A voter’s view

“You look gay in that suit. Do you like to suck cock Congressman?” I asked him in a low tone. 

He didn’t look “gay” in his suit, I just wanted to watch the effect it had on him and smirked as his cheeks reddened. He sheepishly shook his head from side to side.

This made me smile, seeing this powerful man literally blushing at my words.

This was the third time I’d seen him but the first that we were really alone. Each time we met it was at a hotel and we started off in a Best Western and had slowly been upgrading to the Hilton where we now were. Somebody was getting smitten with this Mistress. I went to check my phone for texts as I often do when nervous but realized that I had left it in the car per his arrangement. 

This is the second Congressperson I’ve had the opportunity to lend my skills to.

The other was an older gentleman, divorced, very strict on what the rules were between us. I only saw him to amuse myself. He was now trying to find a wife but had said he wanted me to meet one of his friends…to “help” him in the same way I had helped him. I didn’t realize I was helping him. We never did anything physical in the entire 2 years we knew each other. In fact, every time we met, it felt more like a Dr. Phil session than a Mistress session but he was nice enough to take me to lunch and he was very intelligent, I never left a meeting with him without learning something new.

When he set me up with this friend of his, I had no idea it’d be another Congressman, especially not such a handsome one. Upon our first meeting he tried to appear aggressive, decisive, and in charge. I let him speak his rules for me:

1. No cameras or phones whenever we met
2. No exchange of contact info
3. Absolutely, no sex

When he was finished I said I had no problem but that I had rules of my own as well:

1. Always refer to me as Mistress
2. Always be respectful (door holding, chair pulling, etc)
3. Never speak without permission

He seemed to happily oblige these rules until he realized asking permission to speak would be a pain when he wanted to speak freely. I loved the limitation this put on him. I could see the frustration in his eyes but also the excitement when I said “Permission granted”. We had a cat and mouse game of intellects the first two meetings we met up. We bantered about everything, mostly politics and I honestly told him that I’d never vote for him…ever and that his views disgusted me.

He called me a hippy, I called him a fascist pig, it was the beginning of us getting to know each other.

He had found out I had a blog after the last meeting and re-read every entry I had written. I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or worried.

He called me up and said, “Can you meet today at 3pm? I just finished reading your blog.”

We usually had a 24 hour notice rule, we could only meet with 24 hour notice to each other. Upon arriving at the hotel, usually a bodyguard of sorts comes to get me and brings me to whatever room he is in, then proceeds to stand guard inside the room.

It was different this time.

The man in black led me to the room and then just opened the door for me and stayed outside. When I walked in, more like strutted as I was wearing a pair of my favorite black boots (hey, I wanted to look good if he was giving me a goodbye).

The Congressman was standing by the bed and said “Lock the door please.”

I turned to lock the door and when I turned around he was on his knees. “I want you to control me,” he said calmly from the ground.

His eyes stared at me, almost pleading. “Please Mistress, I want you to control me,” he now begged.

Have I mentioned how fucking sexy I think begging is?

I licked my lips slowly and placed my hand on his soft hair and shoved his head down so his eyes now faced the floor. I walked slowly around him in a circle to compose myself. “Why?” I asked quizzically.

“Because, I need the kind of control that you can offer Miss,” he responded.

It was like he knew all the right things to say to me that day. “Why now?” I asked sternly. “I read your blog…and it made me…it made me want you. More than I already did. I don’t want to play tough with you, I just want you to control me. I want to give myself to you.” He said this last part with quickened breath.

I could feel his arousal seeping through his pores. “You look gay in that suit. Do you like to suck cock Congressman?” I asked him in a low tone.

He shook his head back and forth. I grabbed a handful of his hair and brought him up from his knees.

“Strip” I commanded. “Everything?” he asked wide-eyed. “Strip until I say stop,” I said to him.

A nervous look ran across his face and he began to unbuckle his belt slower than humanly possible. I took the buckle in my own hands and successfully yanked the belt from around his entire waist in one fell swoop.

Mental high five!

I pulled him closer by his belt loop and just as I placed my fingers on his zipper, there was a knock on the door.

“Congressman, we have to depart if you are to make your 4:30 meeting,” was said muffled but still clear enough to decipher through the door.

I looked at him, somewhat pissed we had to wrap up what was promising to be a tantalizing session. I grabbed him by the back of his neck, shoved his mouth to mine, stuck my tongue down his throat, bit his lip and then walked out the door without any words.

Once in my car, I let out a big breath of air.

Fuck, that was hot.

I really just wanted to say I’d kissed a Congressman…but now I can say I have one’s belt too.