The Surrogate Lover
At Quorum Call Bar,
The senator looked trim.
He returned my smile,
And I knew I had him.
Some words later,
And the deal was one,
I'd call him tomorrow
At a quarter to one.
He'd drop by the bank
To pick up his cash,
I'd rub on some makeup
To cover my rash.
Three months, now,
Our Agreement's been flowing.
The sex has been heavy,
My bank account growing.
Every ten days
I'd greet him so well
With hugs and moans
At the luxury hotel.
I'd pour him a scotch
With a Viagra or two.
He'd be hard in an hour,
And I knew what to do.
He'd enjoy his drink
As I fingered his thigh
Loosened his collar
And took off his tie.
"Just lay on the towel,"
I directed with dare,
"I'll rathole my money
And make us a pair."
I said, "Lay back, hold still,"
And he understood,
"I'm taking my pleasure
With your huge manhood."
Well, I teased and I rubbed
With oil up and down,
And I squeezed and I stroked
Till he lost his old frown.
I straddled impaled
And rode with full passion
As he shivered and shook
In senatorial fashion.
He was always on time
And never too late.
When the big moment came
His O was just great!
I said, "How 'bout a repeat
In another ten days?
Any longer than that
And I get out of phase.
"Tonight you were super
With nothing to hide.
If we wait any longer,
It's wasting your pride."
He nodded and smiled
And strode out the door
Thinking Congress is great,
Every woman a whore!
I counted my C notes,
Checked my little black book,
Senator Fukkam's up next,
He's gonna get took.
O, my shedule works nice
Doing one every day,
Playing like horny
And making the hay.
Doing my duty
To all of mankind,
Letting ol' John Hancock
Touch my behind.
Serving my country,
Keeping politicians alert,
Preserving their family,
And no one gets hurt.
Author's Note:
The Surrogate Lover is based on an actual case scenario from the 1990s.
Our surrogate is now "retired" following post-graduate college work at USC
and is now a Licensed Marriage and Family Counselor in Southern California
with a thriving practice specializing in "men's issues."
It figures!
Copyright 2008 by Richard Lee Orey
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To cover my rash.
Regis
Cheers J'nia
Many Strippers are lesbians, but the men usually haven't a clue...I told my ex-husband go to the club without your money & see how much they like you over "Mister Brought His Bucks"...
oh tuck a buck.....lol...any woman called whore by Anyone is actually blind to the road paved by a man which is not a oneway street...I wonder why men are hardly ever called Man-Whore? lol It does take more than one participant & I Applaud Miss Hottsie "Surrogate Lover" who probably takes her money home to her Girlf-Friend :)
Fun Read You Have Written About This Congress Guy :)
Embraced ~ Embrassé
Vickie
You have written the truth, and are bang on with what you've said. P.S two Viagra could be deadly. Love Holly
The poem doesn't shock or surprise me since there have been "ladies of the night" as far back as one can imagine. The only difference between the one in your poem and others on the street is that she presents herself with more class and demands greater compensation than the street walkers.
Tell me this, Richard--when a dope peddler sells dope the buyer gets put in jail. When a prostitute sells sex she gets put in jail. Shouldn't men bear some of the consequences when caught? (Or, maybe they do and I just don't know about it.)
Anyway, despite all my questions and opinions, you really did a great job writing the poem. When you decide to give one your all, you truly do a fantastic job.
Love,
Sage