<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2Fimages%2FSDhhNr&amp;hash=d2d06d38a9c97dcc2e146eb8c0c78c2a" href="https://goo.gl/images/SDhhNr" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank"><u>Scott</u></a>was walking through the halls of the<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FLongworth_House_Office_Building&amp;hash=1697d53001485d9e937fa2e09bdfc107" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Longworth_House_Office_Building" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank"><u>Longworth House Building</u></a>. It was a Saturday morning. It had been just a little over six weeks since he had taken the oath of office, since he had been installed as a representative for Nevada’s third congressional district. It had been a tough campaign. Carson city and its surroundings were usually staunchly Republican, he had been given little chance as a Democrat to win the district. In the time of partisan politics, most of the campaign had been a smear exercise for the other side of the aisle. The last representative had been in Congress for over sixteen years.<br/><br/>The narrative of change had been running through the whole election. Clinton had been campaigning hard to win the state, but Scott Bander had distanced himself from the nation wide election, trying to steer away from national heavyweights to join his campaign. The third district was the only one in Nevada which hadn’t seen Democrats out of DC in the campaign. The Republicans had done everything to make it a national test between the presidential candidates, trying to steer away from the quality of the incumbent representative. But the image, of an elder man, who had seemed out of touch with the current times (internet, Twitter, the wishes of young people) and the way the Republican establishment gave away jobs to those who propped up power was a stickler. A hint of pay-for-play from the representative to local companies was another bonus. It seemed the incumbent had renovated his ranch and gardens on the cost of a few local companies who had gotten Federal projects in return.<br/><br/>He had started with a bare bones campaign. A crowded field of hopefuls, some with their own money to back their campaign. But not he. The ex-marine had resigned from the Corps just because he wanted to try and take the seat. He was young, 35 years, had no experience in politics, but had gone out of the Corps as a Major. His military experience, his good looks, his eloquence when working a crowd and the commanding presence all helped. A record of bravery serving in Iraq, Afghanistan and even a run in Syria against ISIL. One of his primary opponents had gotten a deference for serving, the Republican incumbent had gotten the same for Vietnam.<br/><br/>When he started, he had ran his campaign out of his pick-up truck. Parking downtown in each little community, talking to as many people as he could. He hadn’t called it a ‘listening campaign’, cause that would bring a vision of tailored politics, but effectively it was. A debate in the primary field had meant he had gotten name recognition. His good looks meant he scored high favourables with women. His history of service had meant he was a candidate to vote for to many of the male populace too.<br/><br/>After that first primary debate, there she was. At a local truck stop a woman had spoken to him. Had asked him questions about his campaign, how he ran it, what his outlook organisation wise was. Not so much a discussion about the policies and decisions he wished to change in DC. She had told him, she was sure he would win the seat. That she wanted to work for him. She had been… distracting. To say the least. An hourglass figure, a pretty face, lips that would look perfect wrapped around his c… ugh. But he had to stay professional, of course. So she had joined his little bandwagon of one. Making it a campaign of two. Her eagerness, looks and skills had opened doors to communities that had been closed before. He had even gotten invited to a few of the rural communities.<br/><br/>It was still a barebones campaign though. With little to no cash. He didn’t accept money from the national party, from Super PACs, from companies. He only wanted people from his own congressional district to chip in. So the first week she had joined him, they had even shared a motel room a few times. More than once he had seen a skimpy little thong dumped on the bathroom floor, wondering how that firm ass would look in just that frilly piece of clothing. He had even shared a bed once, when there was no couch available. It had meant his training as a Marine had saved him. He had made sure he would stay silent and wouldn’t move an inch as that pretty form settled into the matrass next to him. So close he could just raise his hand to smack that ass as she turned her back to him. Nothing had happened. Though he had been bulging his tight boxers most of the night… perhaps she had even seen it when he had slipped out to the bathroom. In the end, the level of frustration had grown to such an extent that he had stroked that cock in the bathroom, stifling his moans with a towel between his teeth, the only thing he could do to get some sleep.<br/><br/>On election night they had a group of volunteers, mostly her doing, in Carson city. People had been so enamoured by his campaign, so enthusiastic about the change he envisioned, so thrilled that he would try to break away from the cartel of Republicans from the old boys network who held all positions of power in the district, that they had eagerly volunteered. Of course, being headed by a so called Chief of Staff who looked like she had come down from heaven… was only to entice them even more. Probably more than one volunteer had made a pass at her. Perhaps it would mean she would flirt with the candidate himself a little less… and god… he needed that. They had a certain amount of banter between them which bordered on something inappropriate.<br/><br/>They had been together, in a back room as the first results came in. Waiting to see if it would be a victory speech or not. That first result was already a blow-out in his favour. She, on her high heels, just a little shorter than he, had jumped into his arms. They had hugged so close. That soft cleavage pressed against his chest. His right hand just above her round rear, on her lower back, holding her tight. When he had whispered his thanks their faces so close. He had nearly kissed her when they were interrupted by a knock. He was sure she had felt that thick bulge against her lower stomach. But… that was all forgotten when the party with all those volunteers started.<br/><br/>Now… they were settled in DC. The first week they had shared an apartment with some roommate she had picked up. It had been tough to get any sort of living space. But she had arranged a small apartment for him downtown, which only freed up two days after his installation. Some member of the House who hadn’t been as lucky. So he had slept on the couch for two nights. When he saw her living arrangement, he had wondered. Apparently Imari and Skylar slept in the same bed. He was sure, somewhere during the first night he had heard a stifled moan, skin slapping skin, with whimpers coming out of their bedroom. He had even listened at the door. That, and another encounter with skimpy little underwear… high heels, short skirts… the two nights had been pure torture. The second night… he had again stroked that cock in the bathroom, not being able to hold back.<br/><br/>The brunette was the perfect polar opposite to the blonde. Where she seemed more refined, Skylar seemed more rough. Where Imari was gentle, Skylar was loud. The brunette openly flirted with him. He was sure walking to the kitchen in just a short nighty was done on purpose. He was glad he could leave the house two days after. Somehow… it had felt like a close call.<br/><br/>In the two months that followed Imari had all the staff he had hired. She was his chief of staff, his secretary, his personal assistant and joined him when he headed back to Nevada for talks with voters. They had started up this team effort to make sure he would keep his campaign promises. A more conservative styled democrat, he would sometimes break away from party leadership, but he was already making a name for himself. As an example of how the Democratic party could be shaped also, instead of just going far left of center. The partisan politics in Washington had left a huge void on any middle ground. Everything was politics, instead of trying to make sense and going for the best solutions.<br/><br/>Imari had commented on her roommate once or twice. It was probably the reason that nothing ever happened between her and himself. Perhaps she was more interested in women instead of males. The banter and flirting had always remained, though when others were around she showed a constant air of professionalism. A few weeks ago Imari had told him Skylar was looking for a new job. He hadn’t really responded. The suggestion was repeated a few times over the weeks. And now… in the end, he had given in. This Saturday morning, she would come in for a quick interview. Imari had too much work on her plate. And as he had been asked to join a couple of comitees which were busy with the Department of Defense budget and military Intelligence, work would only pile up more. She was sure Skylar could help out.<br/><br/>He had taken his motorcycle to work that morning. It meant he had dressed more casual too. A Saturday with no official meetings, so he had adorned jeans, white sneakers, a white t-shirt showing off that muscled chest and a brown leather jacket. In his hands three cups of coffee, he knew Imaris favourite from Starbucks, and he thought he had remembered correctly for Skylar too… he was grinning as he stepped into the side office where Imari usually occupied one of the three desks.