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Chapter 2 by sindermann sindermann

who do you follow?

Swing Vote

"Goddammit!" was the first thing I heard as my eyes slowly opened. I didn't even have to look over at my husband, Ben, to know he was checking some news site or another on his phone. I turned my head, sleep still heavily upon me, to see that it was only 4:15 in the morning.

"Mmm. What is it, dear?" I asked, too sleepy to really care what the answer was. I shifted my long, pale legs under the covers and stretched my hourglass figure; hoping to quickly fall back asleep after he slid out of the bed. I looked at my husband, the distinguished Senator Ben Cohen of the great state of Maryland, and reminded myself that a woman's duty is to submit to her husband. I knew he had been to the doctor to see about a forming ulcer due to the stress of his reelection campaign, but as the silk sheets slid over my bare skin I couldn't help but wish he'd fulfill HIS marital duties once in a while.

"John fuckin' Greene is what's up. NINE points up, to be exact! What the Hell is happening to this country?" he muttered, mostly to himself. I'd met Ben as a fresh-faced campaign volunteer seven years ago. His boldness, conviction, and enthusiasm to help his constituents quickly overcame any I had about his faith (I was raised Protestant, he is a non-practicing Jew), the fact that he is 14 years older than I, and that I am about 2" taller than he is.

He headed for the door, tossing his phone onto the bed beside me. No doubt he was going to make the morning coffee and pour over the data the campaign headquarters was constantly sending him. I tried to close my eyes, but memories of our initial courtship welled up. I remember him approaching me angrily and tossing a stack of papers on desk. "We're never gonna win if we don't get these press releases out." were the first words he spoke to me. It was kind of shocking. I was barely 19, a full 5'10 tall with 34D breasts, a thin waist, long smooth legs, and a head full of red hair. Most men were nice to me. It really is easier if you are pretty. Not Ben. He looked passed my looks and demanded I do my part. I was smitten instantly. It was the night of his win in the primary that he screamed "YES!" and kissed me...

I sighed, and slid out from under the covers. It was no use trying to sleep when every time I closed my eyes I remembered our wedding night. I walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. It was going to be a long day, so I might as well get started. Ben hadn't showered yet. I hoped he would burst in and catch me off guard, push me against the wall and take me hard and fast like he used to. He used to be so passionate, so spontaneous. I slid my hand down my body, knowing that if I was going to get any release, I'd have to do it myself.

As my hands slid over my pale body, I heard him walk back into the bedroom, and then into the bathroom. I bit my lip in anticipation, my fingers sliding between my cleanly shaven pussy lips. I could here him on the other side of the shower curtain as I widened my stance. I pressed my index finger in, sighing.

Then I heard the faucet. He was just brushing his teeth. "You know, I don't think the votes are there. We gotta do something to get the youth vote, the black vote, the blue collar vote." he said with a mouthful of toothpaste. I pulled at my tender nipple as he spoke, my other finger driving deeper into me as he ignored me. "I'm gonna need you on the campaign trail again. You were my secret weapon." he said as I felt myself start to quiver. "I need you to do your Christian duty and support me, right now. We gotta do whatever it takes, or I'm done in politics. Christ, I'm not even 50..."he said, spitting into the sink.

"My Christian duty..." I said, failing to keep the flutter out of my voice.

"Yeah. You know, get out there. Really pound the ground." he said as I tensed up, a wave of pleasure rippling through me as I felt myself tighten around my plunging fingers. "We gotta do whatever it takes." he repeated before walking out of the bathroom.

"Whatever it takes..." I thought to myself, the thrill of pleasuring myself diminishing with his departure. I slid the shower curtain open, and looked at myself in the mirror. "A wife's job is to serve her husband, however that may be." I told myself, and reached for my towel. Just how I was going to end up doing that, however...

what happens next?

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