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Somebody Take Me Drunk...

By: Pultoy



I've found an editor at long last, and I am so sure we are a good fit. I welcome curiousss on board. This is the first story he has edited, and I can tell how much more readable, how much smoother the story goes with his apt hand applied. I do want to say that after receiving his final edited version, I still tinkered a little with the story. So, if you find anomalies they can be attributed to me. Thanks to curiousss for his time and effort.

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Those damned Rockies! They do it every time. You let them build you up - "This is going to be an interesting season. We have some raw talent. It just depends if these guys actually want to make a career out of baseball. They certainly have the skills, it's just a question of whether they want to put them to use or not," said the team manager, again, this year.

Then they slam-dunk you! "Well Bret, it's like this - those Giants are a very talented team and they have put it all together this year, going, what, 30-25 so far this season. We just need to continue to improve...yada, yada, yada."

Here I am, a season ticket holder, having paid $2665 for sixty-one home games at club level. There's a pretty good crowd of ticket-holders around me, and we've become friends over the years. There is always a spread of food and booze in the club level, so everyone makes a party of each game.

It seems we always drink a little more when the Rocks are losing, to drown our sorrows, but then we tend to drink just a little more when they are winning, to celebrate their great prowess.

Yeah, it pretty much is just an excuse to get shit faced –

"I drink to your health when we're together

I drink to your health when I'm alone

In fact, I've drunk to your health so often lately

I've begun to worry about my own."

I dunno, somebody said it. I was a little too drunk to remember, but I do remember hearing it and laughing my ass off.

The Rocks lost to the lowly Padres that night four to two. We'd had a party, I mean a real party. All the others in the club level had girlfriends or wives, so they went home together. It was eleven pm, the game had ended at eight. We'd partied on for hours and here I was puking in the parking lot beside my pickup.

I was on my hands and knees, too drunk to stand or walk, so I had to drive! There was no way I would be able to walk to a bus stop.

I was on my knees, puke down the front of my shirt, leaning against my pickup, fumbling with the keys, trying to find the right one to unlock the door. I'd dropped them in my own puke. That made things real pleasant.

I heard the sound of voices, but not like they were right close. It was so strange; "Denver 131, I'll be out with Colorado ADP-735, a Red Chevrolet Silverado Pickup in the Rockies' Parking lot, structure C space 325. Man on the ground." This was a female voice.

"131 Denver, 10-4 do you need backup?"

"Denver 131, negative at this time, looks to be an intoxicated man trying to get in his vehicle. Will advise."

I saw the pretty red and blue lights swirling all around me. I saw this hot looking female cop walking towards me, flashlight in her hand, shining on and around me. My body and head were leaning back on my pickup. I was helpless; I could not get up, I just couldn't do much of anything except look.

"What do we have here?" the cop asks. "You been drinkin' at the Rockies game tonight?"

"Mayyybe a li'l." I replied, sounding surprisingly sober I thought.

"Looks like you threw up all over yourself, sir. Do you have any identification?"

"Yes, ma'am. Here..." I reached for my back pocket to get my wallet and fell over, hitting my head on the pavement.

"OK, never mind, I'll get it. Is it in here, in your pocket?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," I said, my cheek lying in this puddle of cold vomit.

"OK Mr. ...Scott Gary Roberts," Officer Victoria Newland said, "Can you stand up?"

"I own't think sho." I replied.

"Scott, you are way too drunk to drive or be out in public. You are a danger to yourself, so I am going to have a paddy wagon come take you to the drunk tank and let you dry out for the night," she told me.

"No, take me drunk, I think I'm home," I begged.

She laughed. "No Scott, you'd stink up my cruiser and I have to live in that thing tonight, so you'll be ok, just hang on."

I woke up in a foul smelling 20x20 cell with 13 other foul smelling drunks. They had puked on themselves, shit their pants, pissed their pants and generally made messes of themselves. Of course, I didn't need to be treated like this; I have money, I'm not a common drunk. Just because I'd shit my pants doesn't mean I'm like them!

My head hurt so bad I wondered if I'd had a hemorrhage. My cotton-mouth was so dry I'd have considered drinking urine. The dried vomit on my clothes, face and hands was repulsive. The sticky wad in my shorts, running down the back of my legs, was horrible. If I could ever find a shower, I may never leave it.

Around 10 am they opened the cell and processed us all out. I was miles from my pickup, on the streets outside the Denver City Jail and no way, except walking, to get anywhere.

When they gave me back the contents of my pockets at the time of arrest, I had my billfold with six hundred thirty four dollars, credit cards and ID, my keys, a pocket knife and part of a roll of LifeSavers. I put the LifeSaver's into my mouth all at once and started the mushy walk down the street toward Coors Field. I walked into a 7-11 along the way to buy a bottle of juice and the clerk refused to serve me because I looked and smelled so bad.

No cab would have me; I was going to have to walk. Maybe I could get a bus.

Then, the strangest thing happened - the cop who had arrested me, Officer Victoria Newland, pulled up in her personal car, honked and got out, wearing street clothes.

"Scott, let me give you a ride back to your truck," she said. "Just don't touch anything in my car. I have an old newspaper on the seat, sit on that and let's go."

I looked at her like a jackass looking through a gate.

"C'mon, get in," she urged.

"Thank you, thank you so much ma'am," I said. "I'm afraid I need a shower, I'm sorry about smelling your car all up."

"We'll just roll down the windows. Scott, do you know what you said to me last night, while we were waiting for the paddy wagon?" she asked.

"Uhm, not really, I hope I didn't insult you."

"No, you said, 'Take me drunk, I think I'm home.'"

"Oh, I guess I got a little mixed up," I replied.

"Anyhow, I got to thinking about the irony of your statement - kind of funny on the surface but tragic underneath. I've been thinking about you all night. You're a young guy, nice looking, have money in your pocket. Where're you headed?"

"I just wanna get my car, officer. Thanks for the ride," I deflected.

"Scott, I got off at six am, then dragged my ass out of bed at nine forty five to be here for your release and I'm going to ask you to talk to me," she insisted.

"I'm just hung-over, had a big party after the Rockies game last night, that's all," I said.

"I checked your record. You've had one DUI, one arrest for public intoxication and one arrest for fighting. I imagine that, if you've been arrested, you've gotten away several times for each one. Do you have a wife, parents, family?" she queried.

"Naw, I'm alone; caught my wife in our bed with her little brother and her dad; that was a little bit more than I was expecting, so I divorced her. Other than that, nobody." I said gloomily.

"Oh Scott! I'm so sad to hear that, but you need to get over it. You can't throw your life away just because she let you down. You're young, very good looking and you have lots going for you.

Here we are at your truck. Scott, if you want to get some help, I can give you a name and a number," she offered.

"Yeah, that would be nice, thanks officer and, thanks for the ride," I said.

She took out a piece of paper from her purse, wrote something on it and pressed it into my hand.

"Call this number before you take your next drink, Scott. Someone who can help you will answer."

"OK thanks," I said, without looking at the paper, "thanks again for the ride." I was glad to get the ride, but so glad to get away from the 'pushing me to get help' stuff.

I needed to remember to clean the seat of my pickup before I used it again. I got home and went in, finally to get my shower. Oh, those were some nasty clothes.

As I undressed, I looked at my clothes, thought about my condition and what a mess of my life I'd made. Truly, since Dottie and I split, I have wandered aimlessly. This is not acceptable; shitty pants, puke all over me and my clothes, arrested again – I've got to get some help. I don't need those fucking Rockies anyhow, and that is the place to start. I decided I needed to break the pattern, as the hot water flooded over me, washing chunks of puke out of my hair and the smell of dried sweat off my body along with the mashed shit from between my cheeks and down the back of my legs.

I fixed myself some bacon. Then I made some cream gravy from the grease and put a pan of canned biscuits in the oven. I fried three eggs and sat down with bacon and eggs, biscuits and gravy and I drank a quart of orange juice. That helped.

I saw the piece of paper, which the police officer had pressed into my hand, lying on the dresser. Picking it up, I wanted to see what she'd written. It was only a phone number - no name, nothing else.

When I was growing up, I'd always thought that if someone's habits got so bad that other people actually took the trouble and cared enough to talk to that person about them, it was worth a hard look. The offending person owed it to himself, at least, to listen to the complainer. Then, a little self-examination probably would be in order.

I dialed the number.

"Hello, this is Victoria," was the answer.

"Oh, um, uh, Officer Newland; um, this is S-Scott, Scott Roberts."

"I didn't think you'd call, Scott. I am surprised you called so soon. Made a decision, have you?" she asked.

"You are right - everything you said! I called this number to see about a program, or something," I offered.

She explained, "Scott, there's something special about you. I am not licensed to treat you; I am not a professional counselor. I am just a cop. I became a cop to help people and I spend way too much time just processing crimes, chasing criminals and doing paperwork. I thought a lot about you this morning and last night. I want to reach a hand out to you and see if we can find some place inside of you that I can meet you, to sort through the things that are dragging you down, maybe help you back up. Whaddya think?"

"Whu-uh...Mmm...I...why me? What do you want to do to me?"

"You still have a few choices left Scott but time marches on and, if your heavy drinking continues, your choices will become more and more limited. First, at some point you may hurt someone, you may lose your freedom, you may lose your own life, lots of things could, and some things will, happen. Your future is headed in a bad direction," she said, then added, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it's just the way it is. It'd be good for you to take a little stock of things."

"Yeah, I know," I replied quietly, somberly, "and you want to help me? Take stock? I mean, why me and why you?"

"Like I said, I wanted to be a cop to make a difference, and I'm not making a difference, I am just chasing my tail. It's a big step for me too, Scott. I am taking a chance and, if you fail, I'll fail...so, I'm kinda layin' it on the line, too." She spoke with revelation in her voice...her own awakening taking place as she explained the meaning of her intentions.

"Wow! It's like, like an angel is fluttered down into my life and -" 

I was unable to finish my sentence.

Victoria cried too. An emotional bond was beginning to form. It was a good thing, because it would be needed.

"So, let's meet and set out some ideas and thoughts. Both of us need to be exposed here if we are going to be successful. For me, my intention is to get you to be aware of whatever demons drive you. I want to expose yourself to you. The only way I know of doing that is to just begin small and help you relax. I'll share myself with you; you won't be on any exam table, because I'll be out there for you to pick at if that's what you want," she said thoughtfully.

"OK, well, when are you working, when are you available?" I asked. "Since I have my trust fund, I really can do this any time of day or night, any day of the week," I added, then thought about her time.

"Am I going to be paying you for this?" I asked.

"I'll need to get you a copy of my schedule. Nope, no pay; this is something I'm volunteering. I could have picked anyone, and I picked you, so we go into this equal. I am offering my time, my heart and my best thoughts for you; you need to commit to offer your honest appraisal of life as you are experiencing it, to take things as they come honestly and deal with them openly," she said.

"My reward from this will be to see you be successful in life. To help you stare down discouragement and anger and whatever drags you down. If you begin to live successfully, you'll make my day."

We met at Village Inn restaurants, mostly because they have great coffee and free pie on Wednesdays if you buy something off the regular menu. It was just an excuse really - meeting in public while trust was being established was the best thing for us both.

Let me tell you a little about Victoria; she is a tall woman, six feet one inch with a lean, muscular build; but in her uniform she seems to be of medium build.

Cops have to wear bullet proof vests under their shirts so it makes her look thicker; they carry utility belts with a .40 caliber handgun, 2 extra magazines, flashlight, expandable night stick, handcuffs, a can of mace, 2-way radio, and a stun gun. So, when fully decked out in Denver's PD's dark blues, she looks like she weighs in at about one hundred eighty or one hundred ninety pounds. In truth, she weighs one hundred sixty five pounds, she has a soft and supple skin, but she is lean and in shape. She has muscular legs, strong shoulders and a flat belly; she is in excellent physical condition and knows how to fight. 

She's a student of Marshall Arts and can put a man half again bigger than her on the ground before he knows what hit him. She's not infallible but she is smart.

She has C cup breasts that she keeps well bound when in uniform, just past her shoulder length blonde hair, which she keeps in a bun when working, and she does not shave her body, anywhere. 

She has a full blonde pubic bush, silky hair on her legs and delicious armpit hair that is thick and bushy blonde. Trailing down from her belly button to her pubic bone is a blonde path of fine filament-like hair that is extremely sensitive to her. It is one of her secrets, that 'it drives her wild if somebody blows on that and nuzzles her there gently.'

Nobody on the force knows these things because she is always totally covered up when working; it is her secret.

Victoria is from a Montana clan and has four brothers, she being the one girl, and she's the youngest in the family. Her dad still works in a large open pit mine there. Her mom owns her own house-cleaning business and makes as much as most men around their town.

They are pure blue-collar people and are the salt of the earth. They work very hard, they love one another devotedly and they are very proud of their baby, Victoria. 

Her older brothers are protective, but they've always picked on her mercilessly, playing boyhood pranks on her and yet they were all for one and one for all. 

She could play a mean prank herself, every one of her brothers received payback for whatever price he exacted from his sister, and payback was double, at least. Victoria made her mark, giving as good as she got. It thickened her hide and honed her senses

One thing about Victoria, she knows men. She loves men. Her best friends are all men, her brothers. 

It would be a mistake to think that Victoria Newland is a dyke. She is girly, loves men, wants a husband and family, it's just that she is six feet one, strong, athletic, on to male tricks and has been raised around older brothers. Most men are intimidated by her, or aren't aware of her sensitivities. She has "Next door girl" wholesome good looks and is twenty-seven years old.

I am six feet four inches, sandy hair, green eyes, weigh two hundred twenty five pounds and have a muscular build. I've been told that I'm hot looking, but I'm suffering a pretty severe case of lack of self-esteem since I found my wife fucking around on me with her dad and brother. I am not even going there.

I have an inheritance and am not pressed for cash or for anything in this life, except for a girlfriend. I am probably an alcoholic, at only 29 years old. My mom died six years ago from cervical cancer. My dad died of a gunshot wound. He was a stock broker and one of his clients, who'd lost everything and blamed my dad, shot him to death as he left his office building in downtown Denver ten years ago.

They were pretty well to do anyhow, and had large life insurance policies, annuities and 'financial depth,' as it's called. I am an only child, so I inherited a great deal of wealth. I guess I started drinking after that, and then the divorce escalated things even more.

"So, Scott, what do you see for yourself? Who are you? Where are you headed?" Victoria asked me.

"I dunno. Guess I'm sort of a loser. Don't have much direction. I think I need a good woman, but I'd be a lousy choice for her, so that isn't likely. There are lots of loser women out there, but they're worse than me. I need somebody who's better, stronger than me, I guess." I honestly appraised myself.

"Ok, but do you expect some strong woman to come along and make you better? Don't you have to take responsibility for your own self, so you do have something to offer someone?" she asked.

"Yeah, I just can't seem to get started. It's easier to just get drunk," I said.

"Well, that's honest, I appreciate that. Scott, you should try and break your cycle of destructive behavior. Stop hanging around with those who always want to get drunk, or party," she opined.

"I know, I thought about that in the shower that day you took me home. Hey, I haven't had a drink since that night you picked me up." 

"Where have you been? What have you been doing?"

"Just staying close to home, not going to the games, not hanging around the bars or seeing my old friends. Some of them have called, but I haven't answered the phone when I see it's them."

"I'm off for the next 3 days. Do you want to do something together?" she asked.

"Um, yeah, sure; what?"

"Let's go skiing. We can go up to Winter Park or Eldorado or even Vail if you want."

"Wow, I haven't been skiing in years, since I was in high school. That'd be a kick in the pants. Let's do it." I said.

Though the Rockies were playing, it was late May and the Colorado High Country had had extraordinary snow storms all season. There was still snowpack in the high country ski resorts and they thought they would be open until Memorial Day, at least; maybe a week longer into June even. 

I asked Victoria to call and get reservations, giving her my Diamond American Express Card. She was only able to book one room, but it had 2 beds in it, and we got weekend passes, so we could ski for 2 days unlimited. We were off to Vail resort.

I let Victoria drive my Silverado. She seemed a bit anal retentive about car wrecks and driving. She'd seen some nasty car crashes and was a nervous rider. No problem for me, I was glad to let her drive and enjoy the scenery. I was actually having fun. I think she was too, a little anyhow.


Somebody Take Me Drunk... Ch. 02



Somebody Take Me Drunk, I Think I'm Home. Chapter 02

The road to the White House

I'd turned down the offer to run for United States Senate from Colorado in the second half of my second four year term as Governor of Colorado. I'd be term limited out as Governor, unable to run for a third term, though my approval ratings approached eighty percent within the state, even after seven years and some tough decisions.

My wife, Victoria was having a wildly successful career as Division Chief of Detectives for the Denver Police Department. I couldn't ask her to leave her fulfilling job and move to Washington, D.C. and I would not be able to bear being apart from her. 

Some things began occurring during that time, though, that changed the fate of us both. More than just us, it would affect the entire United States, even the whole world.

A scandal broke in the winter of my seventh year in office. Not a scandal in the Governor's office, a scandal in the Denver Police Department. The feds had conducted a sting operation, and swept up twenty two detectives, sixty one uniformed patrol and twelve supervising officers from the Denver Police Department. 

Racketeering charges, corrupt police practices and a host of bribery, lying, and cheating charges were filed. Ninety five total officers were suspended, fired or quit. The federal court dockets were filled with cases of police corruption.

Victoria had been chief of detectives and some of her officers were involved. She, herself was clean, no fingers pointed her direction, no invectives directed at her, no suspicions ever noted regarding her actions or decisions.

Victoria was, however a prime candidate for throwing under the bus, cleaning house, exonerating the Chief of Police and the Mayor, so she was asked to resign. As a supervisor, they charged that she should have had a handle on her people and when she did not, she was expendable. Heads had to roll and hers was only one of them. 

About that time, it became public knowledge that President Mitt Romney and Vice President Michele Bachman had had a heated exchange in the hallways of the west wing of the White House. 

Bachman was decidedly more conservative than Romney and she supposedly challenged the President on two or three major policy differences. Apparently they'd been cool towards one another for some time and the explosion between them occurred in front of staffers. 

It went viral in one hour. The news of their donnybrook was the headline of the next months.

Romney was entering the cycle of his second term Presidential bid. The primaries were under way and the Democrats were eating this news and Romney for lunch. 

I received an eleven PM phone call from the White House Operator, "Governor Roberts?"

"Yes." I blinked into the dark, reaching for my bedside lamp.

"One moment, sir, for the President."

"Governor, this is Mitt Romney, I'm sorry to bother you so late at night, can I have a few moments of your time?"

"Good evening, Mr. President. Of course; it is eleven here, but one AM there, isn't it, sir?" I replied. Victoria blinked at me in the brightness of the bedside lamp. "Is everything ok, sir?" I said.

"Governor, I have a situation on my hands and I need your help. By now, you've heard of the defugalties between the Vice President and me last month." He said.

"Um, yes sir, I have. It is unfortunate to be sure, Mr. President." I replied, warily.

"Scott, I'm in a tough race for reelection. Michele and I are going to part ways at the end of this term; I need a replacement for her on the ticket. My staff has done extensive research on you out there in the West, we are politically compatible, and Colorado is a swing state, you are a popular Governor, I need you on my team." He intoned.

"Scott, I am asking you to give some serious thought to becoming my running mate." President Romney told me.

"Mr. President...I, I'm shocked, sir. I don't know what to say." I hesitated.

"No need to answer tonight, Scott. Give this some thought. I can't announce this too early anyhow, so we'll go public in July just before the convention. I have two other possibilities that I'm considering, but you are at the top of the list. I want you to seriously consider the service of your country here, Governor." The President extolled. "Will you do that?"

"Mr. President, I'll discuss this with my wife. I'll give your words serious thought. Regardless of what I decide, sir, I thank you for the generous thought and your confidence." I replied.

"You're a good man, Governor; I know we'll get along great. You have nearly two great terms in office, you have two terms as a Colorado State Senator, you are a wounded hero, and you are ready for the big leagues. The people love you out there and they'll love you all over our land." The President said.

"I won't keep you any longer tonight; let's talk again in a few days. Oh, Governor, please don't say a word to anyone about this phone call for the time being, is that ok?" He asked.

"I need to discuss this with my wife, sir. Without her on board, there is no further need to discuss anything." I said firmly.

"Of course; I wasn't talking about your family, Scott. I mean your staff or the papers or television reporters or that sort of thing. Let's keep this under our hats for the time being, with the exception of Victoria, ok?" He replied.

I was shocked that he even knew my wife's name. "Of course, thank you Mr. President. Good night, then." And I hung up the phone.

I sat there in bed, looking into the darkness of the room like a jackass staring through a gate, my mouth open, my mind frozen in the moment.

Victoria had heard my side of the conversation and much of what the President had said, she was lying right next to my head as he and I spoke, she could hear through the speaker of the receiver next to my ear.

Victoria, too, was silent. With the pressures of her job, the request for her resignation, the times were ripe for change in our lives. We were ready for change and we didn't even realize it would come seeking us.

We spoke not a word. I rolled over and kissed my beautiful wife. She returned the kiss with passion. Her need to be loved was extra keen at this difficult time, and my desire for the security of her arms was extra keen at this daunting time.

Victoria slid her thigh between my legs as we kissed; she rubbed her warm pudenda on my naked leg, moaning into my mouth, writhing in my arms. I responded to her passion with an erection hard enough to cut glass, poking her hip. I licked her lips and the roof of her mouth, my tongue dueled with hers, we exchanged moans. 

She touched my hard root with her strong hand, encircling it and pumping. I smelled her great need, she asked me to stick it in and as I rolled over onto her, I let her guide me into her warm folds. 

In one smooth stroke I was buried in my loving wife, she urged me on, putting her hands through my arms and at the back of my shoulders, legs splayed on either side of my torso. I pumped, grinding the top of my cock on her clitoris; she began ascending to her orgasm with increasing speed.

I bottomed out, inside her and she gasped. A stifled scream escaped her lips. She knew a loud scream would bring a Colorado State Patrolman crashing in on us, weapon at the ready. We both stifled giggles.

My Chief of Detectives and I, the Governor of Colorado, mated there in the master bedroom of the Governor's Mansion until dawn. When we had to finally pee, we disconnected and I called down to the kitchen for two bowls of fruit and a pot of coffee with two cups.

We had needed to reconnect. The pressures of both our offices, our responsibilities were great and we needed one another now more than ever. And, we always had needed one another badly.

I decided to take this Friday off, cancelling my appointments through my inter office voice mail to my staff. Victoria also called in and announced she'd not be in. Her boss, the Chief of Police called, demanded to talk to her, but we were insulated by the Governor's staff and she'd shut off her cell phone. We needed a day or two and now was the time to take it.

For, that which would follow would be daunting, indeed.

Our weekend shut away in the Governor's Mansion was spent mostly naked, mostly in bed. We did dress late on Sunday morning and walked to a Village Inn nearby for a feast of Banana Nut Pancakes, eggs, sausages, coffee and orange juice. We went incognito and nobody recognized either one of us. It was fun; occasionally we tried to get out and among the people unnoticed. We'd become pretty good at it, not getting caught even once.

There was great pressure in the air the following Monday morning as Victoria Roberts, the first lady of Colorado and the Chief of Detectives of the Denver Police Department, marched into the office of her boss. 

The Federal District Attorneys were ruthless in their prosecutions of the police department. But, Victoria was without blood on her hands, she had no nervousness for herself. Those around her, many of them, did have great nervousness. 

She had met with trusted colleagues, she had led an in depth investigation about the alleged corruption scandal herself, and when she entered her bosses office, she had two of her most trusted lieutenants with her. 

"Chief, you are under arrest. I am placing you under arrest for corruption, accepting bribes and racketeering. Hand over your weapon and your shield, sir." Victoria said to her boss, Chief of Police Derwood Patrick.

"Detective Roberts, what the fuck are you..." he exasperated.

The two lieutenants took either arm, twisted them around behind him and cuffed him. They patted him down, removing the contents of his pockets. Victoria advised him of his constitutional rights and then dialed the chief Federal prosecutor from the chief's own phone, on his desk, and announced that they, the Feds, needed to come take into custody her prisoner in the matter that they were investigating.

Nobody expected this. Not the Feds, not the Mayor not the police department. Victoria is a consummate professional and she did her job. When she got wind of the corruption, she launched her investigation, privately, quietly. Not knowing who she could trust throughout the department, she only confided in her closest allies.

Her discretion, her experience and her tenacity paid off. The U.S. Department of Justice had concluded the same results as Victoria, but they were slower to act and she got the rat. She turned all her findings over to the Feds that day.

The police department was in a ruinous heap. Morale was at low ebb, the ranks were depleted because of the arrests, firings and resignations, and those left to carry the load were overburdened. 

Victoria held a meeting of the Denver Police Department Protective Services Association, as acting Police Chief. She spoke to the officers and asked for their cooperation while the sorting out took place. Many of those men and women were her peers and had backed her up, or she they at one time or another. As usual, they only had each other in their jobs. They'd make do.

The mayor asked Victoria to assume the Chief of Police Position as permanent Chief. 

Without even thinking for a moment, she replied, "No, sir. I am not interested at all. I'll tender my resignation to you right now, effective one year from today. Until then, I'll serve as your acting Chief. If you find one sooner, my resignation will be effective then." Handing him her letter, she turned and walked away from the mayor of Denver at that.

Victoria had been betrayed. Betrayed by the mayor, the chief and those in a position to do what was best for the department. But, now, Victoria had other fish to fry. Her husband may become the Vice President of the United States. He would need her and she intended to be there for him. It was time for a break. It was time.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

The Colorado Governor's office had received requests from the national media to speak to the growing swell of support for Scott Roberts to join President Romney's reelection quest. Not having decided and not having heard further from Romney, Governor Roberts refused all questions about the subject.

It was April, already, and the rift between the President and Vice President was growing. The party needed a healing force if it was going to remain in power.

Governor Roberts had held off answering President Romney. The President was becoming increasingly vulnerable to the hard right, and the left was always there firing their missives. Romney had finally asked Roberts again, pleaded with him, to accept the invitation to run for Vice President.

Victoria encouraged her husband to follow his conscience. She advised him that she was with him, whatever his decision. She let him know that she'd be free from her responsibilities at Denver PD no later than February the following year, just after inauguration. She offered to be his sounding board, and they often spent the evening or all day on a weekend talking about all the possibilities, liabilities and challenges.

Finally, "This is Governor Roberts of Colorado to speak to the President, please." Scott told the White House operator. There was but a few seconds of silence on the line.

And, then; "Governor, how are you. I am so glad to hear from you, do you have news for me?" The President spoke.

"Mr. President, it is wonderful to speak to you again also, sir. I do have news. Sir, if your offer still holds, I'd be proud to join your ticket as your running mate in November, for your second term as President of the United States as your Vice President."

"Thank God. Scott that is the best news I've had recently. I'll dispatch a team from the campaign to come to Denver and bring you up to speed on what is happening. I'd like for you to field some of those questions from the press. The team will discuss all this with you. We can announce together from the steps of the Denver Capitol next month, in June if you'd like." The President spoke breathlessly, obviously greatly relieved and excited.

"Very well, sir; but I thought you said we'd announce in July. This will really change my life right away," Scott laughed.

"The alligators smell blood in the water, Governor, I need reinforcements. You'll be a great help." The President confided.

There was great celebration in Colorado and on the steps of the Colorado State Capitol building that day in June when President Romney and Governor Roberts along with Ann and Victoria announced that the Governor would join the Republican ticket.

Victoria and Scott celebrated quietly that night. "Remember finding me in a puddle of vomit, my pants full of poop, my life in confusion, Vic? You, single handedly brought me out of the depths of defeat and destruction. Whatever is to be, you are the catalyst. Have I told you how much I love you, lately?" Scott asked Victoria as they sat on a porch swing quietly rocking back in forth embracing one another the the West Garden of the Mansion.

She didn't answer, just nuzzled into her husband's chest and increased her hug around his middle as they sat in the swing. She smiled to herself, full of satisfaction, happy that she'd done the things she did to encourage him.

He'd become her strength as well. For her, he was unlike any other man. He fulfilled her in a way others would not dream to do.

The Democrats selected Hillary Clinton as their Presidential Candidate and Diane Feinstein as Candidate for Vice President.

President Romney and Governor Roberts both thought the Democrats made a tactical error in judgment in doing that. They were right, as it turned out.

Governor Scott Roberts was sworn in as Vice President of the United States of America on January 20th, Victoria holding their Bible for him to swear his oath of office onto.

Romney/Roberts had swept to victory with a 54/45 margin over the Democrats. 1% went to 'others.' The Senate of the US was split 54/45 Republicans in majority with one Independent in residency. The US House of Representatives was split 225/206, plus 4 independents, also a 54/45 % split Republicans over Democrats. The country was divided exactly the same in these three areas of Government.

The mandate to govern was solid, though slim. The road would be rocky and fraught with battles over policy.

Victoria flew back to Denver after the inauguration ceremonies, resuming her duties as acting Chief of Police for three more weeks. 

The court cases against the ninety some officers hadn't gone well for the government over the past eleven months. Most of the available damning evidence pointed to the ex-chief of police and two of his deputies, and was exculpatory for most of the other officers accused. Some minor offenses were reported and acknowledged, but nothing as criminal, nothing as sinister as initially undertaken and accused by the Federal authorities. 

Reputations were destroyed, careers ruined and a whole city and state uprooted without just cause. It seemed political in nature as Romney and Roberts looked back upon it, with the Democrats in the Department of Justice trying to discredit Roberts before he even was up for office. They'd anticipated Romney's choice well, but the culpability just wasn't there. As it turned out, there wasn't enough dirt to fill in a grave in the department, except the Chief and two of his cohorts.

President Romney directed his Attorney General to appoint a Special Prosecutor to look into allegations of wrongdoing against the Dept. of Justice, itself. What a nest of wasps, indeed.

Victoria was begged by the Mayor and City Council to stay on as Chief of Police. She declined, absolutely, and left her office without replacement on the date that she had noted in her initial letter of resignation, one year earlier. She finished her business in Denver and moved to Washington, D.C. to be with her husband, the Vice President.

Denver Police Department finally hired a veteran of its' own ranks. He was recommended to the Mayor and council by Victoria before she departed and was one of the two men who had been with her that day that the previous Chief was arrested.

President Romney was being hounded day and night by the loyal Democratic opposition. The liberal press was in a full court press against him and he seemed paralyzed to act. Day after day week after week they carried unflattering stories and biased criticisms of the administration policies. Fair and balanced were not the order of the day for the media hounds.

The President asked the Vice President to breakfast every Wednesday morning. They cleared their calendars for two hours and spent those hours in communion with one another, talking candidly about the issues of the day.

It was July of the second year in office, in that second Romney term. The day was warm and humid, the President and Vice President were on the portico, having soft boiled eggs and Canadian bacon with hash browns and wheat toast, served with orange marmalade and coffee.

The two men had become warm friends and the President felt great affection for his team player and comrade Vice President Scott Roberts. 

"Scott, Ann and I are mulling something over. What I'm about to say is strictly between us and nobody else, ok?" the President asked.

"Mr. President, Victoria is my only confidant. Other than her, nobody knows anything of our relationship or our conversations and she is astutely competent to observe the parity of confidence." I replied.

"No, Scott, not even Victoria for now. I need to discuss something with you so sensitive that it must remain between us only."

"Sir, if you and Ann discuss it, surely you must understand the value of one, only one, trusted confidant. I will accede to your wishes, but I ask you to remember your own wife and what she means to you as your loyal friend and partner."




Somebody Take Me Drunk... Ch. 02



"Yes, you are right, Mr. Vice President. Very well, I acknowledge your point. Victoria alone is to be your only recipient of this information and she is to keep it to herself, understood?" the President insisted.

"Understood, Mr. President."

"Scott, after the first of the year, I am going to step down as President. You will become President on February first next year. I'll announce this on January first, giving your team one month to transition. Meanwhile, you and I will work together to prepare you for the rigors of office for the rest of this summer and fall." The President took me by surprise. 

"You'll have nearly two full years to set your house in order, establish your agenda, and then you can win two full terms as President."

"Mr. President, are you all right? What is the meaning of such a decision?" I asked stunned.

"You and Victoria are loved by the people, Scott. Ann and I are tired of this battle. The hounds of hell nip at us day and night and I'm frankly tired of this. I have done what I could for the country, but the divisive split started by Michele Bachman against me is not good for the nation. It will be best for you to lead us, you are not divisive, and you will do well. The people do love you." The President spoke. "You are more 'one of the people' that I have ever been able to establish."

I did not speak. I sat and looked deep into the haunted, tired eyes of the man who had brought me into power, who now was so graciously offering to step aside and aid the smooth transition for the good of the nation, rather than just his own. 

I was but forty six years old. I'd become a state senator at twenty eight, served eight years there. I was elected Governor and served eight years in that capacity. I would become President of the United States at forty seven years of age.

The Constitution provides for two terms as President and no more than ten years. I would enter office and serve as President for ten days shy of two years. If I was elected and reelected I would serve nine years, eleven months and twenty days as President of the United States. President Romney had thought this all out ahead of time and timed his actions accordingly.

I asked President Romney for some time away with my wife; to begin immediately. Romney agreed and his office quietly arranged for transportation for my wife and I to Colorado that afternoon. There'd be no fanfare, no motorcade. Just using plain cars we would return to our apartment above the 16th street mall in downtown Denver for five days, beginning that Wednesday afternoon.

"Honey, what is going on? The secret service told me to pack for a few days away." Victoria asked me as I walked into the official Vice President's residence, at the Naval Observatory, at noon.

"We need to talk, but I can't say anything until we are alone. We're going back to the apartment in Denver for a few days. Just hang on, we'll be alone and can talk then." 

--------------------------------------------------Special agent Darcy Wright was one of the secret service detail assigned to Victoria. I told Victoria to make a list of things we'd need for the apartment for a week and to send Darcy to King Soopers in Denver and buy them. We'd not want to be seen in Denver at all, and our entire days would be spent in the apartment or on the roof above in the open air. But, we couldn't afford to be down on the streets.

Darcy got our supplies and the secret service left us alone for four days, until Sunday morning, not seeing or talking to us. They lounged around outside the building in street clothes, keeping watch on the Vice President and his wife.

"Stand there, in the bathroom, like you did that first time fourteen years ago, Vic." I ordered.

She rose from her recliner in the living room and quietly pad into the bathroom standing by the large tub.

I removed her blouse, letting it fall to the floor. She blushed a little for me. I unfastened her brassiere; she raised her arms defensively a little, protecting her full breasts from my sight for a moment, then let them fall and the bra with it. 

I pulled her pants from the waist to the floor, no panties again? No panties again after all this time, she remembered, hoped for this very same action.

She stepped out of her clothes and into the warm water that had been running into the tub and she sat.

Our eyes did not depart one another's loving gaze, our lips frozen in grins of knowing, anticipation, excitement. I stepped into the tub, my erection bobbing in front of her face above her. She reached for it, I deflected her hands and sat, my cock bumping her as I did.

We kissed, our hands fondled beneath the water; we loved. I broke the kiss and poured her favorite shampoo into my hands, lathering her hair, scratching her scalp, caressing her blonde locks. 

I rinsed the shampoo from her hair and poured another handful into my palm, spreading my hands into her hair and the room filled with the fragrance of cleanness. I rinsed her hair and then I turned her body, pulled her back onto me and she rested her long torso on my chest and belly, between my legs. I reached over her shoulders and soaped her breasts, her belly and her pubic mound. She spread her legs inviting my caresses down there. I soaped at the junction of her legs with her torso, around her pussy, but not on it. She moaned in anticipation, I avoided it, washing her pubis, her thighs and back to her belly and breasts.

I pivoted her body on her ass, placing her legs over my shoulders and my legs alongside her hips. I soaped her little star, circling it and inserting a finger gently into it a short way. She paused, quietly, waiting for my continued ministrations to her body. I finally grabbed one of her labia and kneaded it between my thumb and fore finger. She humped, creating a splash of water outside the tub, her eyes watching me, heavily lidded and aroused.

I placed my thumb on her clit and pushed. She said, "Oooh!"

I pushed my finger inside her; there at the top of her opening, rubbing her g-spot gently, she was so wet. I removed my hands from her and kissed her.

I went to my knees in the tub and washed myself, my cock and balls, my ass, my legs and feet. Then I cleaned my torso and arms, my own hair and face, then I rinsed.

I stood and dried myself as she watched my every move, staring at my bobbing erection, licking her lips and concentrating on the object of her gaze.

Gently, I took her hand and helped her from the tub; I dried her hair, her body. I combed and blew dry her hair; I applied lotion to her skin, all of it, everywhere.

She was panting. No words had been spoken by either of us for over an hour. We were replaying a scene from our first time together and it was rich in significance to us both.

I began to descend my kisses from her scalp to her pudenda, but she stopped me and with force, she flipped me onto my back, straddling me, holding me down with her strength and her will.

I grinned at her, she smirked at me. She began kissing me. She kissed my open mouth, then she licked my lips, my cheeks my nose and my closed eyes. She nuzzled her face into my hair and breathed into my ear, kissing my lobe, nuzzling my neck and shoulder. She raised my arm and nibbled on the hair from my armpit, causing goose bumps all over, hardening my nipples. She latched onto one, licking and nibbling. 

My erection was painful, my arousal peaked, and I wanted her now. She used her strength and held me at bay, continuing her slow descent down my body. She lingered on my chest and belly, blowing into my belly button and as she licked it, she pushed a finger into my ass. My cock slapped her on the cheek and she took it into her mouth as she sank her finger to the knuckle, pushing on my prostate glan. She took me all the way, swallowing me into her throat. 

I erupted with a great groan. She never moved, my ejaculate went directly into her stomach. When she pulled off, her eyes were watering and she was gasping for air, she laughed at me, hard...I joined in. She is remarkable.

She refused me access to her, nuzzling next to me, grabbing my hand and wrapping my arm around her as she lay naked next to and on me on our bed.

"Talk," She said.

"I am going to be sworn in as the forty sixth President of the United States of America February 1 of next year."

"Wha? How?Who? What is going on?" She lifted her head off my shoulder to look at me, gauging whether I was jesting or not.

"The President told me this morning at breakfast. He's stepping down, announcing January 1st."

"Does anyone know?" She asked.

"Ann and Mitt, you and me. That is all." I replied. "He wants it kept quiet for the time being. He and Ann are sick of the constant barrage of evil wishers. He thinks the nation loves me, us, and thinks we will be better able to lead the nation from here on."

"He's offering to mentor me from now until January, he wants this administration to succeed, but he's convinced that he cannot be the one to do it, that he has too much baggage, Bachman is pounding him on the right and the left is howling like a pack of wolves." I offered.

"He says the people love us, that we are thought of more as, 'one of the people' to use his terms and thinks we can have successes he couldn't have." 

"I imagine Ann will want some of your time as well, honey. She has several irons in the fire and probably hopes you can continue her advocacy. You can have your own, too, of course, just that she'll want to talk a lot I'm sure."

"Ok, that's it. Mind if I get back to...let's see, where was I?" I teased.

We copulated, fucked, made love, sucked and slobbered on one another for hours, falling asleep in the middle of the early morning hours.

"If President Obama had stepped down, allowing Hillary Clinton or someone to assume the Presidency back in 2012, the Democrats would still be in power." President Romney told a national Republican audience on January 1, New Years Day. 

"Scott Roberts will be a great President. He has a track record of sixteen years in Colorado, two years here with me in Washington and he has made friends on both sides of the aisle. Our country needs Scott Roberts at this critical time in our history." The President further intoned.

And, so the battles began for me anew. I decided to keep most of the senior staff on board from Romney's White House, bringing only a dozen of my own close associates with me, surrounding me. 

I decided my very closest ally, Victoria was qualified and I appointed her Homeland Security Chief. She's well qualified, capable, experienced and she has my complete trust. 

It didn't settle well with the opposition. I argued that Mrs. Clinton had led the Health care battle in President Clinton's first term, Mrs. Obama had become an official emissary of the President to several obscure places she 'vacationed,' and Victoria actually had the highest level of security training, practical and hands on knowledge, she was my choice.

The senate confirmed her 95-2 with 3 'not voting'. The nation would be a competently served from her office as it had ever been and it was a brilliant move on my part.

She relegated duties of the first lady to her own mother, who had been widowed by then. We moved her into the White House with us. It was perfect. Her mom was no nonsense, came from hard working stock and had a dignity and elegance about her that is rare. The critics howled, but only for a short while. 

Things were turning around in the nation. After eleven years of recession, the last year of President Bush, all four of Obama, and six years under Romney, the people were ready to get behind me. The nation unified, and we began working with one another, not against so much. 

The Congress passed a budget, finally, and it was in the black. Many accomplishments took place under my tutelage and we avoided war, we paid down on our national debt, we lowered spending, we lowered taxes and we raised revenues, all at the same time.

Many people, both on the left and the right commented on the unifying Presidency that I represented. I had wonderful friends from all walks of life, all races and creeds. Religion still had its' stalwart advocates, but the bitter hatred was at least put on the back burner during my nearly ten years in office.

Victoria and I left the Presidency when I was fifty eight. We'd served our people with gusto, pleasure, fidelity and honesty. No major scandals broke out under my watch and America was safer in the world. 

We needed to remain diligent, alert and on guard, but so many of the hotspots were cooled or cooling. Our enemies lurked, to be sure. Their opportunities were diminished because our friends were so loyal. It was hard for the haters to get a foot hold and strike us. Of course, we know it is day to day and we remain vigilant.

One story from our fourth year in office, I must relate. Victoria's security detail had a very handsome and virile forty year old supervisor. She and he worked closely together, travelled the world together and became close. They had similar backgrounds, both were attractive and it stands to reason that temptation would rear its' ugly head.

Victoria was wrestling with menopause during her time at Homeland Security and sometimes her hormones would drive her hard. We'd found a way to stay in touch with just one phone call, with no third person involved. We each had private cells that only the other one had the number. 

She called me from Pocatello, Idaho one evening. "Scott, I am about to blow up. I am so horny, can I please, just this once, do my secret service guy? I need it so bad."

"Victoria, I love you. Never forget that. If your need to be fucked is greater than your need for my love, decide for yourself what you must do." I whispered into the phone as I walked into a small room off the oval office.

I had the Israeli Prime Minister in my office, along with his contingency and my full staff as well. I couldn't talk at that moment. So, I hung up.

She returned two days later and both of us had full schedules. We weren't able to speak until nearly nine pm.

I looked at her, leered at her harshly, wondering and fearing the worst. 

"I didn't do it Scott. I'm sorry for even broaching the subject. I saw my physician today and she put me on some hormones to level me out. My heart is yours, my body is yours. I have been yours since that night outside Coors Field and I am yours tonight. Forgive me for putting you through that." She wept.

"I talked with a physician too, Vic. He told me that it is normal for a woman going through menopause to have sudden urges, to be tempted to be dry one moment and wet the next. I only ask you, are you still only mine, really?" I queried.

"Yes. I was tempted, I was. I asked him to remove himself from my security detail. He's on the Secretary of State's detail now, as of yesterday. I am yours, I haven't been unfaithful in deed, but I was tempted. I'd been away from you, working so hard, stressing over issues and suddenly you weren't there. I wanted to reach out and have someone reassure me, like only you can do, but you weren't there. I saw it through and we are intact, honey....forgive me." She sobbed.

We reconnected again that night. We had to stifle our screams and groans lest we have a full contingent of Secret service agents on us.

I discussed the subject with Vic, of having her step down. If the job was too much for her at this time in her life, if she was vulnerable, the nation would be also. She assured me that the doctor said the medication she'd prescribed would level her hormonal balance and she'd be fine. 

No other incidences, no other suspicions or reports of dalliance were ever broached. Vic had a weak moment and came through it. Love conquered temptation. By that I mean her love for me, and her need for my love for her conquered. It is a testimony of fidelity in the face of what everyone suffers at one time or another.

Victoria and I never had children, but the people of the nation are our children. They began to see us, as we neared our exit from office, as senior statesmen. We were revered, for the most part. Many of our old enemies had become allies, some even became friends. We left the office of President with dignity and we left it better off than when we entered it. 

With security being such an issue, we couldn't return to our penthouse apartment in downtown Denver, so we bought President Jimmy Carter's old peanut farm in Plains, Georgia. After he passed away, during Mitt Romney's term of office, it became an eyesore and run down. The family needed the money so we thought it would preserve history and we moved into their family home after extensive remodeling.

My Presidential Library was built on the campus of the University of Northern Colorado in Greeley. It was the school I graduated from receiving my Bachelor of Arts degree. I had met my first wife, Dottie, there, at school. 

We'd dated off and on and married in our senior year. Her dad and brother and she were long time bed partners, much to my surprise and chagrin when I discovered them soon after our wedding.

It was that, my dad's murder, my mom's death to cancer and too much money that had nearly destroyed me. I took to drinking and a lovely lady cop rescued me after I'd shit my pants, puked all over myself and nearly lost my life on the streets of Denver.

With her strong fundamental love for me, but probably even more, her need for the special love that I had for her, we faced many challenges through life together, becoming President and First Lady of the United States. She became Director of Homeland Security and though our battles were many, our triumphs were sufficiently numerous to count us successful in the end.

The little town of Plains Georgia became a bustling small city. World leaders seemed to make Plains a regular stop on their way to or from Washington, D.C. I liked to take them fishing, out onto the pond where that rabbit attacked President Carter. I keep a .22 handy in case he decides to come back. 

After Carter 'beat him off' with an oar, I was afraid he'd be back for more. Not me, I'll kill the little bastard if I see him.

*

Thank you for reading my story.

-Pultoy 



Somebody Take Me Drunk...



We rented all our ski equipment up there, at the ski shop, took lessons for the first morning on the beginner slopes and then we were set loose to try our hand at snow skiing.

We rode up the chair lifts together and tried coming down together. That was hard, because it is hard to go the same speed when you really can't control yourself that well.

Victoria took a nasty fall late in the first day and wrenched her knee pretty bad. Fortunately, I was behind her and stopped uphill above her. She was writhing on the ground holding her knee. I unhooked my skis and knelt beside her, looking to see if I could do something. Her pain was intense; she wasn't dealing with me at the moment.

The ski patrols had seen her fall and were there inside ten minutes. They loaded her on a sled and took her down to the clinic at the bottom of the hill.

The Nurse Practitioner at the clinic said it could be broken but more likely was a nasty sprain. He wrapped it and gave her crutches, ordering her to keep off her leg and to see a physician as soon as we got back to Denver.

We went back to our room and were talking, "I don't know any good orthopedic doctors, do you, Scott?" she asked.

"I use University Colorado Hospital for everything, but I don't know if they have orthopedics. I can call my friend and he can point me to an orthopedist, if that is ok with you?" I offered.

"That would be great," she replied.

Unfortunately, I was unable to contact my friend at UCH, because it was late in the day.

"We'll stay here tonight. I'll order in pizza and then on the way down the hill tomorrow, I'll get you in somewhere as we are driving into town." I said.

"Oooh, a man in charge, I like it." Victoria teased, a little high on the codeine pills.

I helped her get ready for bed and ordered Pizza. We had supper and hit the rack. She was pretty dopey from the pain pills anyhow.

The next day we went straight into UCH, where we were directed to Orthopedics and she was treated very well. The doctor assessed her injury and pronounced it to be a badly sprained knee. There was no permanent damage, but it would be weak for some months. She was fitted with under-the-clothes reinforcement for the knee, given more pain meds and released with written orders, 'no work until released by Doctor'.

Her sergeant didn't care much for that, so he made her come in and fly a desk. With the pain pills though, she really wasn't much good to them, but they wanted her there so her benefits and salary would continue unabated.

After two weeks, I got a call from her, "Scott, would you be a dear and stop off at Walgreens and get my refill on Oxycodone? I am running low and need them for this damn knee pain."

"Still lots of pain, Vic? Better get you back to the sawbones and see what he says, ok?"

"Yeah, ok, but I need those pills tonight if you could please."

I took her in the next Friday to UCH Orthopedic department and her doctor examined her. "It's healing nicely; you should be able to take that brace off any time now. Just take it easy and you'll be ok," he said.

"Yeah, but I still have pain, doc., can you renew that script for oxy's?"

"They are highly addictive officer Newland. I wish we could ratchet that down and get you on something less potent. You need to wean yourself off them now, before this becomes an addiction," the doctor warned solemnly.

"Yeah, ok, just fill one more for me and then I'll go to something less addictive. Please?" she begged.

He wrote out a prescription and handed it to her silently. She took it and we left. 

When Walgreens filled the prescription, it wasn't for Oxycodone but Tylenol 3. Victoria hit the ceiling when she realized what the doctor had done.

Suddenly we, Victoria Newland and Scott Roberts, were on equal ground.

The best thing about all this is that Victoria is a strong person. The second best thing is that she'd only been on the Oxycodone for a little over two weeks. Though that can be enough, she didn't totally fall under the spell of the addictive drug, but got close enough to smell the foul odor of that beast; addiction.

Helping Victoria assess things in her own life also helped me. While I was taking her inventory, I took my own. I hadn't had a drink in seven weeks and Victoria was off all pain meds except for an occasional Advil.

She started out strong but during the process she became needful and I was the guy who was there to help her. It served to ingratiate myself with her. She started looking at me like I'd been looking at her, with big moon shaped eyes.

We began dating, having dinners, going places and doing things together on her days off. There was no sex, she was wary and wanted to wait until there was real commitment. We did some kissing, some fondling, and some heavy breathing. She stopped me any time I got too adventurous, even though she was hot herself.

Seven weeks became two months, then four months. We spent her days-off together, enjoying one another, discovering places and doing interesting things.

However, a chasm began to grow between us. She was a cop, after all, and I an ordinary citizen. She had a league of brethren that she worked with, trained with and counted on for protection, which she protected as well.

Slowly she began to withdraw from me, especially when it became clear that I wasn't going to return to drinking my life away and that I was doing well and recovering from my drinking problem.

Finally, she ended it. "Scott, we need to go on with our lives. I care for you so much and I know you care for me but we are from different worlds. I have aspirations and you have a different future than me," she gently told me the last night we were together.

I listened silently, knowing that something like this was coming. Her growing detachment from me was obvious and I'd steeled myself against this day.

"You've done so much for me Vic," I said. "I'd probably be dead or in prison or something right now if you hadn't taken me on as a project."

"You were more than a project Scotty, you were special. I always said so, remember?" she asked.

"Yeah, I remember," I replied. "Well, so I guess this is it. I hate goodbyes and I'll do my crying in private, but I love you Victoria and I'll never forget you, never forget that you threw me a lifeline just as I was about to gasp my last." My voice began to crack as I headed for the door.

"Scott, please don't leave hurt. I didn't mean we'd never...see one another..."

I closed the door and was just out of her building as my tears hit. 

I made it to my car and sat and cried like a school girl.

Victoria lived in an apartment building off Florida and Evans and I had my penthouse downtown, off the 16th street mall. I drove home, walked into my place feeling hollow and wondered if a drink would hit the spot.

I thought about what I'd learned in the past few months, how my life had turned. I began to realize I had a lot going for me, and I shouldn't spend my time trying to destroy myself any longer, but to make something productive come from my time here on earth. I'd always hold Victoria Newland special in my heart but she didn't see me as a potential mate and there was really nothing I could do about that. 

I just had to gird myself up and go on.

I had millions of dollars, with no need to work for the rest of my life, but I couldn't just sit and eat pistachios. I needed an avocation.

On a whim, I registered as a Republican and ran for the Colorado Senate, for a seat being vacated in downtown Denver. It had long been held by the Democrats. I really had no credentials to run. I did have a 4-year college degree, but I was loaded and never really had a job. So, I'd fit in perfectly if I could win the seat!

The Republican Party got behind me and poured funds into my campaign, trying to take control of the Senate away from the Democrats. They called me a fresh face with new ideas and I worked hard at it. We had rallies, I gave speeches and interviews, and I won that damned seat by only fifty-six votes. It was truly an upset victory and the Republicans did take control of the Colorado State Senate by a two-seat majority.

I got my committee assignments and pretty much voted the party line on everything that came up. It took quite a while for me to acclimate to the rigors of public life, of political life and of being a power broker, but I became popular with my colleagues and quite well known around Metropolitan Denver.

I'd had the seat for three and a half years and was up for reelection for another four-year term. I had a lot of money in my campaign coffers and spent a lot of time kissing babies, going to luncheons and rubber chicken suppers. I worked lots of rope lines, shaking hands meeting and greeting my constituents, the voters.

We'd received some death threats; my office staff had intercepted them and notified the Colorado State Patrol, who have responsibility for Capitol security. But, outside the legislature, we are unprotected and so whatever police district we are in has the burden of security, if we notify them that we will be holding an event.

My secretary had notified Denver PD that I'd be doing a Saturday 5k jog and meet 'n greet afterwards in Cheeseman Park, southeast of downtown. The police department said they'd assign an officer to run the 5k race with me and then a contingent of two more officers to hang close as I moved about the crowd. They'd be out of uniform, but be in service and armed as well as have protective clothing on.

There were probably 125 or 150 people in the group. I was shaking hands, one of my staffers was handing out campaign literature and out of the corner of my right eye, I saw a steel glint, then I heard several loud gunshots at close range. I was knocked to the ground, with people on top of me. There were a couple more gunshots and chaos reigned. I saw blood and there was screaming and yelling. I heard orders being yelled, lots of confusion. It didn't seem I was hurt, at least I didn't feel any pain, but I had this warm sticky stuff, "Oh, it's blood!" coming from my chest. It was becoming hard to breathe, I felt like I was drowning.

I woke up in Denver General Hospital. I'd been shot in the lung, two bystanders were killed and a Denver police officer, who had been protecting me, was seriously wounded and still in surgery. I was told the officer had stepped in harm's way to protect me by taking a second bullet meant for me, then landing on me as we both fell to the ground, which also broke two of my ribs.

I'd never even seen the security detail that DPD had said they'd assign me. I did see and talk to the officer who ran the race with me, but it got so hectic right afterwards I never even looked for the other two when I started greeting the crowds. At first I had no idea at all that it was Victoria Newland who had taken a bullet for me and now lay seriously wounded, in surgery at this same hospital, fighting for her life.

The shooter was shot to death by my other security guard; that was the second set of shots I had heard after falling to the ground. The assailant was an ardent Democratic supporter of the guy who I'd beat by fifty-six votes almost four years previously. I guess the Democrats wanted their Senate seat back.

They said I had a .38 caliber slug in my lung when I arrived at their ER. I was losing blood fast and they performed emergency surgery, removing the slug and repairing what damage they could find. They were cautiously optimistic that I'd make a full recovery.

I asked about the officer. Her prognosis wasn't so rosy. She had a bullet-proof vest on, but it is open on the sides, and she was turned to the side when the shooting began. She took a slug on her left side and the bullet grazed an artery near her heart and stopped in her left lung, after shattering a rib as it went by. She took a second round to the palm of her right hand, as she had put it forward using it as a shield against the onslaught of bullets. After she was hit, she went right down on top of me, breaking my ribs.

They got the slug out of her lung, and were trying valiantly to repair the bullet-grazed artery of her heart. The surgeons at Denver General Hospital had called University Hospital for the world famous Heart Surgeon, Harold Metzenbalm, on staff there. Dr. Metzenbalm arrived at DGH as they were just beginning to work on her heart. Victoria 'died' on the table, her wounded heart stopping just after they began operating on it.

The tenacious ER teams, and Dr. Metzenbalm, refused to accept that as the final answer and worked feverishly to restore a heartbeat, a blood pressure, stop the bleeding, restart normal function, mend the broken rib that the bullet shattered and repair the artery that had been nicked, bringing Victoria back to a living, breathing person.

She was in surgery for eleven hours. The team of hard working expert physicians saved the brave police officer's life. Her outlook was now bright. With time, and therapy, she would be ok.

I asked if we could be in the same room, as patients. They had to make sure Victoria was ok with that so, when she could communicate, she nodded her head yes to the question, "Would you like to be in the same room as Senator Roberts?"

They pushed our beds about as close as they could and still get the machines in there. I stuck my hand through the rail and she hers. We held hands.

We had a constant stream of visitors. I had a message from President Romney and Vice President Michelle Bachman, visits from our Democratic Governor, most of the Republican Senators that I served with and even many Democratic ones.

Victoria was visited by literally hundreds of Denver Police and Sheriff Officers. Other departments also sent representatives. It became so much the hospital had to shut it down. Victoria asked if, instead of visiting, they would each give a pint of blood - that would mean so much to her. The hospital received 3,219 pints of blood in the ensuing weeks. It was donated by law enforcement officers and fire fighters from around the state; also from many citizens throughout Metropolitan Denver. The blood bank finally had to refuse more blood, because they were afraid it wouldn't all keep and they were full.

We were in the hospital, together, for two weeks. She was in longer than I but we had many opportunities to talk during quiet evenings or late at night when we were both awake.

"I never meant to drive you away, Scott. I just needed some space. We were so close and I hadn't intended to fall in love. Plus, my career was taking off and I had a lot of demands, training demands, and other departmental things going on," Victoria said.

"I thought it best to make a clean break, Vic. I could tell you'd been more and more detached from me. When you started to talk that night, I already knew that you needed space from me, that you'd decided to move on. To cling to you would have been to drive you away, totally," I told her solemnly.

"You saved my life; several people have told me that. You put yourself in harm's way; you pushed me down and took that bullet, then another one in your hand. Your life is forever changed because of your sacrifice," I murmured.

"Victoria, you've saved me twice now." I said.

"Well, I can't have my guy dying on me now, can I?" she said. "Somebody's got to look out for you. Besides, you saved me from what was becoming a pretty bad drug addiction to Oxycodone. That would have ruined my life, Scott. You hung in there with me and made me see myself. I owed you for that, besides it was my job to protect you last Saturday; that was why I was there."

"Well, if we're keeping score, I am still down one but, let's make a deal...let's quit the rescue business," I offered.

"I'm still a cop, still in that line of work, you know?" she reminded me.

"I imagine you will be getting some time off after you get out, some recuperation time. I want you to come to my place, I'll hire a nurse and we can convalesce together for a few weeks. What do you say?" I asked.

"Sounds good, Scott. I might just take you up on that. I need to sleep. See you in the morning," she said.

I won reelection handily from my penthouse apartment after being released from Denver General Hospital. I'd allowed one of the television stations and one of the daily newspapers into my roomy apartment every week for an extensive interview leading up to the election. Victoria was there for some of them and our story just won the hearts of the people. I could have been President of Colorado, if I'd asked and Victoria could have been Queen. She is so tall and elegantly beautiful with her blonde locks, light eyes and sweet smile. She looks nothing like a hardened cop, though she's tough as a Dodge Pickup Truck.

Together, in the interviews, we told of the beginning of our relationship; how she had found me in my own vomit, how I'd been arrested for various alcohol-related offenses in the past, how she'd taken me under her wing and given me a hand up. It was a comeback story and, instead of being viewed as shameful, it was inspirational.

There was always some smart-ass reporter wanting to know if she was bent on saving the world. Her answer, "No Keith, not save the world, but all the darkness in the world can't hide the light of a single candle."

Mostly, they just looked at her with a thousand yard stare after that.

We were recovering slowly. We underwent extensive rehabilitation and needed lots of time to heal. We each needed to go at our own pace, but heal we did.

My place is so large that I offered Victoria the chance to just move in and take up residence in one of the spare bedrooms if she wanted. It turned out she did want, but we were still platonic. I never could figure out her intentions towards me. If it were up to me, I'd bed her, but it wasn't. She was either going slow, making sure, or not interested at all.

However, this time, our bond strengthened. Our hearts were becoming knit. We ate together, we spent our evenings together and she accompanied me on some State business where a date or spouse's attendance was appropriate.

She was off the streets as a uniformed cop, though she was promoted to detective sergeant. It was less rigorous and she could cut back on her hours if she needed to rest some.

I had a call from Randall Prahall, the Chairman of the Colorado Republican Party. He wanted to come over and visit. I told him, we'd make a dinner party of it and to bring his wife. Actually, there were ten men with him when they came and it wasn't dinner they wanted to talk about.

"Scott, the governor is up for reelection next year and we think he's vulnerable. We want you to put your hat in the ring and run against him. If we can get the Governorship, we'll have all three; the house the senate and the governors office," he announced, to nods of approval.

Victoria sat there wide-eyed, not indicating her preference one way or another.

"I'll need some time to think it over. Nothing like this was on my radar so it's come to me out of the blue. Just let me think about it," I said, thoughtfully.

"We'd like your answer by the first of the month," Randall said, "We have a lot of planning and scheduling to do. I hope you are on board with this, Scott. The Republican Party is stronger now here in Colorado. We want to field a strong candidate for Governor, and we think you are it. If you agree to run, you'll have the full weight of the Colorado and National Republican Party and substantial financial backing behind you."

They all finished their drinks and left. The meeting lasted but 30 minutes. We did not eat dinner.

I had barely begun my second term as a State Senator and was only 35 years old. I'd been out of the hospital for six months after the shooting and was nearly back to normal. I was in good condition before the shooting, which helped my recovery substantially, the doctors had said. Victoria was recovering but more slowly as she had been more severely wounded. However, she would make a full recovery, just in a few months more than me. She was glad to have a place to recuperate where she had peace and was cared for both physically and emotionally.




Somebody Take Me Drunk...



We still hadn't resolved anything between us. I felt that I needed resolution before making any decision on trying for the Governor's Mansion.

"Victoria, I'd like to spend a little time, just you and me, talking," I mentioned.

"Ok, shoot," she said jokingly.

"This is hard for me, but it's time NOW if ever there was a time. I care for you. I want to know that you are ok. I want to spend my time with you. I want you to want me, I love you," I said quietly, with my head bowed, afraid to look her in the eye for fear of rejection.

She was silent a long time. We sat across from one another, her looking at me and me avoiding her gaze. I realized that this was the moment that the rubber hit the road. Our future hinged on what was about to be said.

I wasn't overly invested, because our relationship had matured and I knew that we'd always be friends, buddies. That I'd tipped my hand and spoken the 'L' word was a first for us. But, it forced her, at last, to make her heart known to me. I'd never known her even to date other men, cops or otherwise.

Victoria weighed her words carefully for several minutes.

"You are so good for me, I never feel this way around other people. I mean I am from a large family of all brothers. My brothers and I are friends, we are more than that, and we are best friends. The cops I work with are mostly men. We are brothers, we are family, we are not really friends though, because too much is riding on our confidence level with one another, we are comrades in arms, I guess," she said.

I blinked at her, wondering when she'd comment on what I'd said, wondering if or how I figured into this, her life full of men. I was such a different type of man in her life. Her brothers and her cop buddies were all macho, tough guy types. Me, I was certainly not effeminate, but just didn't need to prove anything. I was kind of mellow and laid back, bright but content with who I was.

"Like I said, Scott, you are so good for me. Around you, I feel different. I feel that I'm gently treated, that I am a treasure to you, that I am special. I do sense your love for me. It has perplexed me for a long time, I don't know what to do with it, it isn't something I'm used to dealing with."

"Ok, well, um...," I stammered.

"Do I love you back?" she asked.

I blinked, then blinked again, breathless, waiting, wondering.

"Yes, I do. I've never felt free to express my love. It was always, 'tough love,' 'rub some dirt on it, it'll be all right' type of love," she said.

"Scott, I'm totally inexperienced with men. I mean, I have more men in my life than probably any chick you ever met, but I don't know anything about love, the type of love that I know you are offering and that you want me to express to you," Victoria said.

"I mean, I'm not a virgin. I've had sex a few times but I've never had an orgasm with a guy in the room. Everyone seems to think that I want it rough, that because I am tough and can land and take a punch, that I want to be treated rough in the sack," she lamented.

She continued, "I've avoided all this with you. I've made you back off when you've got horny, even when you've got me horny. I did that because I didn't know what to do if you made me fall in love. It is something gentle and soft and kind and I don't go there too much. I know it's there, but it kind of has me buffaloed, know what I mean?

One more thing, then I'll shut up. Scotty, if I let you inside this tough exterior, I fear that you may not like what you see, that you might reject it and leave me weakened. I've never been weak and I fear it." She was speaking quietly and her vulnerability was beginning to reveal itself.

"I understand. Look at me Victoria. I love you. What you've just told me about is that little girl who was locked up by rough and tumble guy brothers who wanted to tease and overprotect their baby sister. But, you grew up taller and tougher than some of them and so they still forced you to be one of them, not let you be who you might choose to be. All I can say is that I promise to do my best to love you as you are and let you be you."

She had tears in her eyes. She wasn't sobbing, but I'd never seen her tear up. She had always been strong, she'd seen horrible suffering, handled horrific situations, dealt with terrible people and for her, a revealed tear was quite a step.

Even when she was fighting Oxycodone, she stayed tough-minded. What a great woman, what a great person, I do love her so.

"Scotty, make love to me. Teach me how to be loved. Show me how to love you." Then she cried, great heaving sobs, a lifetime of suppression began to find it's way to the light of day. For Victoria, to allow herself to be vulnerable was as big an achievement as any she ever had accomplished.

She left her chair across the table from me and ran around sobbing, her blonde ponytail bouncing as she trotted, all six feet one inch, to me. I was standing as she reached me and nearly fell with her as she impacted me with such force.

I led her into my bedroom. We stood there, her tears still flowing, the cleansing of the moment not finished. I motioned for her to stand still and went to get a warm washcloth. I started the huge tub full of water and came back to wipe her face. As I wiped her cheeks and nose, like a little girl, this six feet one inch; one hundred sixty five pound child became pliable, eager to be loved, touched, caressed and treated tenderly. She just didn't know what to do.

Neither of us spoke. I unbuttoned her blouse, brushed it from her shoulders letting it fall to the floor. I then loosened the fasteners on her brassiere. As I began to peel it from her breasts, she showed a twinge of shyness, pulling her arms up protectively. I hesitated, waiting. She lowered her arms and I dropped the bra to the ground. 

Very gently I caressed her shoulders from behind, moving my hands around her neck. I pulled her to me, I was behind her and I puffed in her ear, nibbled on her lobe, and then licked her neck. My hands lightly touched her skin and moved to the swell of her C-cup breasts. She inhaled as my palms found her areolas and her puffy, skyward pointing nipples at the same time.

Both my hands on her hard nipples, gently circling with my palms, she ground her still clothed bottom into me. I kissed her cheek, breathed on her neck. She turned her head and we kissed. Without losing contact, she turned her body and we embraced, opening our mouths, intermingling our tongues, expressing our desires with our mutually labored breathing.

Her tears had stopped. She became wanton with her kiss, exploratory with her hands. I stopped her and she blinked in my face. I smiled warmly and unfastened her pants, shucking them down her hips and legs. She stepped out of them and revealed she had not worn underwear. I led her to the nearly full bathtub of water and helped her in, then she sat down. I took my clothes off and joined her, standing over her for a moment, my erection jutting out directly above her eyes. I stood and let her look at me, then allowed my cock to rub and bounce on her head and chin as I sat down in the tub.

She reached for it, but I deflected her hands, grabbing them and bringing them to my mouth. "You said, 'teach me, show me,'" I said, "Let me." I smiled at her.

I grabbed a bottle of shampoo and poured some in my hand, then applied it to her wet hair. I shampooed it, taking my time and scratching her scalp, caressing her blonde locks. I rinsed her with water from the tub and then I shampooed it again, the fragrance of the clean smelling soap filling the air.

I took a bar of soap and she handed me a washcloth off the counter, but I dropped it. I turned her in the tub so her back was to me and she was sitting between my legs. I rubbed the bar of soap on her back, neck, shoulders and under her arms. I soothed it down her arms and squeezed her fingers, massaging each one.

Gently, I pulled her back. She rested against my belly and chest. I took the bar of soap and rubbed her forehead, her cheeks and lips; her chin and neck and the front of her shoulders down to her breasts. Her breathing began to become labored again as I soaped her breasts, circling her nipples.

Her hands gripped the side of the tub as I trailed lower from her breasts, across and around her taut belly to just above her pubic mound, reaching over her from behind.

I scooted her up in the tub and moved both my arms beneath her arms, holding her upright. I took the bar of soap and rubbed her vagina, soaping her silky pubic hair, squeezing her labia and running my fingers in the areas where her legs joined her torso. I lathered my hands and rubbed her ass. Her breathing turned to moans as I carefully cleaned around, first one way and then around the other way and then directly onto and a little bit inside her little star. 

She had become limp in my embrace from behind. I turned her body around, spinning her on her butt as the pivot, and moved her legs over my shoulders, leaning her body against the opposite side of the tub for support. She fastened her eyes on mine, heavily lidded, lusty and filled with the new experiences and sensations. Then I soaped her thighs and calves down to her feet where I kissed each toe as I rubbed it with soapy fingers.

While she watched, I cleaned myself. I raised up, on my knees and washed my hair, under my arms, my chest. I grabbed my very erect cock and balls and soaped them well, I rubbed the soap between the cracks of my ass and then I washed my feet and legs. I sat in the tub and rinsed my body.

I stood, as she watched silently, and stepped out of the tub. I grabbed a towel and dried myself vigorously.

When finished, I grabbed her hands and pulled her kindly to her feet, leading her to stand outside the tub. I toweled her hair thoroughly. I took a dry towel and patted down her body, rubbing between the cheeks of her ass and around her pussy. I sat her on the toilet, with the lid down, and blow-dried her hair, standing in front of her with my hard cock bouncing and pointing in her face, at her throat and chest.

When she'd make a grab, I would back away or pull her hands down, indicating silently that I was going to finish what I'd started.

Finally we were finished drying and I brushed her hair. I hadn't applied rinse, so it was frizzy, but I never let her see it in the mirror. She only smelled the cleanliness of soap and never saw herself in the mirror. 

I led her into the bedroom and turned her to me as we stood beside the bed. As we kissed, I nudged her onto the bed. Her legs buckled and she sat down then lay. I lay beside her, kissing her. I planted kisses on her from her scalp, the tops of her ears, behind her ears, down her neck to where it becomes her shoulder and under her arms, licking her there. I moved from her bushy armpits to the gentle swell of her breasts and engulfed her nipples with my warm and moist mouth, flicking my tongue over her nipples, causing her to arch her back, planting her head into the pillow and presenting her breasts to me prominently.

She was breathing more heavily, sounding like she had the croup, hoarse sounds coming from her throat both on the exhale and the inhale. The odor of her arousal filled the room, I kissed down from her breasts to her belly button and there I discovered the filament-like blonde hairs, almost invisible, which trailed down from her belly button to her pubis. I gently nudged them with my upper lip, breathing through my nose onto them and she gasped and jerked as I lightly touched them.

That is an erogenous zone on her and she was quickly losing any control that she might have had. I lingered a moment on those small hairs there below her belly button, reached my hand around to the small of her back, opposite from where I was nuzzling in front and lightly tickled there in back. She orgasmed slightly, humping the air with her hips. How erotic!

I moved my body between her now open legs, her body writhing, her pussy pumping the air, seeking contact. Her words, "Please...oh, please...don't make me suffer any more...please, Scotty." She pumped the air another time, seeking my lips or my fingers.

I blew a puff of air on her labia, she sucked in a huge gulp of air and stopped all movement, waiting. Very slightly I touched her vaginal lips and nuzzled my upper lip in between them, nibbling around, then inserting my tongue slightly. She jammed her hips into my face and my nose into her clitoris. Her hands grasped the back of my head, she spread her legs wide and pushed with her hands, humping with her hips, seemingly trying to insert my whole head into her vagina. Her orgasm started like a wave crashing in onto the shore and it built in magnitude, never slowing or receding. She squeezed her legs shut on my head and I lost the ability to hear anything she said. With her legs squeezed so tightly, I couldn't breathe, I licked and sucked until I just had to breathe or die. I had to break away violently and when I did she seemed unaware of what danger I was in.

I gasped and sucked in large lungfuls of air, laughing out loud at her.

She seemed incoherent and unaware for a few moments.

Wiping my soaked face on the bed sheets, I slithered up her body to lie face to face. I kissed her and asked her "How was that?"

"I never knew anything like that in my life. I want you to do that to me all the time. I loved that. Thank you so much," she gushed.

"We're not through, little girl," I warned. 

"I want you inside me," she demanded. And she rolled me over straddling me. She grabbed my cock and slipped down hard all the way to my belly. She sat there taking in the sensations, her eyes closed, my hands cupping her breasts.

I told her "Spin around, face my feet but don't get off my cock."

Slowly she worked herself around and the sensation was totally different. She rose to her knees and began to pump up and down on me.

"Vic, I'm not going to last long," I said, as I began erupting inside her. That set her off again and she nearly tore me in two pumping and sliding back and forth, literally dragging the come out of my body. Even when I was done, she kept humping and I asked her to stop for a minute, because it was so sensitive.

She laughed, which caused her to involuntarily kegel, which caused my overly sensitive cock to twitch up inside her. She hiccupped at that and laughed again, which caused me to twitch again. It was a vicious cycle of glorious pain and pleasure there for a few moments.

She Lay her long torso back on top of me, my hands circled her to find her breasts. She lay her head back on my shoulder, where our faces were lined up next to one another, both laying on our backs, catching our breath. "Scott, I do love you so much."

Victoria Newland, Detective Sergeant of the Denver Police Department, became Mrs. Scott Roberts two weeks later. 

She encouraged me to launch my bid for governor; it would be a two-year run for office. I kept my seat in the State Senate as I ran and was a constant thorn in the side of the current governor and the Democrats in the state legislature.

Victoria became a leader in the investigative ranks of detectives. It seems that finding her girly side, and exposing her vulnerabilities to one man she could trust, strengthened her even more that anyone could have imagined. She was promoted to Lieutenant after only five years as a sergeant.

I was in my second year as Governor of Colorado when another attempt was made on my life. There was only one guard on duty at the governor's mansion at night. Someone had sneaked onto the grounds of the mansion and into the mansion itself. He was armed with a pistol and a knife. He made his way into our bedroom upstairs without being noticed but some noise that he made awakened Victoria. She put three rounds into his neck and chest when he was only eight feet away from me. I was asleep when it happened. She keeps her service weapon close by 24/7. She'd saved my life yet again.

Security was tightened considerably around me after that. We discussed whether she should keep her job with the constant danger that she faced, and she insisted that she loved it and was as safe as any other cop.

Victoria hunted around and found a small weapon that I could carry concealed. She taught me how to use it. We practiced every month, shooting a minimum fifty rounds and she instructed me to be thinking of possible escape routes and 'what to do's' every time I went into public. 

If the people of Colorado ever realized their governor was a gun carrying man, they might not appreciate it. However, generally, the security detail agreed with Victoria, it was best to make me more security aware and able to defend myself if the need arose, in addition to them ratcheting up their proficiency in this ever increasingly dangerous day and age.

A new mayor of Denver was elected and he hired a new chief of police. The new chief wanted his own people in key command positions and, after extensive review, he put Victoria in as Captain of Detectives, which is a Division Chief position.

I ran for and was elected to a second term as Governor of Colorado. Midway through my second term, the Republican Party asked me to toss my hat into the ring for United States Senator, telling me I'd be a shoo in since I was such a popular governor and would be term limited out of office after this term was over.

That would mean Victoria and I would be apart more than we'd be together, her in Denver and me in Washington, D.C. We never had children, but our love was totally devotional and she said she'd support me, whatever decision I made.

I thought about it and, after Victoria and I had another of our nearly head crushing love making sessions, I decided not to stay in public office after my term as Governor passed.

I was content being the spouse of Chief of Detectives. After all, how often does a love come along like this? It is rare, according to my observations. Why gain the world and take the chance on losing the best thing that could happen to me, my wife.

Nope, I am happy. No need to fix happy.




Thank you for reading my story. The courtesy of your vote is appreciated. 

-Pultoy