her stomach. Since his wife's remarks, she has just weighed over the meaning of power and her relationship to it. As the educated wife of a Senator, she certainly held power. But she realized she was not attracted to holding it.

She was driven by the need of having to serve some else's power.

She stood in the office of a man whose name her husband had cursed thousands of times. That Mississippi snake. That phony. And here she was, thanking him for his time.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Senator Taylor," she said. "I know my request must have taken you by surprise."

She gulped. Her hands were before her, cupped, like a schoolgirl before the headmaster.

"I wanted to discuss the... relationship... you have with Matthew. I know you are trying to cut his throat."

She held her hand up before he could deny the charges.

"I came to tell you that I know you will destroy him. And I came today to see what I had to do to stay on your good side when you do and have your mercy... Senator Taylor... Sir."

 

[saedo]

Chet mulled over her words. He'd heard this Jennifer had some fancy education, so perhaps she did have sense enough to see the storm front on the horizon. Certainly moreso than her yellow-belly husband.

"Alright, Mrs. Adams," he said, lowering his smile from gentle grin to alligator smile. "I won't beat around the bush with you, then. Yes, your husband's days in the Senate are numbered. And given our mutual, how you say, animosity . . . ." Chet's drawl enunciated the word, almost adding an extra syllable. " . . . it will come to almost no one's surprise that I am pleased as punch with that eventuality."

He let his words hang a moment. She stood before his desk like a wayward schoolgirl brought up to face the teacher. Had she pigtails, he expected she'd be nervously toying with one. Interesting.

"So I question what it is you would ask of me, Mrs. Adams. That you might personally suffer from the political downfall of the Senator is not my intention, but merely an inevitable consequence of your choice in husband. 'For richer or for poorer', as the words go."

His silver-tinged eyebrows narrowed slightly. "If you have come to plead for your husband's reprieve, you have wasted your time, Mrs. Adams. I will not save him from defeat. Nor am I particularly inclined to offer him perch elsewhere in this administration. I think I would rather be quit of him entirely."

His blue eyes opened slightly. "So just what do you seek from me, Mrs. Adams?"

 

[julia_in_nj2007]

That dripping drawl sent a chill up her spine. For as long as America, people from her background had underestimated men who spoke with abdrawl. A man with a drawl who had a title and a recognizable name was likely someone who pulled more puppet strings than anyone could have ever guessed.

She bowed her head a bit at his lecture. She could sense him realizing her had power. Her senses were so aroused.

"SenatornTsylor, Inapologize for not making myself clear. I did not come to ask for my husband's reprieve. I know you are not capable of such an action." And she paused. "And further... he does not deserve one."

She took a deep breath.

"My husband is not even one-thousandth of the man you are. He is barely fit to be you golf caddy, let alone the peer here in the Senate. I came to tell you in person that you are my husband's superior. And I want to align myself with you... Sir."

 

[saedo]

Chet raised his right eyebrow in curiosity. "You are not what I expected, Mrs. Adams," he intoned. "Not what I expected."

Intrigued, he rose from his chair and circled around ancient mahogany desk. Mrs. Adams had long limbs and wasn't afraid to accentuate that with heels, but her forehead still didn't quite reach his nose. He stood close enough to make her tilt her head to match his piercing blue gaze.

The proximity was enough to smell her perfume. That plus a tinge of sweat. He could feel the warmth radiating from her as well. Mrs. Adams was running a bit hot this afternoon. Merely anxiety at meeting her husband's opponent? Or something more?

"First, a slight correction, Mrs. Adams. You are wrong to suggest that I was -- how did you put it? -- incapable of saving your husband." Chet leaned in, still smiling, but unmistakably predatory. "I could save him, Mrs. Adams. With a few phone calls, I could see him through to another term. But I choose not to."

He straightened his posture once more. "As for you aligning yourself, Mrs. Adams, those words are certainly pretty enough. But as you well know, words are just that: words. So forgive me Mrs. Adams if I place little stock in the flattering words of my rival's lovely wife. If you are committed to this course, I'd like to see something more tangible."

Chet stepped back and took a seat on the edge of his desk. " So how can you be of service, Mrs. Adams? Any ideas? "

His eyelids lowered as he contemplated her. "I noticed you seemed rather warm, Mrs. Adams. I find I think better when I'm cooler and my skin can breathe. Sometimes I'll work at this desk half the day with my shirt and pants draped over that chair. I find it . . . stimulating."

 

[julia_in_nj2007]

She felt some pangs of guilt with her choice of words. But the shocks through her body at what she said. Senator Taylor's reaction. He belied. I excitement. Just the natural course of someone admitting their place to him. Something he was no doubt used to.

Her body tensed up as he moved into her personal space. His presence engulfed her. Her hands were shaky as he sat onto the desk. He owned the room. He owned all who entered it -- be it another Senator, a staffer or the wife of a rival. He knew it was his kingdom.

She steeled her eyes at his suggestion.

"May I please take off my top?" She knew the answer already. She started to fumble with the buttons of her white top. Slowly sliding it off. Draping it on the chair as innotated. Then she reached back and did the same with her skirt. Stepping out of it and neatly hanging it over the chair. She stood in her white bra and white panties.

She looked down.

"Is there anything else I may do to prove to you my commitment to being of service to you... Sir?"

 

[saedo]

Chet kept his smile restrained rather than give into a great belly laugh. This was almost too easy. Usually he had to charm or cajole them a bit more.

He still wasn't entirely sure what this woman wanted. If she was currying political favor, she'd yet to make any sort of specific demand. He'd also offered her no assurances in return, yet she stood clothed in her underwear in his office all the same.

Perhaps this had more to do with what she said about his superiority to her husband. Some women definitely had a fetish for power. Perhaps his domination of her husband spurred this current submission to the more powerful male.

Chet, Howe, had never been much for philosophical musings. If a subtle hint got her to strip to her underwear, he was not going to question his good fortune.

And it was definitely good. Orbs as pale as the moon surged above the cups of her bra. Although plain white, the fabric was silk, not cotton. Either Mrs. Adams had expensive tastes, or she'd anticipated that she might be putting on a display today.

His appraisal led to a shift of something thick and heavy beneath his gray wool dress pants. Her eyes widened slightly as she was noticed the change in the drape of his fabric. Good. She was observant, too.

"Mrs. Adams, I think I might just agree with you about the temperature of this room. Perhaps a little less clothing is just the ticket."

Chet pushed off from the desk and stood in front of her again. Tempting as it was to admire the way her breasts rose and fell with her breathing, he met her eyes directly without wavering. "Why don't you give me a hand with my belt, Mrs. Adams."

 

[julia_in_nj2007]

Her heart was pounding. Racing. She felt so out of her body. It was as if she was watching herself. He stood up again. Subtly in her space, the little signifier of someone being in control.

She reached to his belt. And the started to undo it. She could see his bulge. And she undid his belt. And the his trouser and unzipped his fly.

She paused again.

"Sir. There is something I feel I must say." He nodded. She took a deep breath. And half a step back.

And then she got on her knees. Her hands cupped as if she was in prayer.

"Please, Senator Taylor. I beg you. Please let me align myself with you and all you stand for, Sir. I promise you will have my full and total loyalty, Sir. I will serve you as you see fit. Please, Senator Taylor, Sir. I will be as loyal and faithful as your most dutiful intern, Sir.

 

[saedo]

Bemusement colored the Senator's face. This was a strange one. Her need for eloquence and gestures were a far cry from the usual luscious women kneeling before him with his fly ajar. Not bad, necessarily. But different.

"Mrs. Adams," he intoned with a narrowed gaze, "your words are quite nice, but as I've previously stated, I trade in harder currency. Deeds, my dear, are where the true metal of a man -- or woman -- is measured."

He pointed towards his lower half. He couldn't see directly thanks to rather broad expanse of belly he'd added in his middle years. (Tricia used to kid that with a horse cock like his, it deserved a stable over its head.) But he had a general idea.

"If you demonstrate your value to me, then yes, Mrs. Adams; I just might accept your allegiance to me. I might overlook your poor choice in marriage and perhaps even use my considerable power to improve your position."

Chet raised a cautionary finger. "If. If you prove your worth to me, Mrs. Adams. Not before."

 

[julia_in_nj2007]

She heard the tone. She saw his intimidating finger. Her whole soul belonged to him. She knew she was being not just weak (DC's ultimate sin) but also pathetic.

She simply nodded. She slowly pulled his trousers to his ankles. And then his white boxers. He was impressive not just in his power. His member was large - if she were to compare it to her husband's, she would not be lying in saying it was much larger.

This time, she chose not to say anything. She closed her eyes. Her tongue found its way to his head, as her right hand gently gripped his shaft, jerking it. Her tongue slid all over the tip, her lips gently embracing it. Soon, her tongue started to explore both sides of his cock, as well as the shaft.

Her mouth slowly swallowed the rest of him. Her lips were tight on his engorgements. She moaned as it filled her mouth. Her feet were kicking the floor. Her knees buried into the high-end official rug with his state's flag. His desk moved a bit in tune with the pace of her pleasure. She felt his hand and his large class ring on her head, directing as he wanted, as always.

 

[saedo]

His most recent words seemed to have gotten through to her. Jennifer ceased her grand pronouncements and reached for his pants.

Chet grinned as she gave the usual gasp and stare as his dangling cock was revealed. Even Tricia still marveled at it and she'd been sleeping with him for more than a decade. He half suspected it was part of the reason she'd remained so loyal to him. A woman of her talents and beauty had a lot of opportunities available,but just as she loved being the wife of a powerful man, she liked being the wife of a well-hung man as well.

Fortunately his rival's wife was impressed, but not frightened. The younger interns sometimes were completely undone by the sight of something so massive. Actual adults like Mrs. Adams had sufficient self esteem not to go to tears. He saw her swallow her uncertainty and then reach for his member.

"It takes a little while to warm up," he explained as her fingers curved along the softened shaft. Chet did not entirely miss the near-instant erections of his teens. The slower response time of his libido also conferred great staying power. He could outlast almost anyone.

"Mmmm," he murmured as Mrs. Adams took the head of the shaft between her lips. She began to suck on him, prompting more sounds of pleasure from him. His cock steadily responded as well, increasing in both size and stiffness. After a minute, his stiff rod filled both her hands as she bobbed up and down upon him.

In truth, he could have made it easier on her. He could use the release and her technique wasn't bad even if she could only take a portion of his length. He could have coaxed himself in blowing his load in her mouth from her efforts.

But Chet wasn't feeling generous. He still did not entirely trust this unexpected gift. Senator Adams might just be smart enough to prey on Chet's vices and his luscious wife might be just loyal enough to volunteer to be a Trojan horse. Unlikely, but Chet had not survived Washington politics this long by discounting threats, no matter how unlikely.

He waited till tears were forming at the corners of her eyes. By now his girth required her to open her jaw to an uncomfortable degree and he could see she was beginning to struggle. He pushed her head back till his cock popped free, the upper third shiny with her saliva.

"This isn't proving sufficient for me, Mrs. Adams," he lied smoothly. "I think you will need to contribute a bit more to prove your value."

He pointed to her chest and her milky-white mounds as they strained against her bra with her breathing. "Take that off."