Electing For her Curves

“Do you know where she went?” I ask, trying not to sound like a man possessed.

They shake their head and disappear over the fence again.

It’s a bitter blow but not too surprising I guess. I wait in my car for as long as I can, hoping she’ll just turn up and crane my neck every time I hear a car come anywhere close by.

It’s not a big town, there can’t be many places she could’ve gone.

I doubt she’s gone to see her dad. Sounds like he’s made his own set of problems with her there and not all to do with me I’m sure.

I cruise around for what must be another hour, maybe more before I start to wonder whether I’ve been duped after all. Maybe Mayor Newland sent her away altogether.

I do laps of the whole town, seeing the same people twice or more after a while, which is enough to convince me she’s either out of town or I just keep missing her.

I drive once more past her place with no success before I head back to my own office, deciding I’ll get ready for the dinner and head back to the Town Hall, despite having no appetite or mood for anything but Krystal anymore.

I can hardly focus on showering and changing, every second my attention isn’t on the driveway I’m sure I can hear her car pull up. A couple of times I swear I can even hear her calling out for me.

The door’s unlocked, she knows I’m here. If she turns up she can join me in the shower.

It’s all I can tell myself to stand still for five minutes until I remember what I wrote on the card with her outfit.

I know she got it, I just know she has.

I told her to come to me wearing that dress tonight, and if my instincts are right then I don’t have a thing to worry about.

I know she’ll come to me. It’s just that James Silverthorn isn’t quite used to waiting when he knows something’s already his.

A simple phone call or just taking it with me on the spot, that’s what I’m used to.

But Krystal’s not an object, she’s not a business or a thing.

She’s the missing part of me, my equal, and I want everything to be perfect between us from now on.

Forever.

Stepping out of the shower I can feel the effect of her again, the heaviness of my arousal bobbing in front of me as I dry off, being careful of how quickly I do that too.

“Soon,” I tell myself, looking down at my twitching member, fully erect now and with a thick line of precome that makes me shudder as I picture using it as lube to press her sweet hole open with before I pleasure her, feeling her coming on my-

“Argh, it’s no use,” I growl, wrapping the towel around myself and clutching both hands to my head in frustration.

It’s official. I can’t think about anything.

I’m done. Fully cooked.

I’m in love with Krystal Newland and I won’t rest until I’ve claimed her as my own.

“I will claim her as my own,” I repeat aloud, looking at myself in the mirror, “Tonight,” I promise myself, feeling at least some relief I can say it aloud, willing it to happen sooner.

Walking out to the car I get my tux from the back seat and realize I don’t have a costume for the ball afterward except for a plain looking eye mask.

I’m not sure what the rules for candidates are, but a man of my size is pretty hard to disguise.

I dress and checking myself in the full length mirror I tell myself I’ve still got it.

I don’t see the younger man anymore, the one I was maybe at Krystal’s age, but a wiser and wealthier man today.

The few grays at my temple catch the light and I find myself thinking about dying them before I laugh out loud.

“I’ll see what Krystal says,” I tell the man I the mirror, “There’s no time to go dying your hair now anyway.”

It feels strange getting ready without her here, knowing she probably won’t even be at the dinner either. But I know she’ll get into the ball somehow.

I told her to, and I’m already counting the minutes, the seconds until I see her again.

Until I can wrap my arms around her curves and pull her close, whispering in her ear everything I plan to do to her once that dress comes off.

The drive back to the Town Hall is a blur, so is being shown to my seat.

A shitty seat, I must admit. I’ve been moved from the main table with the Mayor and other candidates, slightly to the left and in a dark corner near the restrooms.

When the Mayor changes seating arrangements to send a message, he does a fine job of being quietly upfront about it.