Satisfied, he goes up, lying back with his body pressed against mine. "There … Much better now," he whispers, smiling at me. I run one lazy finger over his lips, an errant drop of cum still hanging there.
"Yes … Much better." With him, everything's better.
I close my eyes and smile, taking a wicked sense of pleasure in knowing that Michael is riding the limo in front of us, completely oblivious to what just happened between his son and I.
Serves him right, I think with an exhausted grin.
39
New York Daily Journal
From the Desk of Amanda Adams, the Professional Gossiper of Page Two.
Welcome to Page Two Gossip, here's what we're hearing around the halls of power:
If you think this election is getting nasty, you're not the first to think that and you're not the only one. Cheer up though; every day that passes is one day closer to the election. But, one thing everyone is thinking and asking me is this: If we're already so low less than a month into the election, how much lower and dirtier is it going to get before we get to the voting booths?
Let's do a rundown of what we've seen so far.
The campaign of Mayor Anders has accused Jim Jenkins of being a Socialist, scaring voters into thinking that should Jenkins get elected, police will no longer be able to use guns as they patrol the streets. Mayor Anders' campaign surrogates said in speeches all last week that Jim Jenkins is so opposed to gun control that he would ensure that police start doing their beats with TASERS, night sticks, and stun guns.
Not to be outdone, at a major campaign speech, Jim Jenkins suggested that should the Mayor get another term, his policies would include shutting down public schools that run on taxpayer money in support of private schools, raising the price of educating our little New Yorkers in training.
"Do you want to have to choose between a broken, burned, and underfunded public school, or a private school? Because that's the choice under Michael Anders!" Jonathan Franks, the campaign manager for Jim Jenkins was quoted as telling this paper afterward.
The Mayor's campaign shot back that Jim Jenkins' policies would include not prosecuting most crimes and opening up the prisons and letting out hardened felons.
"You want that man locked up for being a child sex offender to start looking at apartments next to public schools? Because with Jim Jenkins as mayor, they're going to be able to do just that," the Anders campaign manager retorted when asked for a follow up.
With Jim Jenkins being portrayed as a soft-on-crime bleeding heart liberal and Michael Anders being portrayed as a corporate fascist, voters aren't left with much of a choice of picking the better man. Instead, they're left with finding the least of two evils. That's right, fellow Gothamites, it's not about who we love anymore. It's about who we hate the least.
But one thing is becoming pretty abundantly clear. With the policies being twisted so badly, both campaigns are relying more and more on their families to burnish their credentials and raise their favorability ratings. Jim Jenkins showed up at Coney Island on Saturday with his wife Martha and their daughter Jennifer to eat at Nathan's Hot Dogs and ride the Cyclone before taking some pictures.
And Mayor Anders has brought out his family plenty of times, bringing his son and newly married wife to every single one of his campaign rallies and making a big show of taking them out to dinner at Bubba Gump's Shrimp Factory in Times Square.
So, it looks like this campaign is going to be won or lost based on who is hated the least. And a lot of that can be based on who has the most lovable family.
That's all for today, but we're digging up as much as we can about both families. Till we hear more, this is Amanda Adams signing off. Keep your ears open, New York.
40
Lance
I knock on the door to dad's office with a fucking weight in my stomach. It's been three days since the limo. Since I was balls deep into Jocelyn. Just thoughts of my hands holding her supple, curvy, lithe body inspire my cock into a frenzy of twitches. Fuck. I can't be thinking like this because while my cock doesn't seem to care, I'm dying of fucking guilt here.
That's right. I'm feeling guilty. I hope that doesn't surprise you.
I've never in my life done anything like this. This goes way beyond just fucking a married woman. First, she's older than me. I'm 15 years younger than her. I would have never considered anything like this before coming back to the city. Second, she's married to my dad. That makes her technically my stepmom.
Now hold on there. I know based on everything you've seen so far, you're going to tell me to calm the fuck down. That 15 years is nothing. You probably know a couple where the woman is 15 years older than the man and they have a happy marriage. And then you're going to move on to tell me that Michael Anders married my mother after I was already born. That when she died a year later, he assumed the role of guardian, but he's not technically my biological father.
Fine. From a technical standpoint, no one is related, okay. You fucking got me.
But we're not talking about technicalities here.
This is the man who fucking paid others to raise me. The man I resented my whole life for always being busy and never having time for me. The man who was always wrapped up in his life and viewed me as an accessory to trot out to make him look good by talking about how he was raising the son of his dead wife.
In short, he's the only father I've ever fucking known.
And so what do I do? I fuck the one woman who maybe he thought he would find happiness with? Really? Is that what I've come down to?
Have I fucked so many women in my life that now I need to do things that shock the senses? Has normal fucking just gotten too boring for me?
"You going to stand there or are you going to come in, Lance?" dad asks from his desk. He's staring at me, an annoyed look on his face. He's got two tablets and a computer open in front of him and it's obvious he's busy. The television is on in the far corner of the room and he puts it on mute.
I step into the office and walk to the desk. What am I even going to say here? Hey dad, how's the mayoral race coming? By the way, I'm fucking Jocelyn. Just thinking you should know because it's the right thing to do.
How do you even go about telling another man you're sleeping with his wife?
"What do you need?" dad asks, cutting through all the clutter in my head and going straight to the point. "I'm busy so I can't give you that much time. So be quick."
I sigh. He looks at me with sharp eyes.
"I wanted to talk to you about Jocelyn," I say after a moment.
He looks at me and sighs as well. Does he know?
Dad leans back in his chair. "Sorry I didn't invite you to the wedding, Lance," he says and takes off his glasses. "But there really was no wedding."
"Yeah, but you know, there wasn't even any advance notice," I reply back to him.
Dad looks at me for a moment. "Lance, you've been here for quite a few days now and you're just coming to me with this question?" he asks. "What's prompting you to ask now? If you were really this upset about not knowing, this would have been the first thing you asked me."
What the fuck? Leave it to this guy to search for the ulterior motive.
Although, to be honest, don't I have the ulterior motive here? I mean, I'm making this conversation because I feel guilty about Jocelyn. He's right to an extent.
"I'm just asking you because it seemed like a good way to get into the conversation," I tell him, trying to appear nonchalant. "It's not like we've gotten much time to talk since I got back."
He appears to consider this.
"But I mean, that's the usual, though, isn't it?" I ask, adding that one last bit in.
It seems to convince him that I'm legitimate. He sits back upright and places his elbows on the desk.
"I knew her father. You were away at school and you're old enough now that you're not really much of an asset to someone who's looking to portray being a family man. Plus, your … antics aren't really going to endear any of the demographics I need help with. And the only grandkids I'd have would all be illegitimate. So I needed a wife."
I'm silent, processing everything he's just said. It sounds so cold. So fucking calculating.
"So just like that, you what? Introduced yourself and got her to say yes?" I ask him.
Dad sighs again, as if stalling for time.
"Let's just say," he says and pauses, considering his words. "Let's just say it was in the best interests of Governor Carter to give me Jocelyn's hand in marriage."
Whoa. What the fuck is dad just telling me right here. Best interests?
"Wait one second," I say, forgetting the guilt for a moment. "Best interests of the Governor? Are you telling me this is some sort of payment?"
"I'm telling you that this is none of your business, Lance," dad says, a hard edge of steel hiding behind his voice. "And it's in your best interests to drop this."