“Come here, Mandy.”
She froze at the door, her spider-sense and loins both tingling with a mixture of anticipation, fear, and Tend-Skin ™. Slowly she turned to face the cecilfielderian figure that called out to her. His eyes were wild, and the statesman behind them had been replaced with the pure energy that can only be the embodiment of lust, love, or hatred. In these eyes, she sensed all three. She was certain that he could hear her heart pounding as she approached him.
“Mandy, did you know that I am the most powerful man in the world?”
He leaned forward until his face was just six inches away from hers. At this distance, his impossibly wide shoulders stretched as far as her eyes could see. As he spoke, the sweet scent of cumin from this afternoon’s turkey chili mingled with the musky odor of a long day of bipartisan legislating.
“Really?” Her lips mouthed the word, but the sound that accompanied the movement was more a squeek than decipherable syllables.
“No president can win without California, and I can deliver California. Plus, there has never been a president who could beat me arm-wrestling, and there never will be.”
The look in his eyes dared her to contradict him. She said nothing. A powerful near-silence filled the room, highlighting the dueling banjos of their breathing and the powerful beating in her ears.
In the days to come, Mandy would vividly remember this moment every time she dressed, sat, or otherwise interacted with the gubernatorial handprint on her left asscheek. The blow knocked her forward into him, her face suddenly burried between the world’s two most recognizable pectorals.
Mandy wanted to back away, but was frozen by curiousity and the giant hand that still firmly gripped her posterior. Still, she knew that if she didn’t leave now to collect her wits, she would be absorbed into this oak of a man like Deca Durabolin into a glute.
Her voice trembled. “I have to pee,” she whispered. The handsome Austrian looked at her. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
“I’ll be back,” she promised, her voice now steady.
A smile crept onto the governor’s face. He nodded, stroked her rump with his thumb, then released it. She turned and exited into the hallway, passed the restroom, and entered the elevator. She did not relax until the doors closed, leaving her alone with her regrets.