Electing For her Curves

Nothing stays the same in this day and age, but I feel for my dad whose life has always been Mayor of little old Woods End. A position he’s filled and cherished every day since before I was even born.

I sigh, mustering some enthusiasm, and trot over to him, taking his flier from his hand so it won’t crease, and put it back with the others before pecking his cheek as he stares out the window.

“Anyone would think you were worried about a little competition, Mayor Newland,” I announce formally as I move in front of him and adjust his tie, smooth out his lapel before pecking his cheek again.

“I… I don’t know what you mean,” he blushes, looking at his feet, a tremor in his hands as I take them in my own.

“It’ll be alright, dad. I just know it will,” I tell him.

“Promise?” he asks me, nearly gulping a breath, sounding like a child himself.

“Positive,” I chime. Although I don’t know if my idea of alright is aligned with my dad’s anymore.

I sure hope it does work out okay for him though.

Without his position as Mayor, I don’t know what he’d do.

I don’t know what I’d do either.

But at the same time, I feel the only important thing in my life suddenly is seeing James again.

I need to see him. I need to have his hands on me again.

The office phone rings and I move over to it and answer, almost relieved at the break in my latest obsessive fantasy, which I can feel working its way through my veins like the effect of the man himself.

“James Silverthorn,” I say absently once I pick up the phone, saying the only thing that’s on my mind.

“How did you guess?” The deep, familiar voice on the other end says cheerfully.

“James,” I almost squeal, keeping my voice to a sudden whisper as I sit down at my own desk, feeling weak in the knees all over again as I double-check my dad hasn’t heard me.

He hasn’t. He’s slumped his shoulders and gone into his own office, closing the door loudly behind him.

“I need to see you again, Krystal,” James says firmly. Not asking, telling me what I already know. What I already feel deep inside myself.

I feel my breath shiver, and twirling the phone’s cord in my fingers I wonder just how long it’ll be before I’m throwing myself in front of him, hitching my skirt up above my dripping pussy and begging him to take me like I know I need him to.

“Krystal?” he finally asks, bringing me back down to earth with one word, but it’s his tone of voice that does it for me.

“I said I need to see you again… Right away,” he adds before making a low sound of his own and the line goes dead.

My mind races, suddenly wondering if he’s hurt or sick. If something tribble’s happened and he has no one else to call.

But I know.

Deep down, or rather, deep inside.

I know why.

There’ll be hell to pay if I slip out, with so much to organize before tomorrow, but I can’t help it.

James has called me and I have to go to him.

I simply must.

Whatever the consequences.

Chapter Four

James

I thought I’d be able to wait.

Thought I’d manage things a little better once she left, but watching Krystal leave is so unreal. So unnatural.

It goes against every instinct I have for her, even if she is just going home with her dad.

It feels wrong.

I’ve got a full day of planned events, meetings, and interviews to deal with myself.

But somehow none of it matters anymore.

I only want Krystal, she’s the reason I’m here after all.

The whole running for Mayor thing though? That’s not something that even makes me blink when I think about it.

But it’s my access to her. It’s the whole reason I came here and the same reason I nearly came in my own fucking pants just now.

That’s how potent her effect is on me.

I growl loudly, pacing for a bit before settling down at my desk, pushing aside the schedule with red underlined appointments and phone calls I need to make.

I don’t want to, not right now.

I can’t.

Drumming my thick fingers on the green leather of the desktop, I feel my jaw tighten and relax in time with my leg which is doing double time as it punches out its own impatience on the floor as it shakes.

Before I know it, I’ve dialed the number written on one of the boxes, praying it’s hers, when she does pick up, I practically order her to come right back here.

To me, where she belongs.

I don’t even have a reasonable excuse or story this time.

I just tell her I need to see her and hang up, watching the driveway straight away, as if she’ll suddenly be there.