Chapter 5

I’m ready to beg. Literally get down on my hands and knees and beg her to have sex with me.

It’s 20 DAKEF. Tomorrow’s Election Day for crying out loud. I’ve now spent three presidential campaigns wanting to sleep with Donna and haven’t been successful even once! What the hell’s wrong with me?

Two nights ago was a complete disaster. Even worse than the key fiasco if that’s at all possible. It took all day yesterday to recover before I could even attempt to bring the woo again. Donna picturing me jerking off, the vomit in the elevator, the congressman interrupting… yeah, a night dreams are made of.

I’ll give us this. We tried to work through it. Awkward as hell or not, we were going to have sex if it killed us.

We got to my room out of breath but thankfully no longer focused on my ‘practicing alone’ comment. There was no mini-bar, so there was really nothing to do but get to it, yet we stood there awkwardly on opposite sides of the room for a good minute or two trying to make small talk. I finally used the lame excuse of checking out the view from my window to get us back in the same proximity, and after that things went ok for a while.

Until Donna’s breasts…

We were kissing. And I mean kissing. Teeth, tongue, roaming hands… the whole nine yards. We were both still fully clothed, but I was ready to change that. I had her jacket off and was unbuttoning her shirt while completely devouring her neck. Her long, gorgeous, pale, statuesque neck that I’ve dreamt of kissing for nine long, slow, painful years. I pushed the shirt off her shoulders as I moved the kissing back to her mouth. And let me just tell you, this woman can kiss. I think it’s the lips; they’re so pouty. They were made to be sucked into my mouth, I swear.

So, we were kissing and the shirt was gone and my hands were roaming, and then I bumped into a breast and something happened. Some sort of ‘she’s your assistant’ reflex I’d conditioned myself to have years ago kicked in and I pulled my hands off her like I was playing a game of hot potato.

Which was precisely when she stopped kissing back. She pulled her head away and looked up at me like I was a lunatic stalker who was going to kill her and stash her body under the bed.

And then I said perhaps the lamest, stupidest, most childish thing I’ve ever said in my adult life. “You have breasts.” At least I said it quietly.

You can probably picture her eyes widening at that point.  If not, believe me when I tell you they did. And then, as if to rub salt into my wound, she laughed.

“You choose now to laugh at me?”

“I’m sorry, but… you didn’t think I’d have breasts?” she got out between the laughing.

“No! I mean yeah… but…” I flopped down onto the bed. “They’re right there!” I squeaked. “Where I can see them!”

She moved in between my legs as I sat on the bed, which put them right at eye level. “And this is bad?”

I shook my head, staring at them. “Not bad. Just… different.”

She reached down and took my hands, sliding them up her stomach and around her back to the clasp of her bra. Which was very, very sexy. “You’ve never gotten a glimpse?”

A ghost of a smirk played on my lips but I kept my eyes glued to the breasts. “The occasional dress might have been hard to look away from.”

“I noticed,” she whispered, leaning down and kissing me slowly while I undid the clasp and pulled her bra off.

When she stood back up, I sat there kind of mesmerized. “There they are,” I whispered.

She chuckled again, making them jiggle and me groan. “Yep. There they are.”

So I did the only thing a man can do in that situation. I touched them. Donna’s breasts. I had my hands on Donna’s breasts. Turns out there are perks to not having her as my assistant after all. All this time, I’ve been thinking there was no up side to it.

And they were so close to my mouth. So, so close. But to lean in and kiss them I had to move my hands, and that took a good little while to do. And when I did move them, letting them slide down her sides to rest on her fabulous hips, I leaned forward and…

There was a knock on the fucking door!

We immediately froze, both of our heads snapping to the door. ‘Just stay still, I thought to myself. ‘They’ll go away if you just stay still and quiet.’

“Josh, you still up?” The congressman. Bastard.

At that, Donna took her hands off my shoulders and moved herself and her breasts away from me, reaching down and picking her bra up off the floor where I’d dropped it. I looked back at her as she started putting it on and frantically started shaking my head and mouthing the word no.

“Josh,” she said quietly.

“Shh…” I said, trying to pull the bra out of her hands. Yes, it had come to that. Stealing a woman’s clothing so she couldn’t dress.

She shook her and laughed silently at me. “It’s the congressman. You have to get it.”

“He’ll go away,” I whispered harshly, still trying to gain control of the clothing she was picking up off the floor.

Then my cell phone rang, which the congressman surely heard from just outside my door.

“The gig is up,” Donna said, pulling the bra from my hands and putting it on.

I sighed and answered the phone. “Congressman. Sorry. I’m… in the middle of changing clothes.”

I told him I’d meet him in the conference room in five minutes and then hung up and sighed. “I hate my job.”

“You love your job,” she said, buttoning the last of her shirt buttons.

“Not right now I don’t.”

She chuckled and headed for the door. I jumped up and followed her. “You’re leaving? I’ll be right back!”

“In two hours.”

“Or ten minutes.”

“You’ve never had a ten minute meeting with the congressman.”

“I’ve never had this kind of incentive.”

She shook her head and smiled at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“But what if I get done and it’s still early?”

She leaned up and kissed me quickly. “Then call me.” And at that, she opened the door and left, taking her breasts with her.

I didn’t get done until 2:15.

**********

So here I sit, two days later, in a bar with my colleagues who I wish would leave so I could make yet another attempt at sex with Donna. And as I said, I’m ready to beg.  It seems that whereas I once had myself conditioned to not imagine Donna’s breasts, I can now seem to imagine little else. So if begging is what it takes, begging is what it gets.

Lou’s at the bar, getting us all a drink that she’ll no doubt expect me to pay for. But that’s it, one drink. Then I’m coming up with an excuse and I’m getting Donna out of here and naked.

Because like I said, it’s 20 DAKEF. And 20 days is too long. And if 20 days is too long, then you know damn well 8 years, nine months, and twelve days is too long. And that’s how long it’s been. 8 years, nine months, and twelve days of not sleeping with Donna.

That’s enough to drive a man insane.