There’s a knock on the door. Super loud and distracting from the excellent slice of head I’m getting.

“Not now!”

He stops mid-blow. Lips suction-cupped around my girthy shaft and mouth sunken in, displaying those excellent cheek bones. He gives me a look. Puppy dog eyes staring at me like I’d just sent him to bed without his supper.

“Keep going.”

He resumes the oral rhythm. Good and nasty.

This time it’s a shout, instead of a knock. “But congressman, it’s urgent!”

“Goddammit.” I enjoy one more slurp and tell the best little cocksucker in the Beltway to wait a second.

Just a second.

Still hard, I zip up and crank open the door. My secretary is standing there with a dozen or so soccer moms. They were wearing shirts emblazoned with slogans such as ‘guns kill’ and ‘guns don’t die, people do.’ Some had signs showing a pistol with a big red x through it.

Fucking constituents.

“Congressman Burke,” one of them started. “We want to talk ─”

“Shirley, get the capitol police in here, pronto! I’m busy!” I slammed the door behind me so damn hard, almost knocked over the framed picture of the gipper on horseback.

“Where were we?”

The happiest little cocksucker smiles. “So we have a deal, then?”

“Of course, school children have a constitutional right to bear arms, same as anyone,” I say. “Put me down for yes. Now where were we?”

He smiles and gets back to work.

Hank Shepherd

Hank Shepherd

Hank Shepherd is just your run-of-the-mill gay, closeted Chicago blogger who likes to spin yarns.
Hank Shepherd

Latest posts by Hank Shepherd (see all)