I keep having this... I don't know, dream? Fantasy? Kind of just a reoccurring train of thought, though it is sexual.
I'm at a bar, off strip in Vegas, on my second glass of Malbec, enjoying some tuna tartare. I'm in a good mood, mellow, really digging the fish that night. Some Dem big shots are in town that night for a fundraiser at a ritzy restaurant a few blocks away that must have wrapped up an hour or so ago. I'm overhearing bits and pieces of conversations between what must be congressional aides, and I catch a glimpse of one guy who I know is a back bench member of the Dem caucus, but I can't remember his name. My dick stirs a bit as I wonder if AOC might show up.
Then I look over to my right, and I can't believe what I see. Three seats down from me is Nancy Pelosi. She's swirling the cherry, which is impaled on one of those plastic swords, around the bottom of a 3/4 empty Manhattan while talking on her phone. "Goddamn you, Chuck!" she swears into the phone and angrily hangs up. She drinks the rest of her Manhattan in one quick gulp.
"The Senate is so useless," I say to her.
She looks over at me, eyes kind of wide, surprised that I'm talking to her. Then she gives a sultry smile as she looks me over, and she bites the maraschino cherry off the end of the little sword, holding it between her teeth for a hot half second before she takes it into her mouth. "Schumer has no fucking balls," she says after swallowing it down.
"Buy you another one of those?" I nod to her empty glass.
She cocks an eyebrow at me. Who does this 5'5" pinoy think he is? But she smiles again. "Only if you're having one."
I hail the bartender. He knows me. We were on icy terms for a bit last year after I fell off the bar stool 5 times in one night, but I've been tipping well since then to make up for it. "Malbec for me. And another Manhattan..." I glance over to Nancy, "for the lady here."
"Make that a whiskey and grenadine instead," she says to the bartender. She gives me a playful look, "After that phone call, the last thing I want is another shitty New Yorker."
We both laugh, and I move over to the seat next to her. "So, whiskey and grenadine..." I say as our drinks arrive.
Nancy laughs. "Sometimes I like to pretend I'm drinking the freshly squeezed blood of Tea Party Congressmen."
"Do you often fantasize about draining men dry?" As the words leave my mouth I can't believe I just uttered them. But she goes along with it. "There's not much to drain from those pasty, Riesling-drinking little guppies. Not one spine between them." She looks approvingly at my Malbec.
"Sounds like you need men in your life who can stand upright," I joke. She puts her hand on my leg, and her eyes widen as she feels my turgid member snaking down my pants leg. "Well it doesn't seem like you have a problem with that..."
We tear each other's clothes off in the limousine. She unzips my pants, pulls them down slightly, and sighs with pleasure as my rod springs into the open air. "Nice to finally talk to a man with balls," she says as she reaches down my boxers and grips me by the jewels. She effortlessly sucks my 5.5 inches into her mouth. Her proficiency is unreal. In less than a minute I feel like I'm about to blow. "Oh Nancy," I moan. "Nancy!"
"Don't you dare!" She sits up and pulls her panties down under her dress. "Inside me," she says. "That's the only place you're allowed to finish."
I groan with pleasure as I slide into her. She feels like a heavenly cloud, and even with her spanx undone, she's got the hottest little body I've felt in days. I could finish soon, but if I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right. I steel myself and give her the best fucking she's had since the 60's. She climaxes three times before I bust, erupting more vitality into her than is contained in the entire Tea Party caucus.
"Oh god, that was incredible," she exclaims. Her hair is rainy with sweat, and her breasts are breathless in the light of the moon roof. "What's your name anyway?"
"Dmitri," I tell her.
"Dmitri?" She cocks an eyebrow at me. "Dmitri what?"
"...Shostakovich."
"Like the composer? His fifth symphony is the most sublime thing. I saw Lorin Maazel conduct it in Cleveland in 83."
I'm in love. I'm in love with a woman named Nancy.
