GITJ Post 303: The Pink Wave, p1

Okay, first off, I am not going to tell you how I voted. I don’t even really want you knowing what state I’m from. No, I’m not from California, where a reality TV star had surged into politics, or Texas, where a dental hygienist with a massive rack was looking to unseat the long-time male incumbent and ride the new wave of female pride into office. Shit like that was apparently happening all over the place. But I can tell you that I did vote and that we here in my midwestern district also had choices from both traditional parties and the New Women’s Party, all up and down the ballot. From U.S. President to City Comptroller, every office had someone from the NWP looking to unseat the incumbent. Or, in some cases, the incumbent had switched parties and was running under their new flag, with a new platform. Women, all of them, of course.

I hadn’t paid too much attention to polls - they don’t know what they’re talking about, most of the time - but I did know that this new female-led third party actually kinda sorta sounded like the real deal, and might shake things up a bit, at least locally. The girls at the office were all certainly pushing for their candidates, including Maura Weisman, a gal from our state that women wanted to send to Washington, to Congress. Olivia was working with her as a consultant, my ex-wife Sheryl had become involved in the campaign, and I do have to admit I checked the box for her. I mean, I did feel a little bit of loyalty, still, to Sheryl. And Maura, at the last press conference I’d flipped though on my new TV, cut a striking profile in a blouse. It actually gave me a little submissive thrill, checking her box, knowing I was doing it for the tits and maybe helping put them in power. Maura, Olivia, Sheryl. Tits.

I had wanted to vote during my lunch break, which Olivia had now set as one o’clock. She’d done that, been slowly changing policies and schedules; even though we hadn’t seen her at the office in a while, her influence was being felt. So now I ate at a set time, when she told me to. It rankled me a bit, yes, but there were bigger things to worry about, I guess.

Whatever the case, I’d planned to run out quickly during the break to the middle school where they’d set up the polls. It was close, just a ten minute walk, and I figured I’d be able to get out and back in time for my first patient of that Tuesday afternoon. But dammit if my stomach didn’t start acting up again just a few hundred yards out, and I had to turn around. Weird. What was it? Anxiety, from being away from a familiar place? That wasn’t like me. Anyway, seeing me return, the girls fawned over me a bit until I (quickly) recovered and they promised they’d drive me to vote later, after clinics were done. Then they’d be taking me out to watch the election results at a new bar down on Haverford Street - and, no, haha they laughed playfully…I didn’t have a choice. Melissa had insisted. I thought back on yesterday, the Monday after the painting escapade. There was the handjob she gave me while I sat suspended in the air on her thigh in her office, and then the one before she sent me up to bed. It made me realize I hadn’t jerked off all day today and I could tell. I was trying to hold on, for some reason, hold out. But it would be nice to, uh, see her again, today. If she was going out for the night, and they’d dropped me an invitation…

Okay by me, I guess..!

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