Date: Wed, 13 Jun 2007 23:53:47 -0400
From: The Washingtonian <washingtonian2008@gmail.com>
Subject: The Washingtonian, Part 2 (college section)

	When I got home that morning, there was a note on my desk in
stationary that I knew too well as my roommate's.

Text me when you get home so I know you're okay. Lunch today.  You and me.
Old Ebbitt. 12:30.  Reservation under Spencer. I want details!  Call if you
have a meeting or something and need to cancel. -Ari

	I showed up a half hour late to work, getting an earful from my
boss in the process.  It never amazes me how Fridays always seem to drag.
My hangover stayed with me until I had lunch with Ari and got some grease
in my stomach.  The walk home from the office was pleasant Friday night
mainly from knowing I had two days to sleep in with nothing pressing due
until Monday.  After Thursday night's debauchery, my liver and psyche were
too badly scarred to drink anything more than a glass of wine Saturday
night.  I spent Saturday and Sunday either lying in bed, lying in the sun
at the pool on the roof of our building, or lying in front of the
television.  I was working my first fulltime 9-to-5 job interning at a
Public Affairs firm downtown.  Unfortunately, 9-to-5 at this place was more
like 9-to-whenever my boss felt I could leave for the evening, and the long
hours were really starting to take a toll.  All in all, it made for a very
uneventful weekend.
	On Tuesday during my lunch break I decided to call Hunter after
finding his card in the pocket of my jeans while doing laundry the night
before.  After a couple of rings a friendly female voice answered.  I asked
to speak to Hunter and was informed that he was out of the office.  She
took down my number and assured that he'd get back to me. I was in a
meeting at work when Hunter called on Wednesday.  He left a voicemail
stating that he was sorry for taking so long to get back to me-he had been
in New York but was back in Washington now.  He already had dinner plans,
but was thinking about having a relaxing night in with a movie and a glass
of wine and I was invited to join him.  I returned his call to tell him I
would love to join him.  After a couple minutes of chatting we came to the
consensus that it would be easiest if he picked me up on his way home from
dinner.  Even though I worked past 7:00 that night, I spent the rest of the
day with a smile stretched across my lips.  Part of me was embarrassed that
I was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush, then I'd remember what Hunter
looked like in only a towel and the embarrassment dissipated.
	His reservations were for 7:30 and said he expected to be done
sometime around 9:00, so once home from the office I went downstairs to the
gym and had a quick workout making sure to lift (who knew if my cloths were
coming off that night, but if they were I sure wanted to look as pumped as
possible). I made sure to put on a cute pair of underwear, but other than
that I threw on a casual pair of Bahama-shorts and one of my fathers old
t-shirts from college-truly vintage.  At around 9:15, I received a call
from Hunter who was waiting for the valet to bring his car.  I left my
roommate a note saying I was going over Hunter's, and got in the elevator
when I got a text message stating he was a block away.  With precision
timing, he pulled up to the curb just as I was exciting building.
	"Hello," he greeted with a smile as I opened the door and climbed
into the passengers seat.  He looked good enough to eat in his fitted grey
suit.
	"Hi, how was dinner?" I asked as I buckled up.
	"Eh it was okay," he said speeding the car forward to make the
green light to turn on I Street.  "How was your day today?"
	"Same old, same old.  I had a late day at the office finish up a
presentation."
	"Yeah?  Where do you work?"
	"The Harris Group."
	"Ah, public affairs I see."
	"Yupp, how about you?  Where do you work?"
	"I work at a lobby firm," he responded as we turned onto
Pennsylvania.
	"That's cool.  I was thinking I might want to get involved with
lobbying at some point."
	"Yeah?" he asked, looking over at me again, the grin appearing on
his face again. "I'll have to set you up with an internship somewhere."
	"That would be amazing.  Do you specialize in a policy field?"
	"No, I work at a boutique firm, so I handle whatever client is put
on my plate at the time."
	"Now I see how the townhouse and the nice car fit in," I joked.
	"It pays the bills.  Sorry, but I forget what you said you were
studying the other night. Poli Sci?"
	"Yes, Political Science and Public Policy."
	"Awesome, I studied Poli Sci and PR."
	"Nice, where'd you go to school?"
	"Yale for undergrad and then Georgetown.  You're at GW, right?"
	"Yupp."
	"Cool, I didn't think you'd be living by MacPherson Square if you
were going to Georgetown."
	"Please, I came to the DC to be in the city, not out in the fake
suburbs," I said joking.
	"Hey, Georgetown isn't the suburbs."
	"You're right, if you were in the suburbs you'd get three times the
square-footage for the same price," I replied.
	"Yeah, but then it wouldn't come with the posh zip code or snob
appeal," he said with a laugh.
	We continued our joking banter the rest of the drive to Georgetown.
We drove around his neighborhood for a few minutes looking for a place to
park.  We finally found a spot two blocks away and walked the short
distance to his house.  I have to admit, it felt awkward being in shorts
and a t-shirt (on top of it, I look more like an 18 year old than a 21 year
old) walking next to twenty-something Hunter dressed in a suit and looking
very professional.
	"Well, I'm going to run upstairs-I need to get out of these cloths.
Make yourself at home.  If your hungry or thirsty feel free to grab
something from the fridge," he said as we entered his house and then patted
my butt as he walked behind me to go up the staircase.  I turned around
quickly with a demur, but surprised look on my face.  He merely gave a
wicked grin as he proceeded up the stairs.
	I took a tour of the downstairs, walking through the dinning room,
and the living room looking at the photos he had around, and finally making
my way to the kitchen.  I picked up the Post that was on the counter and
sat down at the table and began flipping through the articles.  It was the
old Sunday paper, and sadly I had already read most of it.  You know you're
a political junky and need help when almost every article in the Sunday
Post is old news.
	"You're so studious," Hunter said jokingly as he entered the
kitchen.  If I thought he looked good in his suit, he looked even better
now.  He gave off a very comfortable aura and looked very sexy barefoot in
pair of red lacrosse shorts, an old grey t-shirt that had Yale stretched
across the muscles of his chest, and wire frame glasses positioned on his
nose.
	"Do you want a glass of wine?" he asked opening a cabinet and
snapping me out of my daze.
	"Yeah, after that day I had at work today wine would be great."
	"Excellent," he stated pulled out two glasses. "White or red?"
	"I'll drink anything.  What do you want?" I replied standing up
from my seat at the table.
	"I'm in the mood for red tonight.  Do you prefer cabernet sauvignon
or pinot noir?"
	"Hmm, tough choice.  I haven't had any pinot noir in a while, how
about that?"
	"Perfect, can you go in that drawer and get the screwpull?" he
asked pointing to a drawer in front of me as he pulled a bottle from the
wine rack on top of his fridge.  I grabbed the gadget and walked over next
to him.  He smelled amazing.  My stomach was a flutter and I almost moaned.
He gave me an appreciative smile when I handed him the screwpull and in one
easy pull upwards, he quickly and effortless pulled the cork out of the
bottle.  I love technology, it makes being a wine-o that much easier.
	"Here, taste. Make sure you like it," he said pouring a little in
one of the glasses and handing it to me.
	"I'm sure it's good," I replied, protesting, but caved after he
gave me a commanding but joking look.  I twirled the glass looking at the
legs the wine made on the sides and then took a sip letting it settle on my
tongue for a second before I swallowed.  It was good wine.  Then again,
I'll drink most anything.
	"Hold on, one second.  You've got an eyelash," he said moving
closer as I was about to take another sip.  He wiped my left cheek with his
thumb and then held it up for me.
	"Make a wish," he said.
	I thought for a second, not wishing for anything in particular
other than to have a nice relaxing evening.  I leaned forward and blew away
the eyelash.  I looked up and smiled at him.  With a grin on his face, he
leaned in a kissed me tenderly on the lips.  If I wanted to moan before, I
was really holding it back now.
	"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he said, his grin still present.
	"It's okay by me," I replied my voice stuck somewhere in my throat.
God he was sexy.
	"Movie?"
	"Sure."
	He grabbed his glass and the bottle and then headed toward the
living room.  I followed close behind, and took a seat on the couch.  He
sat down next to me, mussing up my hair playfully, and then grabbed the
remote and turning on the television.  We scrolled through the On Demand
movies and after ten minutes of deliberation we picked a mindless comedy.
Hunter filled our glasses and we settled in, watching the plasma screen in
front of us.  Fifteen minutes into the movie he placed his hand on my knee
and began to gently rub it.  The soft movement of his thumb lazily across
my skin sent a chill up my spine.  After a couple minutes I in turn put my
hand on this forearm, rubbing the sparsely haired skin and feeling the
muscle beneath.  Soon my hand made its way down to his wrist, eventually
reaching his hand.  He interlaced his fingers with mine, and we sat
content.  We continued this progression of holding hands, playing with each
other's fingers, knee, or arm for a while.  A couple glasses of wine and a
ways into the movie I turned to look at his gorgeous face.  He had a very
peaceful expression, which, in concert with his five o'clock shadow and his
studious-looking glasses, oozed sexiness.  We'd reached a lull in the
movie, and between the amazing smell of his cologne, his thumb working
magic on the inside of my thigh, and the wine taking effect, I couldn't
resist him any longer.
	I slowly leaned in, pressing my lips to his.  I could feel him
smile as then he turned his head to allow me easier access to lips and we
continued to kiss softly.  I began to run my hand from its place on his
forearm upward and squeezing his bicep then running my hand across his
chest.  I wanted more.  I turned my body to face his and began to kiss him
harder, his mouth opening to allow my invading tongue entry.  One hand
roamed his back while the other was roamed his thigh and arm.  His hand was
still on my leg squeezing, rubbing, and slowly and tantalizingly making its
way up the inside of my thigh.  He had me very turned on.  We continued
like this with our hands roaming freely and our tongues intertwined.  He
paused briefly to take his glasses off which kept bumping again my face,
and then placed his hand on the on the back of my head running in through
my hair, then running it down the length of my back until it found it's
place at my lower back wanting to go lower to and squeeze my
butt-unfortunately with the way I was sitting, the couch got in the way.
His stubble scratched against my lips, but instead of detracting from the
moment, added more sensation.  After a few minutes, he pulled back.
	"God you're yummy," he smiled, his hand rubbing my stomach tickling
me in the process.
	"Do I taste like wine?" I asked.
	"You taste better than any wine ever could," he replied with his
sexy smile, I could see at the corner of his mouth that he was having a
hard time holding back a joking grin.  He sure did seem to love corny
lines.
	"Even better than a vintage Mo`t Rosˇ?" I asked playing along.
	"Well-" he began, but I cut him off.
	"Don't answer that.  Just shut up and kiss me," I said forcefully
yet playfully, wondering where this domineering side was coming from.  I
pushed my lips against his taking control of the situation then forced him
back against the cushions of the couch.  He moaned and gave into my
demands, wrapping one arm around my back and grabbing the back of my head
with the other pulling me down with him.  We continued to go at it on the
couch for some time. When we did finish, both of our t-shirts could be
found thrown across the room and Hunter's hands had found their way down
the back of my shorts kneading my rear.  I realize shortly after I pushed
Hunter onto his back that he was really enjoying this new position for he
now had easy access to my ass, and at least one his hands remained there
for the rest our little tryst.  It wasn't until my cell phone began to
vibrate madly in the pocket of my shorts that we stopped.  It was then that
I realized it was almost 1:30.  It's funny that had we not known what time
it was, we probably could have lasted another two hours there on that
couch, but as soon as we became aware of those awful digits on the screen,
a long day and the effects of the wine kicked in and we both began yawning.
I probably could have fallen asleep there on top of him-he was very
comfortable as well as sexy.
	"I should go get in a cab," I said through yawns attempting to sit
up and get off of him.
	"No, stay the night.  It's too late to go out wandering around
Georgetown looking for a cab," he replied pulling me back down on top of
him.
	"You do make a good point.  I think it's funny that if we were in
Foggy Bottom or my section of the city it would be safe to go out walking
alone at night, but here in the ritzy neighborhood it's unsafe."
	"Tis the truth and that means that you're going to spend the
night-" he said kissing me on the lips, "-with-" he kissed my lips again,
"-m..." the last kiss muffled the end of his sentence.  He had me ensnared.
Who was I kidding, anyways?  I didn't want to leave to begin with-I was
mainly saying that to be polite in case wanted me to leave.
	"Okay, but I really need to get to bed now.  After all, I am a
lowly intern and need to be there on time, awake, alert, and in top for to
impress my bosses and my clients tomorrow," I said fighting his efforts to
keep me on the couch, and through using a last resort of giving him a
'jumper-cable' to the side (I make it my business not to tickle others for
I am very ticklish, and it always causes people to want sweet revenge) did
he release my wrist from his vise-like grip.
	"No you don't, you just need to look cute in my sheets.  Are there
any colors that don't go with your skin tone that I should know of?" he
joked, playfully rubbing my stomach as I sat on the edge of the couch and
he remained on his back.
	"Yes, because that would really help me advance at the Harris
Group," I said chuckling at his comment and gulping down the last of the
wine left in my abandoned glass-bad wine-o!
	"Eh, I'll just make a phone call and not only will you be excused
from being late, but I'll get you a raise and a nicer office," he stated
nonchalantly.
	I merely laughed in response.
	"What? Do you not believe me?" he asked with a fake look of hurt.
	"No, I don't believe you."
	"How the mighty have fallen!  Here I was thinking that I had led
you to believe that my powers as a lobbyist had Congress and the President
eating out of the palm of my hand, and thus I was the most powerful man in
the universe-the ultimate Washingtonian," he said sarcastically sitting up
with a sigh and then a playful grin.
	"Please, I may be an impressionable political junkie, but I did not
just fall of the turnip truck," was my response.
	"It's a good thing too, I wouldn't want your cute butt getting
bruised," he said quietly as his face moved closer to mine.
	"You really like my butt, don't you."
	"It's one of the cutest I've seen in a while.  Now one last kiss
and the lets go to bed," he whispered into my ear sending chills down my
spine.
	"Sounds good to me," I replied faintly.
	Our 'one last kiss' lasted almost fifteen minutes before we made it
off the couch and up the stairs to his bedroom.  He turned on the light and
then went into the bathroom while I B lined it for the bed.  I managed to
stay awake while he did his nightly ritual of brushing his teeth, peeing,
etcetera, and when he finished we swapped positions.  After I peed, I
noticed that there was a packaged toothbrush on the sink and after asking
Hunter, I was told it was in fact for me-such attention to detail.  Many
brush strokes and a splash of water to my face later, I exited to find one
of the sexiest sights I've ever beholden-Hunter lying in bed shirtless, the
sheets pulled up to his stomach, with his glasses on reading what I assumed
was an e-mail on his Blackberry.
	"Hey there sexy, you ready for bed?" he greeted looking over at me
as I walked out of the bathroom.
	"You have no idea," I said unbuckling my belt, and letting my
shorts fall to the floor.  Hunter at first was paying attention to his
Blackberry, but as I began to pull my t-shirt off up over my head his
attention focused back on me and he watched with an eager grin on his lips.
	"Cute underwear," he said commenting on my blue Dolce & Gabbana
trunks-they aren't briefs, but aren't quite boxer-briefs-as I walked around
the bed.
	"Thanks, I got them in Italy this Spring," I replied climbing under
the covers.
	"I'm going to have to get myself a few pairs," he stated as I moved
next to him, then kissed me on the lips and returned his attention back to
his Blackberry.  I laid there content, my mind clear of thoughts, all I was
aware of at that moment was the sounds of our breathing, the slight hum of
the air conditioning, and the noises of his Blackberry.  After a couple
minutes he put his toy down, and rolled away from me and began to press the
buttons of his alarm clock, then he stopped and rolled back over to face my
direction.
	"Wait, what time to do you have to be up tomorrow?" he asked.
	"Well...I have to be at work at 9:00-and I really have to be on
time tomorrow-so I need to be home at 8:00 to have time to shower and get
dressed, which means I need to be up at 7:30?" I thought aloud.
	"Shit, what's tomorrow?"
	"Thursday, why?" I replied.
	"Fuck, I have the trainer tomorrow morning.  Shit, I should have
been in bed hours ago," he said looking back over at the clock and the
looming 1:57.  "Let me call him and cancel," he said picking up his
Blackberry and left a voicemail saying that something came up and he needed
to cancel, but to still charge him for the session, and he'd see them
Tuesday morning.  With that he set the alarm, and then we were blanketed in
darkness.  As I closed my eyes and began to wait for sleep to envelop me, I
felt Hunter's arm wrap around me stomach and pull me against his chest.
His lips found my neck and he kissed me ever so softly three times before
whispering into my ear.
	"Good night, cutie," came his voice as it passed gently by my ear.
	"Good night, Hunter."

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