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Blake had lost track of how long she'd been standing in the middle of the master bedroom at the mayoral mansion, dressed in nothing but one of Doris's looser fitting T-shirts, waiting for her lover to come home. She glanced at the clock, dismayed to find that less than three minutes had passed since her last peek. Surely the voting public could wait? It was Saturday morning, for God's sake. Surely they could have chosen another day for Doris to open the new hospital wing? Another day on which Blake hadn't woken up in Doris's half empty bed, racked with an insatiable desire which only the mayor herself could fulfill.
Blake could hardly remember a time before the mayor had come into her life. Come being the operative word. They'd had hardly anything to do with each other until that one fateful night, a few weeks ago, when she'd somehow tumbled into the mayor's bed, a dangerous cocktail of martinis, curiosity and sexual frustration swirling around her brain. And from that point on there had been no looking back. Life with Doris was just one glorious orgasm after another, and Blake could not get enough.
Before Doris, Blake had a been a sexual predator. A woman with choices. A wanton sex goddess who wasn't afraid to play dirty and use sex to her advantage, offering it all to the highest bidder. She supposed that she still maintained a certain prowess, in Doris's eyes, at least. But there was very definitely only one bidder left in this game. One bidder for the rights to tangle their hands in her hair and slip their tongue between her readily parted lips. One bidder for the right to push her naked down onto the bed and massage her breasts with agile hands. One bidder for the right to make her cry out as they thrust their fingers inside her, sweaty and panting, her body slick with desire. There was only one bidder and Doris had it all.
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