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thirdmondayTitle: A Treatise on the Art of Sword Fighting, by Rahm Emanuel and Anthony Weiner
Recipient: Zeggy (unquietspirit)
Fandoms: Political RPF
Rating: R
Warnings: Mild bondage, swearing
Characters/Pairings: Rahm Emanuel/Anthony Weiner
Prompt: Power-struggle smut
Disclaimer: The real people mentioned own themselves and I make no claim on them. This is a work of fiction.
Author: Tish (count_nickula)
“I feel like coming down there and going down on you right where you are,” Rahm's voice slithered down the phone line.
Anthony chuckled as he leaned against a column, “You know I'm about to do an interview for Fox? You reckon a little man-on-man action live from the lobby of Congress is what the network is aiming for?”
Rahm laughed and replied, “Be more fucking intellectually stimulating than what they've got going on right now. How long is that turtle gonna be warbling on?”
Anthony tilted his head in confusion, “Uh, turtles don't warble. Also, to which turtle are you referring?”
“McConnell. Look at him. He's the first turtle elected to national fucking office. Hey, I can see you in shot. Give us a wave!”
Anthony gave a small wave, barely tilting the phone away from his ear, “That okay?”
“Pshhht, should've got your cock out and waved it, Weiner,” came the caustic reply.
“Yeah, but I have a hell of a time rolling it back up and tucking it in again,” Anthony retorted.
“Just use a wheel-barrow like me, bitch.”
Anyone still awake during Mitch McConnell's interview would have been rather mystified to see in the background a dashing Representative from New York having a giggle-fit.
Next morning, Anthony was just finishing a phone call when Rahm let himself into the office, sat himself sprawling on the couch, all the while smiling his trademark crafty smile. He carefully arranged a deli bag on the coffee table and waited for Anthony to hang up and come over.
“Second breakfast?” enquired Anthony.
“None of that Hobbit-y malarkey, Weiner. Have you been hanging around Colbert or something?” Rahm purred, loosening his tie.
“You get bonus nerd points for recognizing the source,” Anthony smirked. He cast a critical eye over Rahm's choice of neck wear, “You really do have fuck-awful taste in ties, Rahm. You must rummage through charity shop cast-offs to find those.”
Rahm glared, laser-like at Weiner, “You don't like it? Fine, you won't have to look at it any more.” With that he slipped the tie off and blindfolded Anthony with it.
“Very funny,” he muttered. “Is this going to be a blind tasting, then?”
“More or less,” Rahm replied as he loosened Anthony's tie and knotted it around his wrists.
Anthony listened to the crinkling of the bag and tried to anticipate what Rahm would do. He made a mental list of what Rahm might try and insert into his mouth, chiefly the White House Chief of Staff's cock. He was pleasantly surprised when a slice of cake touched his lips, and ran a tongue along it, guiding it into his mouth.
“Mmmm, cheesecake. Strawberry, a bit of chocolate,” Anthony murmured in appreciation.
“Eli's Cheesecake of Chicago. Best fucking slice of heaven you'll ever taste,” Rahm declared.
As Anthony savoured the taste and texture of the cheesecake, he felt Rahm draw closer and felt himself being kissed passionately. He leant into it and slowly forced Rahm back into the couch.
Rahm broke off, mock-growling, “You know, it'd be easy for me to shove my cock down your throat right now.”
Anthony snorted a laugh, “Sure, and it'd be easy for me to take a bite. Maybe you should suck me off instead.”
Rahm quickly brushed his lips against Anthony's before moving away again. There was the sound of a lid opening and a slight, subtle smell of hand lotion wafted towards Anthony's nostrils. He felt his pants being unzipped, a hand running over his hardening cock and he let out a soft moan of pleasure.
Rahm's voice came quietly again, “I know for a fact you like that, not to mention this,” Rahm's fingers started a slow circling motion that made Anthony gasp. Rahm chuckled, “Yeah, he said you loved that. Said a lot about the things you loved, actually.”
Still highly aroused, Anthony felt a surge of alarm, “He? Who? Oh shit! You didn't. No fucking way. How'd you get him to blab? Oh fuck, you're Rahm Emanuel, that's how!”
Still working away at Anthony's cock, Rahm freed the blindfold from Anthony's eyes and then held up an old Polaroid. “Damn, you two were a pair of good looking motherfuckers then. Still are. Stewart was pretty flexible, too. Wouldn't think it now, but fuck yeah!” He tilted the photo to get a good look from all angles and whistled in awe.
“What exactly did you threaten Jon with to get that?” Anthony frowned.
Rahm sighed, “I don't threaten. I encourage and nurture an alternate viewpoint to which people may not have previously given their fullest consideration. Anyway, I just showed him a very interesting stash of photos of himself and Mr. Colbert that I uh, came across, so to speak.”
Anthony shook his head in amazement, “Okay, so how the fuck did you acquire those photos?”
“Stephen showed them to me. He had them in an album, even scanned off copies for me,” Rahm replied cheerily.
“So, you went as far as blackmailing both Stewart and Colbert in order to get a blow job from me?” Anthony asked incredulously.
Rahm cackled with laughter, “No! Stephen was happy to share the pictures!”
“You are one crazy fucker, Rahm. Don't ever let me get on your bad side, if this is what you do to your friends!” Anthony chuckled. “Finish me off and I'll give you a damn good workout.”
“You'll get yours when I get mine, baby,” Rahm countered, standing up and unzipping his pants.
Presented with Rahm Emanuel's Deputy Chief of Staff, Anthony decided that this was in fact, a very good idea and set about the task at hand. Or rather, since he was still tied up, the task at mouth. With his friend bobbing away in front of him, Rahm casually pulled out his cell phone and tapped a key.
As Rahm greeted the President, Anthony nearly choked. He stopped and caught Rahm's eye, only to get a wink in return and a gentle shove of the head to set him back to work. Anthony wasn't going to be intimidated by this and set about doing interesting things with his tongue. He kept his eyes on Rahm's, watching the sheer willpower he displayed as he managed to keep his voice level and focused as he talked to Obama, despite the stimulation of his package going on down below. Anthony kept a gentle rhythm as he slid his tongue across Rahm's cock, adding occasional twists and turns. Finally he made his move, swallowing Rahm whole and flicking his tongue across his balls.
Rahm nearly dropped his phone as he blurted out a groaned, “Fuck!”
Anthony somehow managed to keep from laughing as he swallowed, licked Rahm clean and waited for him to recover himself.
Rahm took a deep breath and spoke into the phone, “Sorry about that, Mr. President, I nearly spilled something.” As the distinct sound of laughter came from the phone, he watched Anthony slowly lick his lips and continued, “No spillage, all mopped up now, sir. Okay, I'll be back in time for the meeting. Representative Weiner sends his regards, by the way. Bye, sir.”
Rahm knelt down in front of Anthony, a smile both wolfish and highly amused. He ran a hand slowly down Anthony's shirt, sliding in and out between the buttons and asked gleefully, “The fuck shall I do with you now, my friend?”
“I have very few hard and fast rules. One of them is not to have sword fights in the morning with Rahm Emanuel.”
Rahm smiled to himself as he heard Rep. Anthony Weiner (D – N.Y.) utter those words. Only he could hear the intonation in Anthony's voice and see the sparkle in his eyes. Only he would have the pleasure later of removing the anal beads that Anthony wore during that interview. He just had to remember that it wasn't like starting a lawn mower...
Recipient: Zeggy (unquietspirit)
Fandoms: Political RPF
Rating: R
Warnings: Mild bondage, swearing
Characters/Pairings: Rahm Emanuel/Anthony Weiner
Prompt: Power-struggle smut
Disclaimer: The real people mentioned own themselves and I make no claim on them. This is a work of fiction.
Author: Tish (
count_nickula)“I feel like coming down there and going down on you right where you are,” Rahm's voice slithered down the phone line.
Anthony chuckled as he leaned against a column, “You know I'm about to do an interview for Fox? You reckon a little man-on-man action live from the lobby of Congress is what the network is aiming for?”
Rahm laughed and replied, “Be more fucking intellectually stimulating than what they've got going on right now. How long is that turtle gonna be warbling on?”
Anthony tilted his head in confusion, “Uh, turtles don't warble. Also, to which turtle are you referring?”
“McConnell. Look at him. He's the first turtle elected to national fucking office. Hey, I can see you in shot. Give us a wave!”
Anthony gave a small wave, barely tilting the phone away from his ear, “That okay?”
“Pshhht, should've got your cock out and waved it, Weiner,” came the caustic reply.
“Yeah, but I have a hell of a time rolling it back up and tucking it in again,” Anthony retorted.
“Just use a wheel-barrow like me, bitch.”
Anyone still awake during Mitch McConnell's interview would have been rather mystified to see in the background a dashing Representative from New York having a giggle-fit.
Next morning, Anthony was just finishing a phone call when Rahm let himself into the office, sat himself sprawling on the couch, all the while smiling his trademark crafty smile. He carefully arranged a deli bag on the coffee table and waited for Anthony to hang up and come over.
“Second breakfast?” enquired Anthony.
“None of that Hobbit-y malarkey, Weiner. Have you been hanging around Colbert or something?” Rahm purred, loosening his tie.
“You get bonus nerd points for recognizing the source,” Anthony smirked. He cast a critical eye over Rahm's choice of neck wear, “You really do have fuck-awful taste in ties, Rahm. You must rummage through charity shop cast-offs to find those.”
Rahm glared, laser-like at Weiner, “You don't like it? Fine, you won't have to look at it any more.” With that he slipped the tie off and blindfolded Anthony with it.
“Very funny,” he muttered. “Is this going to be a blind tasting, then?”
“More or less,” Rahm replied as he loosened Anthony's tie and knotted it around his wrists.
Anthony listened to the crinkling of the bag and tried to anticipate what Rahm would do. He made a mental list of what Rahm might try and insert into his mouth, chiefly the White House Chief of Staff's cock. He was pleasantly surprised when a slice of cake touched his lips, and ran a tongue along it, guiding it into his mouth.
“Mmmm, cheesecake. Strawberry, a bit of chocolate,” Anthony murmured in appreciation.
“Eli's Cheesecake of Chicago. Best fucking slice of heaven you'll ever taste,” Rahm declared.
As Anthony savoured the taste and texture of the cheesecake, he felt Rahm draw closer and felt himself being kissed passionately. He leant into it and slowly forced Rahm back into the couch.
Rahm broke off, mock-growling, “You know, it'd be easy for me to shove my cock down your throat right now.”
Anthony snorted a laugh, “Sure, and it'd be easy for me to take a bite. Maybe you should suck me off instead.”
Rahm quickly brushed his lips against Anthony's before moving away again. There was the sound of a lid opening and a slight, subtle smell of hand lotion wafted towards Anthony's nostrils. He felt his pants being unzipped, a hand running over his hardening cock and he let out a soft moan of pleasure.
Rahm's voice came quietly again, “I know for a fact you like that, not to mention this,” Rahm's fingers started a slow circling motion that made Anthony gasp. Rahm chuckled, “Yeah, he said you loved that. Said a lot about the things you loved, actually.”
Still highly aroused, Anthony felt a surge of alarm, “He? Who? Oh shit! You didn't. No fucking way. How'd you get him to blab? Oh fuck, you're Rahm Emanuel, that's how!”
Still working away at Anthony's cock, Rahm freed the blindfold from Anthony's eyes and then held up an old Polaroid. “Damn, you two were a pair of good looking motherfuckers then. Still are. Stewart was pretty flexible, too. Wouldn't think it now, but fuck yeah!” He tilted the photo to get a good look from all angles and whistled in awe.
“What exactly did you threaten Jon with to get that?” Anthony frowned.
Rahm sighed, “I don't threaten. I encourage and nurture an alternate viewpoint to which people may not have previously given their fullest consideration. Anyway, I just showed him a very interesting stash of photos of himself and Mr. Colbert that I uh, came across, so to speak.”
Anthony shook his head in amazement, “Okay, so how the fuck did you acquire those photos?”
“Stephen showed them to me. He had them in an album, even scanned off copies for me,” Rahm replied cheerily.
“So, you went as far as blackmailing both Stewart and Colbert in order to get a blow job from me?” Anthony asked incredulously.
Rahm cackled with laughter, “No! Stephen was happy to share the pictures!”
“You are one crazy fucker, Rahm. Don't ever let me get on your bad side, if this is what you do to your friends!” Anthony chuckled. “Finish me off and I'll give you a damn good workout.”
“You'll get yours when I get mine, baby,” Rahm countered, standing up and unzipping his pants.
Presented with Rahm Emanuel's Deputy Chief of Staff, Anthony decided that this was in fact, a very good idea and set about the task at hand. Or rather, since he was still tied up, the task at mouth. With his friend bobbing away in front of him, Rahm casually pulled out his cell phone and tapped a key.
As Rahm greeted the President, Anthony nearly choked. He stopped and caught Rahm's eye, only to get a wink in return and a gentle shove of the head to set him back to work. Anthony wasn't going to be intimidated by this and set about doing interesting things with his tongue. He kept his eyes on Rahm's, watching the sheer willpower he displayed as he managed to keep his voice level and focused as he talked to Obama, despite the stimulation of his package going on down below. Anthony kept a gentle rhythm as he slid his tongue across Rahm's cock, adding occasional twists and turns. Finally he made his move, swallowing Rahm whole and flicking his tongue across his balls.
Rahm nearly dropped his phone as he blurted out a groaned, “Fuck!”
Anthony somehow managed to keep from laughing as he swallowed, licked Rahm clean and waited for him to recover himself.
Rahm took a deep breath and spoke into the phone, “Sorry about that, Mr. President, I nearly spilled something.” As the distinct sound of laughter came from the phone, he watched Anthony slowly lick his lips and continued, “No spillage, all mopped up now, sir. Okay, I'll be back in time for the meeting. Representative Weiner sends his regards, by the way. Bye, sir.”
Rahm knelt down in front of Anthony, a smile both wolfish and highly amused. He ran a hand slowly down Anthony's shirt, sliding in and out between the buttons and asked gleefully, “The fuck shall I do with you now, my friend?”
“I have very few hard and fast rules. One of them is not to have sword fights in the morning with Rahm Emanuel.”
Rahm smiled to himself as he heard Rep. Anthony Weiner (D – N.Y.) utter those words. Only he could hear the intonation in Anthony's voice and see the sparkle in his eyes. Only he would have the pleasure later of removing the anal beads that Anthony wore during that interview. He just had to remember that it wasn't like starting a lawn mower...
(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-02 04:21 am (UTC)Jon+Anthony = UNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNFFFFFFFFFFFFF!