The Mayor And Her Assistant [FF]

I sat on my desk and rubbed my eyes, it still being early in the day. At ten o’clock, the work day had only just begun. Yet I was already exhausted. Yesterday I had worked another late day in a long series of late days. Scratch that. A late day in a political term of late days.

Last week was New Year’s, which meant I was officially on the fifth and final year of my first term as mayor. Running in 20XX, I had won in a landslide as a Democrat candidate. The first one in 45 years, in fact. And I couldn’t be prouder.

See, I was what most people would call a ‘townie’. Born and raised in Fairfield, I only left the town when needed, despite having plenty of opportunities to leave. Hell, right after graduating from the community college here I was offered a scholarship at a prestigious academy for being valedictorian. I turned it down in favor of staying here.

Fairfield was a small, old-fashioned town in New England. Most of it’s population are either old Vietnam veterans who don’t know that the USSR collapsed (we have five retirement homes), or new families and couples moving here due to low taxes. Regardless though: I loved the town. I memorized every street and spoke to every one of the 9,000~ citizens. Hell, whenever someone new moves to Fairfield I hand deliver them a gift basket and offer a tour of the town. It’s often declined.

After years of working at a frozen yogurt shop, I decided to get into politics. First joining the town council, I made a ton of bills that passed easily. It’s not hard to pass bills when the only other councilmen are PTSD-stricken men who don’t remember what day it is. After two successful terms there; I ran for mayor.

Honestly: it was surprising that the mayor hadn’t been defeated already. I mean, an 89-year old man who averaged a heart attack a year since ‘89? Yeah, it was an easy election by landslide.

As it turns out though: being a mayor had horrible tolls on me. It wasn’t because of the job: it was because of me. I reorganized every file, digitalized them, personally assisted in construction and plumbing jobs, and much much more. I knew every government employee’s birthday and what they wanted for it. Dinner parties were thrown by me at least once a week.

As you can expect: this hadn’t gone well for my physical or mental health. I averaged 5 hours of sleep: most of it at my desk. In fact, I slept at City Hall so often that I had my own personal key to every door just in case. A real key to the city, if you will. Since my election I had lost 70 pounds, and had permanent bags under my eyes. I was home so little that I had my closet moved to my office.

In terms of mental health, it wasn’t much better. I constantly put work over everything else: part of the reason why my husband had left me. Well, that and the mistress. Mistresses.

Speaking of sex: I hadn’t had it in 2 years. I hadn’t even played with myself or gone on a date since the divorce. Occasionally I felt it, usually when trying to fall asleep, but I was far too busy or tired to take care of that. There was much more to be done than touch myself. I was just putting in a new fountain at the park, due to the Parks & Rec manager being sick. That took priority!

None of my work would be possible without my assistant, Elizabeth Smith. Or Eliza as she goes by. With all the money from the divorce, a friend (I saw them rarely) had told me to hire an assistant. And god did I need one. While a bit fussy (she says I need three meals a day. Crazy), she’s quite literally the most important person in my life. Not in a romantic way, of course. I’m straight.

Speaking of which, she came into the office with a smile as usual. “Good Morning Miss Wilson, here is a cup of coffee.” Putting it on my desk I looked up at her and gave a tired smile.

“Eliza, for the last time you don’t-“ She cut me off before I could say anything, placing a single file on my desk.

“Yes Miss Wilson, I know you want me to call you Sara. For the hundredth time, I will refer to you as Miss Wilson.” Elizabeth had been hired as my secretary as well: the last one I had sadly passed away.

I sighed and nodded, used to her formal nature. Picking up the file I scanned it, looking over it. Just a normal tax-related form. But I looked up at her anxiously, a bit worried. “Did something happen? Where is the rest of my work?”

She sat in front of me, raising an eyebrow. “Ma’am, you did all your work. In fact; despite it only being January 9th you have done all your work for the entire month.”

I responded with a scoff, shaking my head. “No no no, I have to have something. Interviews, evaluations, inspections…?” God I loved inspecting the town.

“Nope! You rescheduled everything and did it all in your first week. The only thing we have today is an employee birthday, though I don’t know why you make me keep track of those…”

I immediately smiled and stood up, moving a stray hair from my head. “To keep morale up, of course! Our employees have to know that they’re appreciated! Who’s birthday is it, Hannah?”

Instead of telling me who’s birthday it is, she gave much worse news that I refused to hear. “Actually ma’am, that brings us to my next point. I have insisted that you take a sick day: I ran it through Human Resources and they wrote up this.”

Out from seemingly nowhere she put a small packet of papers on my desk. Sick day? Ridiculous! As I read through them, I pointed at the data. “Look! My performance is through the roof!”

“Actually ma’am, while that’s true, your condition has worsened. You have missed three of your last doctor appointments, which you really should go to because you’ve lost 75 pounds in two years. You were only at 178. Your not even that tall!”

Before I could continue, she cut me off beforehand. “In addition, you have wore the exact same clothes for the past two days. Your hair is uncombed. Your desk has a permanent indent from your head sleeping there.” That was true, but I was proud about that.

“I just take my job seriously, don’t be ridiculous! Now, let’s celebrate! Who’s birthday: Hannah Martin, I think?” She simply sighed and looked at me worrisomely. “Honey, Hannah Martin hasn’t worked here since you were still married to Evan.”

Evan. His name immediately worsened my mood. I missed him so much. Even if he had cheated on me: I could depend on him. He was a warm body to cuddle and sleep with. God I really miss cuddling.

As she finished speaking, she pointed to the last page of the packet. “And as you can see here, the Human Resources Manager has demanded that you take a minimum of a week off. You have 50 sick days piled up, and he’s making you use some.”

My shoulders sunk at the news. Damnit Amy! After I spent 4 hours looking for your son’s lost hamster, you do this to me! I didn’t even have a choice anymore. I gave a sigh and a short little nod. “…Fine. One week. Just let me finish this up and-“

Continuing her habit of interrupting me she stood up and walked over to me, lightly pulling me behind her. It wasn’t hard with how light I was. “Honey, come on. I’ll drive you home, don’t worry. But first we’ll have a late breakfast: you forgot dinner last night.”

As I got up I saw our reflection in the mirror. God, I did look rough. My usually form-fitting business suits looked baggy on me: you couldn’t blame me, I hadn’t gone shopping since I was fifty pounds heavier. My eyes looked bleak and empty, and my hair was all stringy. Usually it was a beautiful black ponytail, but it just hung unkept now. My usual 30B breasts somehow looked smaller than average.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth was everything a woman would want to look like. Her curly red hair was finely combed, flowing down past her shoulders angelically. Her blouse was form-fitting, which she used to manipulate men for my favor (her idea, not mine). She had wonderful 34DD breasts (drunken over-sharing) that would make even straight girls stare. Not me though, of course.

Having no other options and being to tired to argue, I’m essentially escorted out the building by her. Even my attempts to make small talk with co-workers are cut short as if she’s making sure that I don’t get distracted.

“Here, give me your keys. I can bring your car back later.” After a few seconds of arguing, I give up and hand her the keys. Her hand is surprisingly warm and gentle. Not to mention comforting…I really was tired to get happy from that small touch, huh.

As I got in the car and leaned back against the seat, my exhaustion hit me. When was the last time I had gotten a good, eight hours in bed? Last month? Last year? It gets hard to keep track after awhile.

Elizabeth seemingly noticed how tired I was, so didn’t bother to attempt a conversation. Her car was surprisingly nice, a higher end convertible. To be fair though, she did get two paychecks. And with how much she supports me, she is really due for a raise.

We pulled up at Henry’s Diner, which thankfully served breakfast all day. I walked into the restaurant with Elizabeth close behind, taking a seat. Almost immediately a kind old waitress hustles over to me.

“Good morning Mrs. Mayor! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” In fact, I was here last month with the health inspector. After so many attempts at reminding her I was no longer married, I just let it slide. Dementia does that to people.

“Yes I’m sorry I’ve been so busy! How is Henry?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at me and watched the conversation with interest.

“Oh, he’s alright. Working at the diner has raised his cholesterol a bit too high, but he’s doing great! Healthy as a horse!” We both laughed a little and gave her our orders, as I ordered another coffee. I never even got to drink the one I had…

Elizabeth shakes her head, looking amused. “What? What is it?” She just scoffed and rested her head on her arm, lasering her eyes into me. “Hun, you know about a total stranger’s husband?”

“Well, she’s not a total stranger. I’ve known her my whole life!” When I was a kid, I remember coming her when I skipped school. She always gave me a free piece of toast if I went back. That was a very effective offer.

“Sweetie, you really need to get a life…” She shook her head and chuckled, and I felt a bit insulted. Having to protest, I stuttered back. “I-I have a life! I work, and and I….hold parties!

“Okay: when was the last time you went out of town? Or, hell, pursued a hobby? Gone on a date? Hung out with friends?” I cut her off, not wanting to hear more. “Okay okay I get it, I don’t have a life. I’ve been…..busy.”

“Right: busy. Because it’s not like you give yourself more work, that would be crazy! You know that you can’t hide things from me, right? I literally organize your schedule.” Yeah, that was a pretty fair point.

Not wanting to discuss this anymore I switched the topic, thankful for a distraction. I realized that despite having hired her two years ago, I really didn’t know much about her. Yeah, I was busy, but that wasn’t very kind. So we chatted while eating: and boy was I hungry.

Two plates of waffles later, we paid the bill and left. Having an actual meal was a really nice change of pace: though now with a full stomach, I was sleepier than ever. Thankfully, my assistant seemed to realize this, as she drove us straight home.

“Miss Wilson, I insist that you sleep. I’ll wake you up in time for a late lunch.” Too sleepy to argue, I just nodded and walked inside the house. I went to what used to be the guest room before I had made it mine, and changed into a night gown. If I was going to sleep, I might as well do it right.

Elizabeth came in and eyed the room, confused. She had never been here before: and no wonder was perplexed as to why I slept in a small room when the main bedroom was right down the hall. “That bed doesn’t even have a bedsheet…”

“Nonsense, I don’t need one! We both know that I don’t spend much time here anyways.” Before I could even sit down she came up to me, shaking her head.

“Well, you are going to be sleeping under this roof for the next week. Come on, let’s go to the normal room.” She took my hand and tried to lead me there, but I held my place.

Embarrassed, I blushed softly and let out the truth. Maybe being exhausted made me more open about my feelings. “I-I don’t like sleeping there anymore. It makes me feel alone…”

Without skipping a beat she dragged me there anyways, opening the door and walking inside. The room hadn’t been dusted or entered in at least a year: quite literally a relic of the past. Photos were strewn everywhere, no wonder it made me feel worse. “That’s alright: I can sleep with you.”

As she walked around the room, she placed all the photos down flat so I couldn’t see them. Always able to read my thoughts. My face grew redder as she said that. “No no that’s alright, I’ll manage.”

Knowing that I was just too tired to argue, she just took my hand and led me to the bed. Pulling down the blankets she somehow maneuvered me down into laying there. “Miss Wilson, as your assistant but more importantly friend, I insist you get good sleep. And if sleeping next to someone is part of that, then so be it.”

As Elizabeth laid next to me, my heart gave a little flutter. To be fair: I was pretty needy for some human contact and cuddling. Humans were social creatures, after all. My faithful assistant was somehow well aware of this, as she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me in.

My face was essentially laying right below her neck, and I could feel the heat rising to my face. With my heart racing, I could feel the heat radiating off her body. Not like I was against that. I felt so…cared for. It was a feeling I had been craving, and it seemed like I was finally getting it. “Good night Miss Wilson.”

Already, I could feel myself nodding off in her arms. In my *assistant’s* arms. Hopefully no one would hear of this, because it really wouldn’t help in my re-election. “Good night Eliza…” And with that I nodded off, too tired and comfortable to stay awake any longer.

(Heyyo! I know that this wasn’t very lewd, don’t worry! It’ll get more perverted in the upcoming chapters, buildup is important! Leave a comment with any questions or suggestions are whatever :)

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/j8l4j9/the_mayor_and_her_assistant_ff