Olivia’s Ulterior Motive

Joan Kramer, the Congressman’s chief of staff, was standing in her usual place, directly behind her boss’s right shoulder, and doing what she usually did, telling her boss what he needed to know. “That’s Olivia Du Maurier.”

Congressman Harrison said, “She’s stunning,” in a way that made Joan’s heart sink. She didn’t need this shit tonight. Fundraising banquets were always a nightmare; so much to plan and coordinate, and even when things went well, they were never completely in control. An enormous crowd of people, all paying good money for the chance to schmooze with the candidate, and only one tiny mistake could blow the whole night, if not several political careers and potentially the balance of power in Congress. Now, judging by the tone of the Congressman’s voice, Joan had one more thing to worry about before she could retire to her hotel room with a carton of Cherry Garcia ice cream and a fifth of vodka.

Daniel Harrison was one of Congress’s up-and-comers. Young, handsome, dynamic and charismatic, he was already being discussed as a possible Senate candidate in a few years and then, who knew? The sky was the limit. Harrison had Reagan’s patriotic enthusiasm, LBJ’s persuasiveness, Clinton’s sex appeal, and Kennedy’s hair. Harrison also had Kennedy’s libido and since Harrison’s wife was at another fundraiser on the other side of the state, Joan worried she might have to shoot her boss with a tranquilizer dart to keep him from getting into trouble tonight.

Fortunately, Joan thought, it appeared the problem might solve itself. Olivia Du Maurier was definitely stunning, with long blonde hair and a firm, curvaceous figure, and an undeniable, irresistibly charming way about her. She smiled in a way that made people across the room feel like she was smiling at them. Even though Congressman Harrison was the guest of honor for the fundraiser, Olivia was the center of attention. Men and women were clustered about her like she was at the center of some flirtatious vortex. If the Congressman had hoped to get Olivia alone that evening, he’d have to stand in line.

Congressman Harrison said, “What can you tell me about her, Joan?”

As usual, Joan had the necessary information right off the top of her head. “Friend of the Pembertons. She helped them with their fundraising drives for the Children’s Hospital and the Art Museum complex. She raised more than a million dollars for them and then matched it with seven-figure contributions of her own. She came as their guest tonight.”

“Wow,” said Congressman Harrison. “Can we recruit her to fundraise for us? Is she a reliable donor?”

“I’m not even sure she’s a citizen, to be honest.”

“So why is she here, Joan? She doesn’t strike me as one of my typical constituents. What’s her agenda tonight?”

Joan did what she always did when she didn’t have all the answers. She said, “I’ll find out, Congressman. You just work the other side of the room.” An idea occurred to Joan. “Stay away from Ms. Du Maurier for the time being. Don’t go near her until we know what she’s after.” That would keep his randiness at bay for a while.

Joan went to work. One of the challenging (and frustrating) things about politics is that direct questions and answers won’t do. Nobody wants to go out on a limb with a straight “yes” or “no” answer. When you want to learn information you need to work around the edges. Find someone on the periphery and start a casual conversation about something else, then ease into what you want to know. Glean a piece of trivia and then move on to someone else. Pick up another scrap of information, file it, cross-reference it, and then move on. Smile, charm, tap dance, kiss ass and most importantly, never disclose your real motive, but never forget it, either.

After an hour and a half, Joan was ready to report to the Congressman. She found him at the head table, chatting with the editor of the international desk of the local rag about Lebanon. She took him aside.

“What did you find out,” Congressman Harrison asked. His enthusiasm reminded Joan of when she was in high school and her best friend Sharon was dying to know if Keith Walton was going to ask her to the prom.

Joan whispered, “The Pembertons say she just wanted to tag along. She’s never evinced an interest to them in politics, let alone at the local level. She just indicated that the evening ‘sounded like fun’ and she didn’t blink at having to pay five hundred dollars a plate. In fact, she insisted on paying for herself and the Pembertons’ meals.”

“Is that all,” asked the Congressman.

“No, there’s more. Lots more,” Joan said with a lot of satisfaction. She’d worked hard to dig up this dirt. “The man she’s associated with is Ian Masters.”

Congressman Harrison’s eyes widened. “I’ve heard of him. Filthy rich. Obscenely rich, in fact. Are they married?”

Joan shrugged. “I don’t know. Nobody seems to know. But yes, he’s obscenely rich and he’s not here tonight. He’s not even in the country. He’s on a business trip, trying to make deals all over the Far East. He’s in China right now, then he’s planning to go to Taiwan, Japan, AND South Korea.”

“He’s talking to both the Chinese and Taiwan?”

“Maybe North Korea, too.”

The Congressman, who’d dined with presidents, kings and prime ministers all over the world, said, “Wow. That’s impressive,” and Joan knew he meant it.

Joan said, “That’s what makes Miss Du Maurier’s presence here tonight interesting. Ian Masters is trying to make business deals all over the Pacific Rim and Miss Du Maurier just happens to feel like dropping by the campaign fundraiser for a key vote on the House’s Foreign Affairs committee?”

“What do you think she wants?”

“What does anyone want with a Congressman, Daniel? Pull! Influence! Obviously, Ian Masters wants a friend on the committee, and she’s here to help him do that!”

“It’s a brilliant strategy, if it’s true.” said the Congressman. They were staring at Olivia together, now, watching her practically undress the Mayor with her smile.

Joan said, “You need to be careful with her. This could easily blow up in our faces. If someone found out she was trying to influence you in any way, it could destroy your career.” My career, too, Joan thought.

“Oh, come on, Joan,” said Congressman Harrison. “She’s just a woman. What could she do, throw herself at me? Seduce me? Make me her sex slave and bend me to her will?”

Yes, Joan thought.

Congressman Harrison continued. “She’s a guest. She’s made a political contribution to my campaign, all within the bounds of the law. She hasn’t stripped naked for me or sent whores to my hotel room or offered me an envelope full of cash or anything like that. In fact, I haven’t even spoken to her all night. And if I do speak to her and she wants me to do something for this Ian Masters fellow, I’ll just have to take it into consideration and do what’s best for my constituents and the nation. I’d do the same thing if a homeless man on the street collared me and told me he was worried about cuts in veterans’ benefits.”

Yeah, but a homeless man wouldn’t look so phenomenal in that slinky red dress and those pumps, Joan thought.

Congressman Harrison said, “You worry too much, Joan. I’m not going to jeopardize my career or yours tonight.”

Joan sighed. She knew the Congressman’s tone of voice to know that he was being serious now, but she also knew his short attention span, especially when it came to women like Olivia Du Maurier.

Joan decided the best thing to do was to lurk in the shadows for the rest of the evening, quietly tailing the Congressman and making sure he remembered to behave himself. Before I start doing that, Joan thought, I need to go pee.

Joan went into the ladies’ room just outside the hotel’s main banquet hall. As she was washing her hands after finishing her business, Olivia strode into the ladies’ room like she owned it.

“Hello, Ms. Kramer,” Olivia said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I understand you’ve got the Congressman’s right ear. You’re just the person I’d like to speak to.” Olivia’s voice was smooth and light, almost little-girlish. As they shook hands, Joan found herself envious of Olivia’s smooth, almost translucent skin.

“Well, Ms. Du Maurier, on behalf of the Congressman I’d like to thank you for attending tonight, and for your generous contribution to his campaign.” Joan found herself tripping over her words and working hard to control her breathing. This woman wasn’t just stunning, she was captivating. She was hypnotic.

Olivia giggled. “My pleasure, although I have to confess I’m not much interested in politics. I’m here tonight to really discuss something else with your boss. I’d like a few moments of his time.”

“I’m afraid that’ll be quite difficult, Ms. Du Maurier. The Congressman’s very busy this evening.”

“Oh, I think he’ll make time for me,” said Olivia.

“And why is that?” Joan hid her smile. Here it is, she thought. Now we find out what this woman’s up to.

Olivia said, “It’s my understanding that the Congressman’s wife is on the board of directors of the Children’s Hospital here in town, is that correct?”

“Yes, she is! Lydia’s very active with the Children’s Hospital. She’s not just on the board, she’s the chief physician for the hospital’s cancer wing. The Congressman’s very proud of her.” Joan had regained her composure, now. She made it a point to emphasize that the Congressman was married.

Olivia spent a moment looking around the ladies’ room, making sure they were alone. “With good reason. I’ve been following Lydia’s work with children’s leukemia. Very impressive. I’d like to help her out by making a donation.”

“Of course, Ms. Du Maurier. Thank you for your generosity. You can contact the hospital directly for your donation.”

Olivia giggled again. “Oh, I don’t think you understand. This is a sizable donation. And I want to make it anonymously. Tonight. The hospital would make such a fuss and there’d be press and photographers there and I’d rather avoid all that. I’d just like a moment of the Congressman’s time so I can give him the check and he can pass it along to his wife for me.”

“You want to make the donation tonight?”

“Why not? I have the cashier’s check right here. Do you want to see?” Olivia fished through her pocketbook and removed a piece of paper, folded in half. She handed it to Joan, who looked at it.

Despite her best efforts to show no reaction, Joan couldn’t help gasping at what she saw.

Olivia said, “I think that the Congressman can spare a few moments for the sake of ten million dollars to help children fight cancer of the blood, don’t you?”

Joan re-folded the check and handed it back to Olivia like she was handling one of Queen Elizabeth’s diamond tiaras. “I think I can squeeze you into the Congressman’s schedule this evening, Ms. Du Maurier.”

“Thank you so much,” said Olivia. “I promise not to take him away from his other appointments. Just have him come up to my suite in fifteen minutes and I’ll give it to him then. You understand I’d appreciate the utmost privacy and discretion.” Olivia smiled.

“Of course, Ms. Du Maurier.” Joan felt nervous and warm and comfortable, all at the same time.

As soon as Olivia left, Joan collared the Congressman and explained what had just happened. Even he was agog at the prospect of receiving an eight-figure cashier’s check. They talked as they hurried to the elevator to take them to the penthouse suite. “Holy shit, this will really get me in good with Lydia,” he said. “She’s still touchy about that little misunderstanding with the Governor’s wife.”

“That’s right, Congressman! Think about Lydia! Think about the Children’s Hospital! Just take the check, thank Olivia for her generosity and get out of there and back to the banquet!”

“Are you sure she didn’t mention anything about the Foreign Relations committee or China or anything like that?”

“Not a peep. Let’s keep it that way. The less time you spend in her presence the less chance you’ll get into trouble.”

They were standing in the ascending elevator, now, waiting for it to reach the hotel’s top floor, where the penthouse suite was located. Congressman Harrison said, “Joan, you really don’t think much of my ability to keep my dick in my pants when it’s crunch time, do you?”

Joan didn’t answer.

Congressman Harrison turned to face his chief of staff. “Joan, this is about more than just a piece of ass. This is a lot of money to do a lot of good work. For my wife’s sake. I wouldn’t dream of getting into bed with anyone tonight anyway. There’s too much at stake, with all these people and the press around. It’s an election year. Doing something stupid tonight wouldn’t just jeopardize my career and my marriage, it would probably ruin my whole life if I got caught.”

“I’m glad you realize that.”

The elevator bell chimed, announcing they’d arrived at the top floor. Congressman Harrison said, “I’ll be fine. Thank you for your generosity, Ms. Du Maurier. Take the check, ten minutes in and out. You go on back downstairs and keep people busy until I get back.” He stepped out of the elevator.

Joan stayed where she was. “Ten minutes. In and out.” As the elevator doors closed, leaving her alone to return to the fundraiser, Joan actually started to relax a little bit.

Twenty minutes later, Joan was back in the elevator, trying to will it to get up to the top floor as quickly as possible. Her heart was pounding, her breathing was labored, and she was so frustrated and panicky and, yes, angry, that her vision was blurred and she could barely see.

When she arrived at the top floor, Joan was out the elevator doors almost before they opened. She was ready to break down the ornate, enormous wooden doors to the penthouse suite, but to her astonishment, they weren’t locked.

Joan surged into the suite, not noticing the King Louis XIV antique furniture or the gold-leaf trim along the walls or the plush bright red carpeting. When she burst into the main bedroom, she knew what to expect, but she wanted to scream in astonishment, anyway.

Congressman Daniel Harrison was on his back, on a bed large enough to sleep a basketball team, stark naked, while Olivia Du Maurier was sitting in his lap, riding his cock, her body glistening with perspiration and writhing with obvious enthusiasm.

“Daniel, what are you doing,” Joan screamed as loud as she dared, which was actually just barely above a whisper.

Olivia leapt off the bed. She approached Joan quickly, but with no sense of urgency. Although she was naked, she displayed no sense of shame or even of any excitement at having been caught. She said, “Joan, I’m so glad you could make it. Daniel said you’d be up to check on him in about twenty minutes or so, but we found ourselves in the mood to get started without you.”


Olivia was leading Joan to the bed, speaking in that soft little-girl voice of hers. “I confess I told a little fib, earlier. Politics doesn’t interest me, but politicians do. All that power and persuasiveness. I find it intoxicating. The ultimate aphrodisiac, don’t you think?”

Joan was speechless. Olivia circled her, softly caressing Joan’s skin with her long, perfectly manicured fingers. “But the power’s not just in the one whose name is on the ballot, is it, Joan? The one who casts the votes and makes the deals and gets the press is just the public face, isn’t it, Joan? The one who works behinds the scenes is just as powerful, isn’t she? She’s just as important. Just as intoxicating to be in her presence, I think.” Olivia punctuated her words with a soft kiss on the back of Joan’s neck as she slipped the strap off one of Joan’s shoulders.

“You-you-you think I’m intoxicating?” Joan found herself unable to resist as she felt Olivia tug at the zipper of Joan’s dress. Down, down, down it went.

“Of course, Joan. Both of you. I couldn’t enjoy one of you without the other. You’re a package deal.” She tugged at Joan’s dress and it easily slipped to the floor.

“You want both of us? Now,” asked Joan.

“I was all set to give Daniel my check when he said if he wasn’t back downstairs in ten minutes you were coming up here after him. I knew then I just had to wait for you, and here you are.” She cupped Joan’s now-naked breasts and began delivering soft kisses up Joan’s neck, toward her mouth.

Joan looked at her boss, lying there on the bed, watching the whole episode. His erection looked enormous. “She’s quite persuasive, isn’t she, Joan?”

Joan was too busy kissing Olivia to respond. All her reservations were dissipating like the smoke from one of Senator Allan’s cigars. For the next hour, Joan felt like she was swimming in a warm ocean, not of water, but of skin, and she didn’t come to her senses until after she’d come a fourth time, on her back, with Olivia eating her pussy while Daniel was fucking Olivia from behind.

My God, what have we done, she recalled.

Daniel, true to his manly, married nature, dressed and left the suite as soon as he could. He muttered something about getting back to the fundraiser and took off.

Joan reached for her clothes, but Olivia stopped her. “There’s no hurry. He’s the guest of honor. Stick around a while.” For the first time in a long time, Joan opted to think about herself first, instead of her boss.

After another half an hour on the bed, Joan and Olivia adjourned to the bathroom, where they soaked in a tub large enough for that basketball team for whom the bed was designed.

Joan tried to enjoy the lilac-scented bubble bath and the warm water and Olivia’s body sitting next to her. She tried to enjoy the feeling of Olivia’s soft fingers caressing her erect nipples and her belly and making their way down to between Joan’s legs. One thing was bothering her.

“What do you want,” Joan asked.

“What do you mean, Darling,” said Olivia.

“The check, the fundraiser, Daniel’s spot on the Foreign Relations committee. It’s all part of something bigger. What do you want from him? From us?”

Olivia said, “Darling Joan, you spend too much time with politicians. Daniel and Ian and the Mayor and the Governor, all with their hidden agendas.” She kissed Joan again, in a way that told Joan they weren’t going back to the fundraiser anytime soon. Olivia said, “I have no ulterior motives. I just like to fuck.”

© 2008 J.T. Benjamin. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

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