Obedient Senator 2

The senator’s office smells like leather and guilt when she arrives. Goddess Nadia White, brunette, sharp suit, no patience. She shuts the door, drops the act. Broadway’s already on his knees, suit pants around his ankles, cock exposed and circumcised. She circles him once, then slaps his ass hard enough to sting through the flesh. He flinches. She laughs. He’s a disgrace in pinstripes, and she tells him so while her palm marks him again and again. Each crack reminds him what the voters don’t know. When her skirt rides up, his tongue knows the drill. He buries his face between her cheeks, breathing sweat and heat, licking where she tells him. She pushes back, makes sure he tastes every inch. “Pathetic,” she spits. “Selling secrets with your tongue up my ass.” She plants a heel on the desk, shoves her foot against his mouth. Toes press past his lips. He sucks like it’s oxygen. She keeps talking, voice low, vicious. Tells him his career’s a joke, that a real man wouldn’t be gagging on dirty toes in a taxpayer-funded building. Arm raised, she drags his mouth to her pit next. The scent’s sharp, human. He drags his tongue through the damp hair, eyes glassy. Somewhere between shame and need, his cock twitches. She lowers onto his face, smothering him with the same ass he just worshipped. He can’t breathe without her deciding he’s worth the air. Between her cheeks, every secret he carries feels heavier. When she lifts, she’s already counting the money she’ll make from what he whispers next. He knows it too. Still, he leans in, ready to give it all away again for the next taste.