Marilyn said, mid-giggle. "You're fine. Your father is just pulling your leg."
Charlie looked back at me. "Dad, that's not funny! You could have given me a heart attack!" He grabbed his backpack and headed to his room with Dum-Dum.
I looked over at Marilyn. "A singularly inappropriate remark, wouldn't you say?", I commented.
Marilyn rolled her eyes, and then another school bus rolled up and deposited the girls. I got a nice set of hugs from them. Afterwards my wife commented, "How are you feeling about this?"
"Well, it sucks. John is one of my oldest friends. I told you how we met, right, getting me out of jail? That was over twenty years ago! I'm closer to John than I am to my own family."
"He's your father.", she replied. "Or at least who your father should have been. Or something like that."
"I understand you.", I said, nodding. "I think I will miss John more than my real father. What the hell does that say about me?"
Marilyn shrugged and went off in search of our offspring. I just sat there in the great room until it was time to start cooking something for dinner. I was moving on autopilot, though, and pretty quiet the rest of the night.
Marilyn snapped me out of it at bedtime. She came out into the living room wearing a very nice peignoir set and settled into my recliner with me. "Do you think John would want you moping around, or would he want you to get back to living?"
"Probably the second.", I answered, smiling a bit.
"I can help with that."
"Oh? Just what did you have in mind?", I asked.
Marilyn lowered her lips to my ears. "That all depends on just how athletic you're feeling. There's a videotape cued op on the VCR, a tube of cherry flavored lube on the night stand, and a couple of toys next to it. Anything coming to mind?"
I had my hands around Marilyn's waist, and she shifted to stand up and lead me into her den of iniquity. On the other hand, she didn't talk like this often, and I liked it. I tightened my grip and kept her on my lap. "Tell me more. What did you have in mind?"
She moved to climb to her feet again. "Come on and you can show me what you have in mind."
I stayed put. I shook my head. "No, I want you to tell me what you're going to do. I want you to tell me."
"Carl, no. You know I can't do that. Please, come to bed."
I released my grip slightly, but before she could move, I slid a hand down her side and across her hip, and then went down her legs. I tugged the hem of the peignoir and slid my hand under it, and then moved it slowly back up her legs. Marilyn began squirming, and looked towards the hallway. She frantically, whispered, "Stop, the kids might come out!"
"They can't see anything." By that point I had moved my hand far enough up her legs to start fingering her greasy hot slit. She whimpered at the touch. "Now, what do you want to do tonight?"
As I began to flick my fingers across her clit, Marilyn squirmed and moaned softly. "Oh, you're so mean! All right! I'd want to get undressed, the both of us, and I think you'd want me to suck your cock. Would you like that?" I made some agreeable murmurs, and Marilyn continued. "Maybe we could do some sixty-nine? I love it when you lick my pussy. Please, Carl, lick my pussy tonight?" I made a few more murmurs. "I'll swallow your come, and then get you hard again. Then you can fuck me until we come again."
"How do you want me to fuck you?"
"Hard, really hard and deep."
"How? What position do you want me to fuck you in?", I pushed.
I revved up my finger action and my wife was shivering under my touch. "From behind, it goes in so deep that way..." I made a few more murmurs, and she blurted into my ear, "In my ass! I bet you'd like to fuck my ass tonight! Please Carl, let's just go to bed and you can fuck my ass!"
I pulled my hand out from under Marilyn's nightgown, and straightened up some, and she hopped off my lap. My cock wanted to say thank you, since she had been sitting on it a touch earlier. She eagerly grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind her. "Just keep in mind the sacrifice I am making for you tonight.", I told her. "It's not my fault you have these uncontrollable urges."
Marilyn snorted at that. "You're such a helpful guy."
"I am, I am indeed!"
Chapter 118: Armed Services
Winter 1994-1995
Now that we were the majority, everybody got to play musical chairs with the various committee assignments. Science, Space, and Technology was interesting, and I thought I did well there with the Internet bill. Likewise, Veterans Affairs gave me the place to do the Gulf War Veterans Bill, and that was both timely and useful. Still, both were backwaters as far as anything useful was concerned. Science would do all sorts of wonderful things, like hold hearings on the NASA budget or the Superconducting Super Collider, but these budgets would be the first place raided when 'important' stuff needed doing. For the price of a few fairly useless B-2 stealth bombers, the world's top heavy particle collider could have been built in Dallas, and not in Europe. Veterans Affairs was equally a dead end; why the Veterans Administration needed to be upgraded to a cabinet department was way beyond me.
Floyd Spence was the ranking Republican on the committee and would become chairman when we reconvened. I managed a quick meeting with him and got myself assigned to the Subcommittee on Tactical Air and Land Forces. This was one of the bigger subcommittees, bigger in the sense of importance. We oversaw the Army and Air Force, the National Guard, the Reserves, and several logistic and modernization areas. There were other subcommittees related to the Navy and Marines, Intelligence, Oversight, and such. I probably knew as much about the Army as any of the other members, for good or for bad. Floyd made a call and got me a meeting with the Chief of Staff for the committee, which was also quite helpful, since those guys actually do most of the work.
As I had told Newt and the others, Bill Clinton wasn't going to roll over and let the Republican Party have their way with things. He was already scrambling to recover, like a quarterback moving as his pocket collapsed around him. He was promising to work with the Congress to pass this, that, and the other thing, and simultaneously trying to rally the Democrats into a coherent response. We were still planning on keeping up the pressure, with a plan to spend the first two weeks of the new Congress introducing our Contract with America bills and giving speeches on them.
Unfortunately, it wasn't enough for Newt. He wanted to destroy Bill Clinton. I simply think he just didn't like the man. We spoke about this mid-January when he came over to the house on 30th for a working dinner. There were just a few of us, not the entire Gang, John Boehner, Jim Nussle, Newt, and myself. I had promised them my signature coq au vin meal.
John was the first to arrive, and I let him into the house and brought him back to the kitchen. He sat down on a tall bar stool on the side of the kitchen island facing the stove. "So, you actually know how to cook? Every other time I've eaten over here it's been catered or you've had a chef in doing something."
"Yes I know how to cook! I've been cooking for myself ever since I left home as a kid."
"You mean when your parents threw you out?", he asked.
I nodded. "It was a little more complicated than that, but essentially yes. Wine?" I held up a bottle of Riesling I had pulled out of the wine cooler, and John nodded. I began to open the bottle and continued talking. "For most of the last two years of high school I was on my own, so it was either learn to cook or eat at McDonald's three times a day. That stuff will kill you. Besides, my girlfriend liked that I could cook."