Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
I arrived in Washington at the beginning of December. I guess one advantage of already being itinerate is that it does not take much effort to move. One two-day cross-country drive from Texas to DC in a U-Haul van carrying my meagre possessions was all it took. I found a cheap and decidedly crappy basement apartment on U Street and started work the day after I arrived.
In many ways working in Congress is just like any other job. It is an office full of people with their own histories all working together. However, unlike any other job, you also might be told to write an amendment to a banking bill — which I was — despite my absolute lack of experience in anything related to banking bills, apart from a general handle of legislation as a concept.
I was put in the charge of the Congressman’s longest serving staffer — his fat, grizzled and foul-mouthed chief of staff Russell. Russell was a dozen Washington stereotypes rolled into one ball of sweat and bourbon fumes. His Chicago accent could often be heard from outside in the corridor screaming obscenities at whichever poor sod had been so unlucky to cross his path. Where the Congressman was the model of cross-the-aisle diplomacy while maintaining his principles, Russell was as flaming one-eyed partisan as you might ever meet. It did not take more than an hour before he had told me the President-elect — whom I had spent the last year and a half of my life trying somewhat pointlessly to win Texas for — was a, and I quote, “Namby-pamby weakling who’d sell out his own mother if he thought it would win him Ohio.”
Frankly, nobody outside the office and most of the people in it — who called him not quite to his face, but certainly to his side, The Bastard — could understand why the Congressman kept him around. I think most people assumed it was nostalgia — the two of them had gone to the University of Chicago together — but I was not convinced as the Stephen Kearny I knew did not tolerate underperformance.
I kept my head down and observed, and in the process discovered two important things. Firstly, it was pretty easy to get Russell’s respect if you could show him that you could get results, take his abuse in your stride and were willing to blame the Republicans for anything. I had no problem with any of these things, so I quickly became his go-to guy. With Russell’s respect also came a type of fierce loyalty — one that was not entirely rational. I first noticed it when I was arguing with one of the other legislative assistants about the wording of the terms of reference for a committee inquiry into financial advice regulation. We had reached an impasse and took it to Russell for his decision. Without even reading the options Russell simply said to the other LA “We’re doing what Alex says. He’s smarter than you.” I ran away happy that I had won, but a little disconcerted that his decision was made entirely on trust.
The second thing that I learned from observation related to Russell’s loyalty. The real reason that the Congressman put up with his bad behaviour was that he gave Russell everything that he really cared about to work on because he knew Russell would do everything within his power to get it done. I initially kaçak bahis thought it was just in a professional capacity, but after a while, I realised that Russell also managed a lot of the Congressman’s personal affairs as well. As Russell’s new right-hand man — a position that I am assured by several people in the office could not have been said to exist at any time in the past — a lot of this low-profile, but of high importance to the Congressman work was coming my way. It started off with things like putting the squeeze on a wavering committee member to support a consumer protection provision. However, I knew I had gone full Sopranos when I was sent out to make sure a car dealer fixed the Congressman’s seventy-three-year-old neighbour’s new Honda Fit which had a dodgy starter motor.
I tell you this all to give you context, as it was Russell who began to introduce me to two of the key themes of this story: access and excess. I will start with Russell’s personal brand of excess as it was the first of any great note I experienced in Washington — but certainly not the last.
I had survived for the first six or so months in Washington and Congress had just broken from a ten-day recess. The Congressman had gone back to Texas to do town halls organised by his district office and I was looking forward to a quiet weekend. On Saturday morning, I was woken by my phone ringing. I looked at the display to discover — to my horror — that it was Russell calling me. I assumed something had gone horribly wrong, so I hit receive and waited for the string of expletives that would start the conversation, but instead, I was greeted with “Get up. I’m taking you to my country club. Do you own a collared shirt?”
I was so taken aback I focused on the one part of this statement I could process and replied “Of course I do. I wear one to work every day.”
Russell made an exasperated noise like a seal clearing its nose and said “Not that kind of fucking collared shirt. You know what I mean…a what’s it called…a fucking polo shirt.”
Still not completely understanding what was going on, I replied “Yeah I’ve got one.”
Russell snapped back “Good. Put it on. I’ll pick you up in ten minutes” then hung up.
Ten minutes turned out to be four minutes, which I discovered when a car’s horn started blaring outside my door. I ran outside to find Russell sitting in a silver Maserati convertible. I jumped into the passenger’s seat and he was off at top speed before I could even get my seatbelt on.
Over the howl of the wind, Russell yelled “Do you know how to play golf?”
I yelled back “Not really” as we careened out of DC into Virginia.
Russell cracked into a grin and yelled back “Good. I might beat someone for once.”
We finished the rest of the highspeed drive in relative silence — that is from us, the wind noise was still furious. Russell screeched through the gates of a very expensive-looking club and came to a stop over two parking spots. He then pulled a set of golf clubs out of the trunk and threw his keys at the head of a shocked-looking valet, before stalking off towards the clubhouse. I followed in his wake and was swiftly directed to the bedava bahis pro shop where I was kitted out with a pair of golf shoes and some clubs. When I emerged, I found Russell sitting in an electric cart looking impatient. My bum had only just hit the seat when we were off, not as fast as the Maserati, but somehow more alarmingly.
Playing golf with Russell turned out to be just like doing anything else with him: chaotic and full of swearing. He did not seem to care in the slightest about the success of his shots. He would just pull up next to the ball, grab the closest club to hand, try to hit it as hard as he could and repeat. The result was, that in three hours of play and despite my golf experience being limited to the mini variety, I ended up only four shots behind him — although that was twenty-four over. When we were done, he gave me an almighty wack on the back and said “Good fun eh kid? Now let’s go get some lunch. It’s the only reason I bother coming. Well, one of the reasons. We’ll do the other one later.”
The restaurant in the clubhouse turned out to be quite extraordinary. When we had both had our fill, along with a few beers, Russell stood up abruptly and said “Alright. Time for a steam. Good for getting the toxins out.”
I thought to myself that it would need to be pretty good steam to get all the toxins out of Russell as I followed him downstairs to a desk where a very pretty concierge was standing. Russell called out warmly “Antonia my darling. How the hell are you?”
The girl, Antonia, smiled warmly and replied “I’m great Mr O’Connor. The usual I assume? Get yourself comfortable and Dawn will be along to look after you.”
Russell took the towel that Antonia was offering him, then indicated to me and said “I’ve got young Alex with me today. Can you sort him out as well?”
Antonia frowned in thought and said, “It’s only Dawn and me on today, so she can do you both or I can look after one of you, although it’s a much more inferior product.”
Russell handed me a towel as well and said to Antonia “Don’t sell yourself short sweetie. Anyway, he’s so green he wouldn’t know the difference.”
I followed Russell into the changeroom where he instantly started stripping off. I did the same and wrapped the towel around my waist. Russell just kept his in his hand and walked bare arse naked through another door and into a corridor of steam rooms and saunas. He selected a steam room, indicated for me to sit, then adjusted the heat and joined me on the bench. Russell was all the patchy, flabby, pale flesh I had imagined. I was trying not to look, but it was hard in the small room.
After a few minutes of silence, I asked “So are we getting massages?”
Russell chuckled and slapped a clammy hand on my shoulder as he said “Oh no my boy. Something much better.” At that moment, there was a knock on the door and he said “Here we go,” then called out “Come in.”
The door swung open and a tall, skinny blond dressed in the white polo shirt and black shorts uniform of the club stepped inside. Russell called out affectionately “Dawn darling. How are you?”
Dawn smiled at him and replied “I’m good Mr O’Connor,” and then pulled kazandıran bahis siteleri her shirt up over her head. I stared openly as a pair of A-cup breasts with light pink nipples came into view. Dawn said to me “Antonia will be down in a second” and then turned her attention back to Russell and continued “But we might as well get going.”
Dawn’s shorts quickly joined her top on the shelf next to the door, giving us both a good view of her skinny backside, narrow thighs and blond pubic hair trimmed to her bikini line, before she lay a towel down in front of Russell and dropped to her knees. I knew where this was going, but I still stared in amazement as Dawn lowered her head and took Russell’s semi-hard cock into her mouth. Before long she was merrily bobbing away while Russell lay back with his eyes closed.
I was snapped back from my voyeurism by the sound of the door opening again. I looked up to find Antonia stepping inside. She said, “Oh I see you’ve already gotten started.” Then she too pulled her shirt over her head and dropped her pants. I must admit, Antonia was much more my type than Dawn. She was tall with mid-length brunette hair, nice and curvy with a round bum and perky C-cup breasts topped with brown nipples. Her pussy was shaved clean and I could see the ends of her inner labia poking out as she approached me and joined her colleague on her knees on the floor. I was not sure what was happening, but Antonia certainly did. She gripped my rock-hard cock and started kissing it.
Russell looked down casually to where Antonia’s fingers were barely touching around my shaft and said “Good thing you’re not that thick in the head boy” before giving me an approving nod.
Antonia did not seem to have any concerns about my thicker-than-average cock because pretty soon she was bobbing away in my lap like Dawn was for Russell. Absurdly I thought ‘I wonder what Dawn does that’s so special. If she’s better than Antonia she must be incredible.’
Perhaps because my cock had not been anywhere near a person who was not my own hand since election night it did not take me long for me to get to the edge. Antonia must have sensed it because she backed off enough to stop me from blowing. Without warning Russell grabbed hold of the back of Dawn’s head and lifted his hips off the bench as he grunted. Dawn held on like a champion in my opinion.
Antonia took that as her cue to finish me off. She upped the pressure and pretty soon she too was swallowing a load of cum. With the job done, both girls pulled their clothes back on and waved goodbye as they left the steam room. Russell sighed contentedly and said “Well there you have it. Good way to spend a Saturday eh?”
He stood and stretched — a horrible sight I will never forget — and made his way back to the changing room. We showered and redressed, then headed back past the desk where Antonia was handing a towel to the Republican Senate whip. As we turned the corner, I heard her say “Dawn will be right with you.”
As we drove out of the gate of the club, I asked Russell “How much do I owe you for this?”
He just laughed and said “All in the fees boy.” I knew not to ask any more questions at that point.
I think the whole exercise was really a test for me. He was finding out if I was able to handle some of the darker parts of working in Washington. It was from there that I started receiving some of the more dubious assignments that colour my real introduction to the swamp.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
