[MF Vanilla] Steamy Makeout at the Debate

This isn’t incredibly explicit (a little bit at the end). I was just watching the debate and got frustrated, then bored, then a little horny. So I wrote a little erotica! Sorry if this is lame. There’s art that goes along with the story and a little political message about Prop 60, which is pretty important if you live in California, so I’ll link to the original version on my blog in the comments. Thanks for reading!

——–

“You can’t think [MALE CANDIDATE] will be stupid enough to answer this question, do you?” [MALE CANDIDATE]’s handler asked, throwing the stack of blue notecards on the desk in front of the white-haired moderator. They hit with a flat smack and rebounded in to a little blue snowstorm.

It was only an hour until show time. Rex reflected that the handler really should have glanced at the questions before now. They were all supposed to be pre-approved.

Jenna looked at him over her glasses. “Look like your boy is going to be a little flustered. I’m anticipating another win for [FEMALE CANDIDATE].” Rex hated Jenna, but her voice gave him butterflies every time. Well, not just her voice. He liked that those green eyes that seemed to be blazing at him. He loved her figure: curvy, a true hourglass; and she knew just how to show it off.

Jenna wore professional black heels, a charcoal grey skirt that stretched over her bubble ass like a second skin. Her blouse, also black, buttoned flat over her tummy. The buttons strained as they climbed up toward her breasts until finally they just could come together at the full swell of her bust line. Rex couldn’t guess at her measurements. She wasn’t a twig, but the bell of her hips and breasts made her waistline look tiny by comparison.

“Perv,” Jenna said, rolling her eyes.

Rex realized he must’ve gotten lost while looking at her again. She worked for [LIBERAL MEDIA OUTLET] and they had been on the road together following the campaign for months now. “I’m not a pervert, Jenna,” he said gamely. “I’m just not dignifying your ignorance with a response.” Predictably, Rex worked for [CONSERVATIVE NEWS OUTLET] which made them de facto enemies.

Rex turned his eyes back toward the circular blue stage, the eagle in the background, the small panel of viewers and the now-dejected looking moderator. [FEMALE CANDIDATE]’s handler was reading a bit of typed copy, informing a disappointing number of press agents what [FEMALE CANDIDATES]’s wardrobe would be tonight.

Rex turned and looked at Jenna, who looked chagrinned and avoided his eyes.

Rex checked his phone, noted the time and walked across the stage to the catering cart, showing his press badge to the union bouncer who stood in front of it with his arms crossed.

“You think that’s what your candidate will do when the questions get tough tonight? Shut down?” Rex felt the skin on the back of his neck turn to gooseflesh as Jenna crept up behind him.

“Jesus, is your candidate going to harass him with nonsense like you’re harassing me?”

Jenna reached past him and took a bottle of water. “I just want to know what you see in him, Rex. You’re a smart guy.”

Rex popped a fresh slice of pineapple into his mouth and walked toward the reporter pen, making sure he waited for her to walk beside him. When his mouth was full he said, “Look, I can be a Republican and not love everything [MALE CANDIDATE] stands for. I’m for business. I’m for legal—and only legal—immigration. I’m for restrictions on spending. What about you? How can you wear that pin,” Rex reached out and ran his fingers over the little brass Stars and Stripes pinned over her left breast, “and not care that the country is going fiscally and morally bankrupt?”

“I care,” she said, leaning on a wall. She cracked the lid of her water bottle and took a long drink, formulating a response. The bell rand, signaling that the press should move to their designated area. “Of course I care. I want America to be healthy, but I think that part of that health is helping the people—all the people—who live here have an equal shot at opportunity. To do that, they need things like access to transportation and enough food to eat. Maybe if they had those things, they wouldn’t resort to moral bankruptcy.”

Rex’s eyes ranged around the room at the slow exodus of press filing out toward the stage. “I believe that too. I just think the way to achieve that is through free enterprise and to keep the number of government fingers in the pie to a minimum.”

“But that’s part of how the government regulates, is by putting its fingers in in the pie. [MALE CANDIDATE] says he wants to make America great again, but you can’t do that in isolation. Look at either Roosevelt. They made us great by turning our eyes outward and being global.”

“There’s no reason you can’t be global and focus on domestic policy first. Besides, [FEMALE CANDIDATE] doesn’t exactly embody the values of a Roosevelt either. She’s more like a female Nixon, without the anti-Communist ferocity that made him a kind of ant-hero for the generation.”

Jenna put on a shocked expression, then shrugged and let it drop. “Granted,” she shrugged. “Still, if [FEMALE CANDIDATE] is Nixon, then [MALE CANDIDATE] is an even more misguided Johnson, blaming foreigners for all our problems, and claiming to want to help minorities while secretly—or not so secretly—hating them.”

Rex shrugged, looking both ashamed and resigned. A new voice broke into the room, blaring over the room’s PA system. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Republican nominee for president, Mr. [MALE CANDIDATE] and the Democratic nominee, Mrs. [FEMALE CANDIDATE]” and the applause rung out.

“Shit,” both of them said simultaneously.

The room’s television flickered from a presidential seal to the two candidates speaking to a plump and pretty black woman, asking about integrity. Rex looked around the room. They were completely alone. “Well, I guess we’ll see everything they do from here,” Rex said. “Both candidates are on the screen.” Jenna nodded, looked around awkwardly, then sad down cross-legged on the floor. Rex couldn’t help but notice the interesting things it did to her skirt before sitting beside her.

[FEMALE CANDIDATE] tumbled into a cacophony that contained a lot of buzzwords, but didn’t really answer the question. Rex thought of a cutting remark, but when he looked over at her, he saw the flush in her cheeks and thought better of it.

They continued to watch. Words flew. When [MALE CANDIDATE] entered into a litany of poorly defined accusations, Rex looked at Jenna. “Sorry.”

Jenna looked sympathetic. “Not your fault. You support this guy?” She asked as with a genuine look of curiosity.
Rex shrugged. “I support what I think the end result of his presidency will be. Do I want him to be our king? No. Do I want his ideas to come true? No. I pray to God that Congress stops him from becoming a dictator and tempers his weirdness into something sound. What about you? What are you looking for when you support [FEMALE CANDIDATE] so fiercely?”

She looked into his cool, ice-blue eyes. “A better country. I love America.”

Some beautiful balloon blew up inside him. Seemingly involuntarily, he leaned in and kissed her. She blinked in surprise, grabbed both of his biceps—and he did have biceps under that off-the-rack suit—and kissed him back.

Both of them scrambled to their knees, fingers scrabbling at each other’s buttons. Shoulders gyrated. Jackets came off and were thrown unceremoniously to the floor.

Her lips, plump and glossy, opened to invite his tongue. He sought her mouth, warm, wet. They parted from each other with a soft smack, backed away from each other and then nearly dove to the floor to embrace each other once again.

Rex’s strong hands found the bow of her hips, relished the soft skin there, then reached around and cupped a handful of her ass in each palm.

She ran meticulously manicured nails over his chest, down the muscles of his flat stomach and found the hard lump in his boxers. She fumbled with the flap in front until his swollen warmth was in her hands.

He moaned at the pressure, squeezed her harder. She moaned unto his open mouth then cocked her head to the side to sink her teeth into the soft skin at the base of his neck.

[MALE CANDIDATE]’s bluster, [FEMALE CANDIDATE]’s shrill dismissal, they both faded into a non-important drone from the televisions.

Nips of pleasure, groans of ecstasy triumphed over hate speech and lies.

Frantic whispers of, “You’re so fucking sexy,” and “Yes, oh fuck, please,” may have been the only genuine and uncalculated words spoken over the course of the entire evening.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/56prdl/mf_vanilla_steamy_makeout_at_the_debate