Toss-Up

 

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Thursday, October 15th

HipsterHub Weekly ⋅ Portland, OR ⋅ Vol. 14, Issue 42

Dear Readers: With just 19 days until Election Day, Poli+Ticks with Willie Boggs” will run daily on our blog until Election Day (November 4th). We hope you enjoy it...but really, we just hope that you VOTE.

--HHW

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Poli+ticks with Willie Boggs: Election 2014 Coverage and Countdown Update

19 DAYS UNTIL ELECTION DAY

Here’s all I think you need to know today:
-1.68 million Oregonians are expected to vote, otherwise calculated as just 70% of the 2.4 million total registered voters (I believe by most grading systems, that earns you a ‘D’ by the skin of your teeth)
-Out-of-state and overseas voters have received their ballots in the mail. If you’re reading this, you’re probably not one of them.
-If you haven’t received your voter’s pamphlet, visit your County Elections Office for a free copy. More to come. Stay tuned.

CHAPTER ONE

“So you think she’s going to lock up the teacher vote?” said Gary.

“Yeah. Absolutely. Never been a question,” Kimi responded, stopping herself from further sarcastic comments. Gary was her lead organizer and he was new to politics; she felt an almost maternal motivation not to totally embarrass him in his first strategy meeting.

“That Survey USA poll was brutal, though. Sixty-forty for Kramer? That’s damn near impossible to overcome! Ballots are out already, and—” Cameron’s pallid, porcine face was turning pink with emotion as he got worked up.

“Cameron.” Kimi’s command was unequivocal. Her Communications Director was a wizard with the press. With everyday people, though, he could be somewhat brash.

He closed his mouth, keeping his thin lips in a straight line and adjusting his square-style aviator frame glasses. Kimi found his choice of the twenty-five-year-old spectacle style odd. He wasn’t much more than twenty-five himself.

Kimi closed her eyelids and privately rolled her deep brown eyes toward the ceiling. She exhaled through her nose, counting to seven like she was in yoga class. She rubbed her temples and pulled her fingers through her dark brown hair slowly to finish the relaxation sequence.

“We have to stay focused on the shoot tomorrow. That is the most immediate and pressing thing going on right now. Yes, Survey USA confirms what we already knew, which is that she’s stronger on education than David is. Let’s keep our eye on the prize here. This ad has to air ASAP.” Kimi sighed.

It wasn’t that the Thursday strategy meeting was boring, or that Kimi didn’t want to be there. Kimi Sanborn loved her job as a political consultant. She worked the long hours without begrudging them: it was what she’d want to be doing with her time anyway. She was well aware of how lucky she was to be among the people who liked their job that much.

But the candidate they were working with, David Plimson, was losing, according to the latest reputable poll. Kimi hated losing, as any consultant worth her salt should. The real trouble was that it was worse than just losing: he was losing to a Republican woman, Maria Kramer, in a new swing district. Like a ninety-year-old contracting pneumonia, the polling and the whole direction of the campaign smacked of inevitable death. It was hard to keep the impatience out of her voice when her staff was getting bogged down in details that had no bearing on the present, and moreover, were fully her responsibility – not theirs.

“I know, but what if we need to rethink the ad’s whole feel, the look, the message?” Cameron asked, sounding desperate almost to comical effect.

“We don’t. And that’s because we don’t get into it with her on the education issue this late in the game. That ship has sailed. If we pick that fight, we lose. She’ll get her cronies talking and make herself look like the goddamn Educational Messiah. We’ve got to focus on David’s pro-choice and pro-middle class stance, and get them out there loud and clear. Those are the issues Kramer polls the weakest on, and the issues that Oregonians care most about.” Kimi paused, assessing their level of agreement. They looked neutral. She added as punctuation, “We’re going to beat her.”

“You’re the boss,” Cameron said with a slightly mocking tone that made Kimi want to punch his little piggy face.

“Yep -- I am. So would you guys please make sure that our session with David for script prep is all set and that we’re ready with paperwork and wardrobes for the shoot on Saturday? I have an appointment, and I need to leave soon.” Kimi said evenly, almost kindly. She felt powerful when she reined in her temper – a personal triumph of sorts, after many years of practice.

“Can do. See you in the morning,” Gary said. Cameron gave his usual salute, half-hearted this time.

Kimi gathered her copies of the poll and the Secretary of State’s ballot report, and returned to her office. She jotted on her notepad a reminder to call their account rep at the production company to review logistics and confirm their outstanding balance before she requested the final check.

Kimi took a deep breath and focused her energy on the eagle-eye view of Plimson’s campaign. He was squeaky clean; it wasn’t him that was the problem. He was perfect for the district except for his outspoken affiliation with the ACLU in college, but Cameron had expertly maneuvered that into a positive for the campaign, touting the second amendment protection to appease the ‘suburban woodsmen’ voting bloc.

Kimi kept thinking about Maria Kramer -- there had to be a rough spot somewhere. Twenty-four-hour marriage in Vegas? Back taxes owed? Taking a bribe for a school board vote? Maria Kramer couldn’t possibly be that clean. They hadn’t been able to catch her flubbing up (let alone dig up any dirt) and with only nineteen days until election day, they probably wouldn’t. A pro-choice and pro-middle class ad was the safest action they could take, she assured herself. She needed to clear her head. And she was hungry. She packed her laptop and papers into her bag, locked her office door, and got into her car. A solution would present itself.

Predictably, the car followed its habitual course toward her apartment, but on the way there she spotted a dive bar with an irresistible marquee sign: FRIED CHICKEN PLATE $6.99 | BEER SPECIALS

There’s something about fried food and beer, she thought, that sounds so seductive right now. She slowed, and spotted a space fifty yards down that she didn’t even have to parallel park into. Her stomach growled long and loud when she got out of the car and smelled the fryer.

Inside the dive there weren’t many tables, but there was three-sided bar seating. She ordered at the bar – a fried chicken plate and one of the beers on special – and sat down, opening the New York Times app on her smart phone to catch up on the day’s news she had missed while attending to campaign needs. Bleak forecast on the economy. Political unrest in Libya, Syria. More anti-choice federal legislation. What else is fucking new?

Sometimes, working for one single candidate seemed so insignificant, so meaningless. She’d developed a tough outer shell that kept her from taking things too personally but she hadn’t lost touch with the idealist she’d been at age 21. Not far below the surface was the bright-eyed New Hampshire girl ready to feed the hungry and defend the homeless; a Peace Corps offer letter in one hand and the Utne Reader in the other. She almost laughed at the image of herself that she beheld in her mind’s eye.

“Excuse me, may I sit with you?” said a male voice from beside her. It didn’t sound like a come-on. Puzzled, Kimi looked up. A stranger who looked like a parent chaperone at Burning Man stood there next to her. She sighed inside. Oh, Portland.

“Sure, I guess.” She was in no mood for small talk, and hoped that the man wasn’t one of those overly friendly Oregonians who didn’t know when to shut up.

“No problem. Thanks.” He sat, and took out a crossword puzzle and pencil so fast that it seemed like part of a magic act. Clearly it was a motion he made so often that he did it swiftly and gracefully without thinking, completely integrated into his body language. Her fried chicken came and she wished she had a newspaper to prop up in between them. She’d been looking forward to eating without worrying too much about her table manners.

She ate more slowly than she wanted to, being careful not to make too much of a mess. After every few bites, she’d wipe her hands completely and click through some more headlines, forcing herself to slow down. New York Congressman resigns amid sex scandal. Death row case denied clemency in Texas. She let out a sigh.

When she had finished what she could eat and drained the last of the beer, she wrapped up the rest in the foil they’d served it with. She slid her phone into her purse and said, “Have a good night,” to her table companion, even though she usually dispensed with pleasantries unless the lack thereof would hurt her professional reputation.

“You too,” he replied. She wasn’t looking but it sounded like he was smirking and she could feel him watching her walk away. She smiled privately: at least she could still make them look.

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CHAPTER TWO

Solomon Ungerleiner, despite his rough appearance, was a vegetarian. Anyone who knew him -- which frankly wasn’t a very long list at all, more or less due to the nature of his job -- would have known he was on the clock at the Rusty Anchor the night they served fried chicken on special.

Solomon dressed for comfort only, always. In his line of work, there was no reason to dress up—it only made you more noticeable, and that was counter to the mission. He left his sandy brown hair chin-length so that he could wear a ponytail, a disheveled ‘do, or even dye or cut it if necessary. His blue eyes were often behind non-prescription metal frame glasses. His rather rugged, almost Neanderthal features could be made attractive or repulsive. He needed the flexibility, and most of the time aimed for a middle-of-the-road level of attractiveness. It was the most forgettable.

Solomon was indulging in a beer, which his naturopathic doctor had advised against. He had had a long day of preliminary research thus far, and since he would be eating no fried meat, he needed a reason to be inside the Rusty Anchor.

He hadn’t pegged Miss Sanborn for the dive bar type, but all that meant was that this was going to be a lively gig. Tracking was grueling and often mind-numbing work; most people didn’t do it for more than one campaign before they burned out and looked for a better-paying job. Solomon, however, was different. He had highly desirable skills (grit, patience, sound judgment, and remarkable resourcefulness) that most people in the political world didn’t possess.

His cell phone rang from an unsaved local number.“Hello?”

“It’s me. How’s it going?” The voice on the other end crackled. If one didn’t already know who it was, they’d have a hard time figuring out whether the voice belonged to a man or a woman from the deep, scratchy, androgynous sound.

“Fine. Our little CM is going to run up my mileage.”“And where are you?”

“The Rusty Anchor,” he replied, waiting for a sign of amusement, which did not come.

“So you’re at a bar?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” There was a pause. He was a recent hire, so his supervisor was not yet accustomed to some of his less conventional tactics. “Trust me,” he added without a drop of uncertainty. The pause on the other end continued with a rich, steady rushing sound. Cigarette smokers.

“See you at our check-in tomorrow.”

“See you there,” he replied just before the line clicked off. These days they used these goddamn softy, leftist, touchy-feely words like “check in” and “professional development,” and “feedback”. He had never minded meetings, hard knocks, or flak.

Solomon finished his beer and tapped his pocket to check that his map of Portland was still folded up and ready in his pocket. He threw a dollar tip on the bar and walked to his car.

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CHAPTER THREE

At her apartment, Kimi was always reminded that a world outside of politics did in fact exist. It required the payment of bills, the washing of dishes, the sweeping of kitchen floors. She wished she made enough money to afford a personal assistant, whom she fantasized about tasking with all of life’s little managerial duties and unpleasant chores. A personal assistant would increase her effectiveness and productivity on the job by at least twenty percent, she figured – and that was a calculation purely based on time, without factoring in the intangible benefits of efficiency that would come from of peace of mind, trust, and the pleasure of having a clean apartment. And while of course she had friends and interests outside of work, they weren’t the focus of her life.

Kimi put the fried chicken in the refrigerator and added the new mail to the growing stack of yet-to-be-opened envelopes. Thinking about the SurveyUSA results, and the ad shoot tomorrow, she could feel the little ball of stress that lived in her core growing bigger and blacker by just a tiny bit in that moment, so she did what always helped the stress dissipate: she opened her laptop and went back to work. She needed to look at further polling and decide how that would affect their next media buy – after the ad that they were shooting tomorrow, of course.

Kimi’s apartment, which housed her work station at the very center of the living room, was a most unusual living space. Not many people had seen the inside. When she dated occasionally, she liked to be a guest at the homes of others so that she was always in a position to leave at a moment’s notice. She could remain mysterious and leave them wanting more—infinitely preferable over explaining to someone why she needed them to kindly leave now (work, of course). It was an awkward exchange, after which they’d never call again.

It made sense when she thought about it from the other person’s perspective. But what was she supposed to do? Tell the political reporter on deadline for the online version of the state’s largest newspaper to wait a couple hours so she could wrap up conversation with the company? Hardly. No one waits in this business. If you get the scoop or land the job, it’s because you got there first and did it the best.

At her work station, Kimi had everything she needed within arm’s reach: a pitcher of water and a glass, her laptop, a phone with a headset, a legal pad and pens. A desktop computer that was always on and connected to the internet, with a browser open to the New York Times, the Oregonian, FiveThirtyEight, and whatever databases her current clients were using for their campaign. She liked having her work space in the middle of the room because it felt more peaceful and less punishing than working on the couch. Working on the couch just seemed cruel. If you’re going to relax, relax. If you’re going to work, work.

She settled in for several hours of poring over polling numbers, news articles, video from the most recent school board meeting, and a quick look at the first voter turnout data. She stretched back, countering the hunched position that inevitably molded her body whenever she sat down to do work. As she unraveled the power cord from inside her Coach bag – quality leather items made lugging around a laptop less miserable – her phone beeped and buzzed with a text message.

What are you doing on Saturday night, sexy? I’ll be in town...

It was from Benjamin Nash, a D.C. lobbyist she had met over a year ago at a bar in the District, overrun with political hacks and horny journalists. She thought it presumptuous of him to send an unsigned text message and assume she’d saved his number. Then again, he had been right.

The night they had met, Kimi was in D.C. visiting Tara, her best friend from Keene State, and of course not missing an opportunity to do a little citizen lobbying on several important bills she had been following. Tara had laughed at her: only someone like you actually follows federal legislation in their personal time, Tara said, you total and complete geek. Kimi had no defense. She was a geek, and always had been. It wasn’t until her late twenties that she’d gotten the hang of applying makeup, dressing to flatter her curvy figure instead of hide it, and wearing her hair down instead of in a ponytail. Suddenly, she was much more attractive to men of all ages. She took it as a lesson in presentation, and for the most part had used it to great advantage in her professional life.

Tara and Kimi gone out for a glass of wine and Benjamin had “accidentally” brushed her as he ferried beers back to his table, apologizing warmly and making sure she saw where he sat down. As Kimi and Tara lounged at the bar, Benjamin kept looking at her with a sparkle in his eye. Kimi knew that eventually he’d get up and come talk to her.

“Okay, when Mr. Cute Guy at that table comes over here to ask me out, can I invite him back to your place?” Kimi asked Tara, a sly smile on her face. Tara smirked. She’d seen this routine before. When Kimi set her mind to something, there was very little anyone else could do to stop her from following through.

“No,” Tara said mockingly.“No?!”

“The way I see it, I have two options: option one is to get some sleep before I have to go to work tomorrow. Option two is to listen to you and Mr. Cute Guy up all night bumping and grinding on my pull-out couch.” She narrowed her eyes, smiled and waited for Kimi’s response.

“Me? You think I would do that to your couch?” Kimi asked, feigning innocence and shock.

“Ab-so-fucking-lutely,” Tara said, taking a definitive sip of her wine to indicate the matter was settled. “If he comes over to hit on you and you just have to do it with him tonight, go to his place and take a cab back to mine in the morning. I’ll give you my mailbox key now and leave my door key in the mailbox before I go to the office.”

Kimi grinned. Sometimes it was like Tara read her mind. Tara shook her head, rolled her eyes and sighed, as if to say, “hey, what can you do?”. She winked at Kimi and they burst into laughter, which seemed to be Mr. Cute Guy’s signal for action. He got up and walked directly over to them.

“Excuse me,” he said to Kimi, not appearing to be as smarmy as she had expected. Tonight she was expecting full-on D.C. bravado and was prepared to deal with it because she was feeling horny, but instead found his tone and demeanor to be genuinely nice and maybe even a little intriguing.

“Yes?” Kimi smiled expectantly.

“My friend over here is the most boring man I know,” he started.

“Hey, come on!” his friend called, acting offended but clearly playing along with the setup.

“So after I put him in a cab back to Amish country, I was hoping I could invite you over to my apartment for some scintillating conversation...maybe a game of Scrabble?”

“Amish country! Boy, that’s rich,” his friend chimed in, milking the jilted act for all it was worth. Kimi and Tara laughed, and the guys made a fleeting moment of eye contact with each other. Tara and Kimi did the same.

“I love Scrabble,” Kimi said with a deliberate pause, “but I have to warn you -- I’ll probably beat you so badly you’ll be begging me for mercy,” she said, letting the angle of her face shift downward as she looked up at him from below her lashes.

His eyebrows raised just enough to be noticeable. Kimi fought the urge to look at his pants, wondering if his dick had moved at all. He was obviously an assertive person and seemed to enjoy the way she was returning the approach.

“I’ll take you up on that challenge...I just hope you won’t feel too crushed if you’re the one begging for mercy,” he said, smiling. Tara’s eyes were wide. Kimi never ceased to surprise her. She was practically humping this guy with her words, right there in the bar! Tara watched in surprise as the two strangers looked in each other’s eyes with delight. It was practically sickening.

“Well, I for one have to be at work early tomorrow, so I’ll leave you two to your Scrabble. “You got my drink?” Tara asked Kimi, knowing she wouldn’t say no in front of Mr. Cute Guy.

“Of course. Mailbox key?” She held out her hand, pocketed the key, and they

exchanged a little hug. “See you later on,” Kimi said, not wanting to give off the impression that she was considering fucking him all night and returning to Tara’s the following morning.

“I’m Benjamin,” said Mr. Cute Guy, offering his hand.“I’m Kimi, with an ‘I’,” she said with a firm handshake and a playful half-smile.

They had, in fact, started playing Scrabble back at his place, sitting on the floor on either side of his low coffee table. He was a strategic player and had made several small, uninteresting yet high-scoring words, which she looked down upon a little, as strategies go. She knew how to rack up the points too, but personally preferred words with more difficult letters and phonemic combinations. It was the letter J and the fourth -- fifth? -- glass of wine that finally brought to a simmer their desires to taste and touch one another. She drew a single square from the bag following her turn, but instead of hiding it and forming various permutations of J-words with her given letters, she flipped it around and showed him.

“You’re going down,” she said coyly, having already played the X and the Z. “I’ve got words here you haven’t even dreamed of.”

“Is that so?” He leaned in closer to her until he was just a few inches from her cheek, tantalizing her.

“Oh yeah,” she said, turning to the side and tilting her head back very slightly, further exposing her neck and inviting him to kiss it. He took the invitation without hesitation.

“Oh...yeah,” she repeated as his lips and a flicker of his tongue explored her jaw line and moved down to her collarbone. Her breath deepened sharply and he responded by sliding his hand behind her to support her while he tasted her.

“Yeah?” he asked softly, playfully, as he took her earlobe between his teeth and his lips and gave it a playful tug. She gasped a little. His breath in her ear along with a little nip made her shiver and she could feel her nipples gather and stand beneath her top and bra. She slid her hand behind him and together they sank down onto one elbow on the floor.

Their lips found each other, tongues eagerly tangling together and tasting the wine they’d shared. He didn’t seem to have a strong scent himself, but she was enamored of the cologne he had chosen. She didn’t know enough about men’s fragrance to recognize it, but it smelled manly and made her pussy begin to pulse lightly.

Their kisses intensified for several seconds, hands pawing at shoulders and waists, until Kimi pulled back suddenly. She breathed heavily and looked him in the eye.

“You’re fucking sexy,” he said before she could speak. She laughed a flattered who- me? little laugh and slid in for a follow-up kiss, deep and sensual, finishing it with a little bite on his lip, which made him moan just a tiny bit. He was still pawing her arms and legs; nothing too scandalous at the moment, but he was ready to tear her clothes off -- she could tell.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said as she stroked his back and shoulders, moving her hands up to rest upon the back of his head. A powerful position. “I just have two little bitty rules, before I let you ravage me...”

Intrigued and deeply aroused, stroking her neck and her hair while he kissed her ear, he responded thinly, “Uh huh, what rules?”

“No hickeys anywhere and no holding me down,” she purred, letting her hands drift down his torso toward his midsection and beginning to tug his shirt out of his pants. She reinforced her desire to go further, lest he think her too picky. He exhaled a little laugh, relieved that she hadn’t said, “I need to meet your mother before we go on a real date.” He was incredibly aroused. This sexy woman was both assertive and horny, and dear god, she was definitely undressing him – he felt his shirt come fully untucked under her fingertips and felt his abdomen tremble with anticipation of her touch going lower and lower.

“I don’t think that will be any problem at all,” he buzzed in her ear, leaning down. “Hickeys are for teenagers...and if I held you down I would never find out what it’s like to have you climb on top of me and have your way with me.” He rolled from one elbow onto his palms, suspended above her so that his biceps and pecs were flexed and at their most impressive, which she noticed with her hands.

“What a wonderful way to look at it,” Kimi smiled, genuinely turned on and flushed pink with the anticipation of the moment when either one of them would have their way with the other. She moaned and arched her back, bringing her hips up to meet his. His head swiveled downward and resumed their thick kisses. He undressed her down to her bra and panties in a matter of seconds, which heightened her desire even more; she could feel the blood pulsing through her loins and the slippery sensation of her lips becoming wet and aching for the stiff fullness of a cock.

She had his shirt and pants off almost as quickly; he sported boxer briefs that she was sad she’d have to remove – they were very flattering on his fairly muscular body. He let his hips grind into hers as she spread her legs to rest upon him, and she felt the length of his hard-on against her pelvis and thigh. It felt sizable and she couldn’t wait to see it up close. He pulled her bra off over her head, skipping the clasp altogether; she stroked and swirled her fingernails lightly over his abdomen to tease him, making him moan, before she grabbed the waistband of the briefs and pulled down.

To her surprise, he was either waxed or freshly shaven. Without a garden of pubes to cover any part of the base, his erect penis looked exceptionally sleek and large. She let out an “mmm” and before she could help herself, had leapt to her knees and was tonguing the shaft of his cock while she ran her hands up the insides of his legs to meet in the middle and cup his balls with one, and stroke his cock with the other.

He breathed heavily in ohhh’s and ahhh’s as he watched her body make a cat-like shape. He’d never been one of those guys that was into blow jobs, per se, but he was enjoying this immensely and hoped desperately it was a prelude to fucking. He was already picturing himself sinking into her doggy-style so he could watch the penetration.

With his penis reaching deep into her mouth, then retreating, then reaching again, her nipples were hard and her panties were cold with wetness; she couldn’t resist reaching her hand down into them to feel her clitoris and spread her juices over it, making sure she was ready for him.

“Oh, I want to feel what’s under there too,” he said when he noticed where her hand had gone.

“Be my guest,” she breathed as her mouth joined her hand, stroking his dick firmly. He allowed it for a few seconds, but was completely distracted by the thought of her wetness. Rising to his knees, he lifted her up deftly so that she was now standing on her feet. He looked up from below, anticipating what her pink parts looked like firm and wet as he smoothed his hands over the shape of her hips.

He slid her panties off slowly, taking in her shape and biting his lip a little when he finally got them down far enough to see her small manicured lawn of pubic hair.  What luck, she thought. She’d somehow had the presence of mind to trim up and shave the edges very carefully before her trip. He buried his nose in her hair and breathed hot air onto her, which warmed up the wetness between her legs. His hands ranged gently over her thighs and headed in toward the money spot.

“Oh my god,” he exclaimed as his fingers found her lips, swollen and almost dripping with arousal. She gave a half-embarrassed giggle at how wet she had become.

“Ohhmmmm,” he groaned as he spread her legs apart, widening her stance so he could reach her vagina, “Jesus...”

She hoped he would be gentle on her clitoris and not overstimulate it in their frenzied excitement. Less was more right now. As his finger found her opening, his mouth expertly covered her clit and sucked lightly, igniting several little sparks that became small, bright flames, like lanterns leading up an enchanting path. Generally, it took several experiences with someone before she felt comfortable enough to let them work her into a genuinely explosive orgasm – but this. This! His very first contact with her clit, and she couldn’t help it -- she was already building up.

His touch was perfect. He worked his finger lightly from back to front instead of inside- and-out so quickly and delicately that it almost felt like he was using a vibrator. Like sliding quarters out of a piggy bank’s slot with a butter knife, his technique was counterintuitive but incredibly sensual...and dare she say, effective. She moaned and felt her head getting lighter as her legs and her pussy became even warmer and wetter under his finger and tongue. As her breathing quickened, he slipped an additional finger inside her, continuing the gentle shaking motion as he changed his sucking technique on her clit to a simple, quick side-to-side tonguing. Back and forth and side to side, oh my! Kimi couldn’t believe it herself, but without a single intentional flexing of her glutes or her kegels, she felt her climax begin to gather, taking energy from her knees and her belly button and her back.

Images darted across her mind’s eye like a silent film: their bodies viewed from above, his muscular back under a curtain of her chestnut locks and she looked down in awe, watching his head of blonde hair stay nearly still as the and she heard some woman saying oh god, oh fuck, Benjamin, don’t stop...don’t stop...oh...my...

“GOD! Benjamin!!” She was practically shrieking his name, fingernails on his scalp in a clawed formation as her muscle control went fuzzy and her orgasm pulled and squeezed and soaked his hand and face. “Uhhh!!”

She could hear herself reacting, like watching her reflection in the glass sides of an aquarium. Her sounds had a life of their own, and she didn’t even care that they sounded a little like a whiny porno. Benjamin, whom she’d known for all of about two and a half hours, had just eaten her pussy and made her come without a single piece of instruction or guidance. Satisfied beyond belief, she limply collapsed down onto her knees to meet him face-to-face. His face glistened with her wetness. He was blushing and smiling, his cock standing straight up and down.

“What do you want? I’ll do whatever it is…twice,” she purred at him, taking him into her arms playfully and passionately, feeling the length of his erection against her abdomen.

“Turn around,” he said, looking her in the eye with a deep longing as his hands cupped her ass cheeks and squeezed.

“You got it,” she said, with a sultry eyebrow flicker, and turned around, dropping onto her hands and waiting for him to slide his dick in. He’d produced a condom and had torn it open with his teeth.

After rolling it on, he guided the tip of his penis around the taut folds of her lips, spreading the wetness all over, then pressed himself into her slowly as she moaned with pleasure. After coming so hard, the inside of her pussy was tight and wet, ready to stroke the length of his erection firmly.

He pressed into her until his hips were flush against her ass cheeks and his dick was buried inside of her. It was only a tiny bit uncomfortable to take in his entire length – if he fucked her too hard, it would hurt – but she loved the shared moment of ecstatic desire when their two bodies completely filled and fit one another. Even more than that, she loved sharing the delight of the first slow thrust, both of them trembling with anticipation before getting into rhythm and rocking towards climax.

His hips pulled back and his hands took hold of her hips, ready to hold them steady and guide his cock. It slid back in as if it had been built exactly for this moment right now, fitting perfectly and stretching her pussy just enough to be wildly arousing to her, even post-orgasm. Her mouth opened as she moaned – she could feel him try to calm himself and hold off for longer. She smiled slyly turned to look at him. He was watching with an expression of sheer enjoyment as her pussy took in his cock, stroking it on all sides, and her small, tight rectum alternately shrank and relaxed, making him wonder in the back of his mind if he might ever get to penetrate it.

This was his favorite scene in any porno: a good doggy-style shot, occasionally with an attractively wet pussy but never anything like Kimi’s. The women in porn hardly ever looked so wet, so genuinely aroused, with engorged labia glistening with moist desire. He pulled tighter on her hips and began to fuck her in a steady rhythm.

“Uhh,” she moaned as her tits began to bounce. He was fucking her faster and a little bit harder. The incredible oral stimulation had Kimi convinced that he knew what he was doing; so she enjoyed the feeling of him pleasuring himself with her pussy. She’d had (lesser) lovers who performed as if they were simply masturbating with her body like it was one big toy, and had felt somewhere between bored and completely turned off. But something about Benjamin just fit – he could pump as hard as he wanted, and she’d take it, for the singular reason that she wanted to give back to him the mind-numbing climax he’d given her. “Oh yeah...fuck me with your big cock,” she said before she could stop herself.

“Ohhhh....baby....talk to me more,” he replied, clearly engaged in hearing about his fucking.

“You make it feel so good....you made me come on your face, and now you’re fucking my pussy,” she said in a smallish, raspy voice.

“SHIT...yes,” he cried out, “You’re gonna make me come if you keep talking dirty to me like that,” he said in a surprisingly sexy voice, now pulling her hips back and thrusting into them so fast her breasts were nearly swinging around in circles.

“Oh yeah? It’s gonna make you come to hear me tell you how dirty you are? Fucking me like this on your floor...grabbing my ass and sliding that big cock into my tight, wet pussy...”

“Oh!!” Benjamin cried out as he began to come, and pressed farther into her than ever. His cock was big and hard enough that she could actually feel it seizing and hardening inside her, even as he continued stroking in and out. Finally he stopped abruptly, shuddering with pleasure and adrenaline.

From her nipples down, she was as hot and reactive as an exposed electrical wire. She thought briefly about asking him to eat her out again; she was already halfway to coming a second time. Inadvertently, she moaned as his climax wound down, and he pulled out gently and squeezed her ass cheeks in appreciation before collapsing onto the floor with her.

Next to him, nestled near his underarm, she took his hand and began to massage her clit with it.

“Oooh,” he moaned.

“Yeah,” she whispered, “you made me want more…”

“If you want more, baby, take it,” he murmured into her hair, turning toward her to let her guide his hand.

She took his middle and index fingers under hers and made small, quick circles on her clit, moaning softly. He studied the motions of her hand, and the feel of her clit under his fingers, and eventually began making the circles himself.

“Ahh…fuck…that’s it,” she moaned, moving her hands to his cock. Surprisingly, it was hard again. She gasped and grabbed it firmly, stroking up and down right in the middle of his shaft.

“Guess you’re not the only one who wants more,” he growled softly, pulling her to a straddled position on top of him. She pawed at his chest and panted, unbelievably aroused and ready for another orgasm. He grabbed the base of his cock, squeezed, and flexed as he traced the dripping wet slit poised above him. The head slid in almost by accident. They both gasped with pleasure. She reached for a second condom from the coffee table, tore it open, and rolled it onto his erection, smiling.

He caressed her tits with his hands. There was more than would fit in his cupped hand; he watched the flesh spill over the top and out the sides when he squeezed them, and his erection strengthened even more.

Exhaling with pleasure, Kimi allowed her knees to slide outward, bringing her pussy down onto Benjamin’s erection. She could feel herself fluttering and squeezing on the inside, damn near ready to come already. She folded at the waist and her hair and arms fell loosely down around him.

“I cannot wait to come all over that cock,” she whispered.

“Me either,” he whispered, nearly shaking with renewed desire as he began to pull back, then thrust upward. She raised and lowered her ass in tandem, moaning as his cock reached that spot inside her that made her eyes roll back in her head.

He gripped the fleshy parts of her hips to guide her, and she began to ride him harder and faster, her clit rubbing his skin as his cock penetrated deep inside her. Without the fanfare of before, her pussy began to quiver.

Ahh—” Kimi exclaimed.

“Oh yeah,” Benjamin affirmed, “let that pussy come all over me.” Kimi let it happen without trying to resist or prolong it—the pull of her orgasm engulfed both of them with a strength that they could both feel. It squeezed over and over; fast and then slowly, fast and then slowly, as if it were never going to stop.

Yes—ohhhhhmygod, yes,” Kimi cried out as her ass continued to gyrate up and down. Now he was grabbing her hard and fucking her back, even harder than before. Faster and faster, with an almost angry look in his eyes. She knew better. And she knew what he needed now.

“Uhh…you made this pussy come so hard,” she whispered in his ear in a gruff voice. It was hard to speak evenly with him fucking her so hard, which only brought him closer. He watched her breasts bounce around as he thrusted, feeling a deep tingle within him. His jaw gaped as he felt her ass slap down onto his legs, and the tingle became a jagged bolt of lightning up through his balls and his shaft,

There was a long, pleasurable, satisfied silence after that. Neither of them needed to compliment the other or excessively comment on how satisfying their one-night stand was. That went without saying. They fell asleep that night naked, with sighs of contentment on their lips.

After a short but sweet bit of cuddling with Benjamin in the morning, exchanging numbers with the obligatory loose promises to “call next time you’re in town” and “give me a buzz if you ever visit Portland,” Kimi had hailed a cab and employed the use of the mailbox key to access Tara’s apartment key the following day. Having only slept a few hours, she was powerless to fight the need for a long nap on the pull-out bed following a shower that washed everything away like the first summer downpour.

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Friday, October 16

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CHAPTER FIVE

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CHAPTER SIX

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CHAPTER SEVEN

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CHAPTER EIGHT

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CHAPTER NINE

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CHAPTER TEN

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

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Saturday, October 17

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

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~

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