Chapter 14: The Passions of Lyndon Baines Johnson

15 May

The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People wrote to the President, seeking his help in resolving the civil rights tension. Signed by Roy Wilkins was a petition for government assistance in Prince William County, Virginia.

On May 15, 1963, without securing the cooperation of the NAACP or the Urban League, A. Philip Randolph announced an “October Emancipation March on Washington for Jobs”.

24 May

In a Kennedy apartment in New York city, John and Robert Kennedy met, quietly, with a group of civil rights leaders led by novelist James Baldwin. There was little communication.

After the Kennedys returned to DC, they called in LBJ and Burke Marshall. “Gentlemen, we tried. It can’t be the last attempt to communicate, but we accomplished nothing. Lyndon, perhaps you might follow up with one at a time? It struck me that Clarence Benjamin Jones, a lawyer and adviser to Dr. King, might be more approachable than show business people. Kenneth Clark or Edwin C. Berry are other possibilities.

When I learned of the meeting, I wondered, is there any way to get one of our telempaths in range of such a group, to facilitate communications?

Harold, you will have to figure out some way to arrange the proximity. We will support the communications.

31 May

One morning, I awakened, my body stressed, my mind churning. Happily, Lois was in bed with me. “Harold, I can sense how tense you are. Let’s try to reduce that. I know you love using your mouth on women, as much or more than most lesbians. You’ve told me that the range of sensations fill your mind. Well, with your mind in mind...” With a happy sound, she sat on my face. She was right about my preferences. Soon, I was aware of little besides the warmth of her thighs against my cheeks, her taste and scent in my face, my mouth taking in her clit and my tongue flicking it. I was aware that I was very hard, but that was somehow outside my immediate concern.

Before long, she screamed in pleasure. Lois was an occasional squirter, and, happily, this was one of those times. There are those that argue about the composition of that female fluid, but I’m not going to get into the science. I will say that I find it to be a very light, delicate, refreshing flavor, quite different from that of other fluids.

Yes, Harold. She has started you on a path of relieving stresses for you, and many for the Clan.

Lois dropped to my side and kissed me, most thoroughly. “If nothing else, I feel better, and I sense you are improved but not all the way. Do you just want to take me, or shall I call for help?”

Think about those who know the most.

“This isn’t just for sex. Get Vivian, Terry, and Dorothy.”

As each of them came into my room, and my bed, we exchanged deep kisses and fondling.

They are entering rapport with you, and also aware of us.

“Ladies, I fully expect to lose myself in you and with you. Nevertheless, all of you know, perhaps just at an intuitive level, what I am -- a hybrid of this body with memories in a full life. Maybe time traveler, maybe something else.

“It’s stressing me to be making oracular pronouncements without sources. In point of fact, I have a very good memory for the other timeline. I realized, as I drifted awake this morning, that I could quote the specific CIA Saigon Station report about which I was going to be mysterious.

“I need to be able to say “this came from CIA”.”

I felt the Others telling me, you need to get physical, at least daily, with some of the women with White House contacts. That will improve both your awareness, and the power of their telempathic suggestions.

That evening, Lois and Dorothy were my partners. “Dorothy, you’ve probably figured out, and Lois definitely knows, that this is a second lifetime for me.” Be very careful, as we believe you will.

just received, I haven’t the slightest problem assuming that you’re a time traveler in a do-over, and to hell with the paradoxes.” I appreciated Dorothy’s brilliantly red lips against her pale skin and light blonde hair.

“Well, I have to share some less critical aspects of the past. The Missile Crisis was far more tense. In school, we were variously drilling in “drop and cover” under the desks, or rushing away from the windows to crouch in the hallway.

“Compared with today, though, there was something much more terrible, for me at 14, than imminent nuclear destruction.” They leaned forward intently. “The miniskirt would not become popular for several years. Lois, you were my homeroom teacher, so I saw you most often. For the time, you had some of the shortest and tightest skirts, so, when we were on the floor, I could be reassured that my last sight might be of your skirt rising high and blessing me with a view of your legs. Dorothy, I saw you less often, but your uniform skirt, when you were demonstrating first aid, also could show a lot.”

“Well, aren’t you the lucky one in this timeline! Dorothy, you sit next to me on the edge of the bed. Slip off your panties, as I’ll do so.” Lois draped a leg over Dorothy. “Harold, then get the benefit of the experience and enjoy bringing both of us with your mouth.” She reached out, pulled Dorothy’s head to her, and happily shared a sloppy kiss.

Most of the way with LBJ

Of all of us, Terry knew the inner circles of Washington DC the best. I convened everyone who had visited JFK or LBJ, or plausibly might do so, was present, along with Lois, Lorna, and Vox. I reflected that we might well need to add a physician to this group, but Dr. Le and Michael Halberstam weren’t yet fully in the Clan.

“Well, as most of you know, and most from personal experience, you aren’t just fucked by politicians as are most American citizens, but you fuck back the top two. Terry, would you review what we know of the inner circle dynamics of JFK and LBJ?”

“Let me begin by saying that both of the top leaders do love their wives, but don’t seem to be all that intimate. I don’t think there’s any question about Lady Bird Johnson knowing about Lyndon’s proclivities, and not especially being upset. We don’t know anything about a separate sex life of hers.

“Both men are hypersexual. JFK told a number of people, “If I don’t have sex every day, I get a headache.” LBJ seems to have a need to dominate with physicality, such as having people join him in the bathroom. Frankie has fascinated him by not only being tolerant of that, but coming back harder. Edie also does that. In some unusual way, LBJ is starting to respect them as friends.

“Jackie Kennedy is more complex. She probably is aware of Jack’s affairs, or most of them, and tolerates but isn’t happy with them. There are only rumors about her having lovers of her own.

“Let me review others in their circles. Dave Powers is JFK’s body man, the closest personal aide. Dave is fully aware of Jack’s sex life, and sometimes participates in it, trading partners.

“There doesn’t seem to be someone at the same level of intimacy with LBJ, except, perhaps, his wife. If I were to guess, the two of them have some pleasant sex, and actually are more affectionate than Jack and Jackie. Mildred Stegall was his personal secretary who, among other things, transcribed LBJ’s secret recordings of phone calls and in-room microphones. Walter Jenkins was a political assistant, with, in the best sense of the world, a parental relationship with Lyndon and Lady Bird Johnson. LBJ also was close to two Secret Service agents, Rufus Youngblood, who is on his protection detail, and R.B. Jones, who deals with technical issues like advanced driving and weapons. R.B. has played with us.

“How do they interact? Some say JFK rigorously compartments his life. His sexual playmates are in one compartment, and his family in another. He has what I might call trophy playmates, such as, rumored but very likely, the late Marilyn Monroe. Judith Campbell Exner, probably a one-timer with Blaze Starr, and Pamela Turnure, Jackie’s Press Secretary. There are assorted secretaries and interns whom, frankly, he treats like disposables. At least two, political groupies known as Fiddle and Faddle, are secretaries that don’t seem to do any work.

“Our women, as I’ve suggested, are to some extent in their own category. They started out in the paper towel group, but intrigue JFK as not being overly impressed with his power. That’s not quite the right idea -- they can get turned on by the power.

“I myself managed him by seeing and raising his eroticism. My impression is that he never actually tried mother-daughter before Arlene and I did it with him. Just a hunch, but I think Dorothy is really pushing buttons for him, in some kind of nurse fantasy.

“R.B. called Frankie to invite her, Edie, and a couple of friends to LBJ’s ranch. He laughed, and said there would be some interesting experiences in his areas of cars and guns.”

Vox pointed out something that had occurred to her discerning visualization, but not the rest of us. “It’s one thing for Frankie to look like Jackie when it’s in a car at night, or a private dining room -- that was risky. It’s quite another one when she flies with LBJ on the Air Force Two airliner, and then connects via government aircraft from Austin to the ranch. I suggest that we put her in a wig, one that’s eye-catching but doesn’t look at all like Jackie. Of course, hon, if you wanted alternate hair of your own, that’s fine.

“Harold,” Vox told me, “I got a strong mental image from you of how to present Frankie that no one would confuse with Jackie.” I trusted her.

It was probably safe enough to leave Edie in her usual Marilyn look, with no danger of confusion. Terry might do the lawyer look, or something very different. She and Arlene will figure it out.

That night, Edie came to my bedroom. I smiled at her outfit, which went back to the way that I had first known her in high school -- a naughty rebel. She had had to hunt a bit to find a skirt that was as tight on her much-improved body, but, indeed, she managed to flash me with black stockings and panties, and a blouse two sizes too small. “OK, Edie. I never got to do this in school,” and unbuttoned her top, scooping her breasts out of the half bra.

“Be nasty, Harold. That’s my mood, not Marilyn elegance.”

I got a mental image from her, and pushed her back, while loosening my pants with one hand. My hardness went between her breasts. She made a happy sound and squeezed them around me. I began thrusting, as she bent her head to lick.

Before I climaxed, I shifted, and rubbed her mound through her panties. She humped against my hand, and soon began to moan, and then to scream.

Afterwards, Edie turned to me, her eyes soft. “Thank you, Harold. Before the Clan, I wasn’t sure where my life was going. Just being a slut wasn’t going to last long.”

1 June

The early risers, and the interested among us, got up to have breakfast with the group who would go with LBJ. I wondered what Vox had in mind for Frankie’s look.

The White House cars picked them up, early enough in the day that they could wear light coats between the door and the limo. The 707 took off from Andrews Air Force Base in suburban Maryland, flew to Bergstrom Air Force Base near Austin, where they transferred to twin-engine King Air executive transports, landing at the LBJ Ranch.

To their surprise, LBJ personally went to a Lagoon Blue convertible, and gestured to his guests. Other staff and Secret Service got into other cars.

LBJ ushered Terry into the center seat, putting Frankie, Edie, and Arlene into the back. He slid into the driver’s seat, with R.B. on the right. “Hmm?” LBJ suggestively murmured as his hand slid up her left thigh. He nodded at R.B. Not in the least inhibited, Terry reached for R.B.’s hand, put it on her other leg, her skirt rising even higher, and murmured “Hmm” right back.

He was a fast driver, perhaps too fast for the roads. Terry assumed that R.B., the Secret Service technical expert on cars and firearms, would say something if there was real danger.

They crested a hill, with a beautiful vista of the lake of the ranch. Suddenly, LBJ screamed, “The wheel isn’t working! The brakes don’t work! We’re going in! We’re going under!” Frightening words, except that the women’s telempathic sense told him that he was not at all afraid, and actually amused.”

Terry, in as bored a voice as she could manage, commented, “It’s such a nice day. Would you be so good as to open my clothes to help me get an all-over tan?”

As the car splashed into the lake, LBJ began to laugh hysterically, as he turned on the propellers of what proved to be an Amphicar, which churned its way through the water. R.B. observed, “If you think this is bad, wait until he tries to get you to ride in the donkey cart with him.”

“You and I can be utterly frank about our basest desires and then act on them, without hurting anyone.” He dropped his trousers, sat on the toilet, and said, in a cheerful tone, “suck me. I’ll get you next.”

Frankie knelt and took him as deep as she could. Edie slid to his side, grabbed his hand, and pulled it to her crotch. “Rub me while she takes you. Just wallow in the pleasure. I know I’m going to. How good are you with your hand, Mr. Vice President, Sir?”

Frankie was to learn that Lyndon Johnson, when he cared to do so, was magnificent with his hands, reminding her of the skill of some lesbians. He was notorious for liking to reach under skirts in the car, or even at social occasions, until Lady Bird’s face froze.

Afterwards, he gave her a puzzled look. “Honey, I’ve never done this before, but I want you to have lunch with just Lady Bird and me.”

“I’m honored. Let me go change. I hope I have something appropriate.” Frankie, happily, had overpacked. While one summery dress did have a short skirt, it also flattered her athletic build. She reflected that Lady Bird would wear proper heels, but there was little Frankie could do about being seven inches taller.

Surprising herself, as Lyndon took her into a small dining room, the Secret Service escort staying outside, Frankie smiled at Lady Bird, and then curtsied before her. “I want to be respectful, and I can’t do that if I tower over you. This is a strange situation, but...” She projected utter sincerity. “ ... I fully recognize that you are first in your husband’s love. Never would I want to embarrass you, but perhaps there are ways that I can share, to the benefit of both of you.”

Lady Bird’s voice was very soft. “Lyndon, please give the two of us a little private time.” LBJ rarely took orders, but, with a raised eyebrow, stepped outside.

“I am amazed, Frankie, to be saying this aloud, but I shall do so. I grew up assuming that men had wives and girlfriends. It seemed the order of things, balanced not just by my having a nice life, but in being able to have great influence through the husband that I support. More than many men that I’ve known, I do believe that in his way, he loves me. Both of us are from a generation different than yours. You are about the same age as my daughters, but for reasons that I cannot explain, I relate to you partially as I do to them, and partially as what I bluntly might call a respectful junior wife, whose role cannot be public.

“We both shall have to explore this together. Come here.” Lady Bird took her into a hug. “Since our relationship is special, when we are private, please call by my true name, Claudia. I would be upset if you used the name used only by a few intimates, Bird, and Lady Bird isn’t special.

“Sometime today, you and Lyndon will spend pleasant time together, but you will bring him to my bedroom and leave him for me.”

“Thank you, Claudia. I would, however, like to extend this to include Edie Urban. You can think of her as my sister by a different mother, who wants the same sort of respectful relationship with you and Lyndon.”

Lady Bird, with a bit of hesitation, agreed to have Edie join them. Edie and Frankie, of course, transmitted telempathic reassurance. Frankie was the more outspoken of the pair.

After lunch, they went separate ways for a time. LBJ went to his office to be updated on current civil rights matters. Frankie found a cool area for her dance and kata workout.

Edie found a pleasant spot overlooking the huge live oak tree at the entrance to the ranch, taking out her sketchbook. Somewhat later, Lady Bird found Edie engrossed in her drawing, and was impressed. She had captured the likeness of the tree, but somehow, had imbued it with LBJ’s personality. Lady Bird, whose greatest cause was the beautification of America, suddenly recategorized Edie from a daughter and shared lover, to a developing artistic protege. She would make sure that Edie had access to mentoring to improve her skills. Lady Bird found something for which to appreciate Edie.

That appreciation increased when Lady Bird glanced up to see Frankie working out, which had a flavor of artistic dance that appealed to her. “Edie, do you ever draw Frankie’s movements? I’d like to see that.”

In the spirit of mutual trust, Lady Bird commented, “It’s good for the country, I think, that both Jackie and I truly enjoy beauty and want more of it into American culture. I think she does accomplish things that I could not, by being in the center of the artistic and beauty process, and being thought of as a beauty and fashion exemplar.

“I think of myself as an agent of beauty, not so much part of it. When I can help create parks and gardens, or encourage young artists such as yourself, it delights me. In a different way, Lyndon and Jack complement one another, and they’re trying to see if they can make that work. Lyndon started out with poor people, and has an emotional connection that Jack does not. He dominates with personal power. Jack, however, was born to power and luxury, and simply wants to extend that to others.

She looked sad. “While Lyndon genuinely cares, it’s Jack’s picture that is on the walls of poor people around the world.”

Frankie finished, and headed back to the guest house for a shower. She encountered R.B. Jones. “Frankie, I noticed you, and your friends, didn’t get upset at all with VOLUNTEER’s driving.”

“VOLUNTEER?”

“Oh, that’s LBJ’s radio call sign. Nothing really secret about it. Anyway, I was wondering if you and some others might be interested, while we’re at the ranch and have a safe driving area, in learning some of the advanced survival driving techniques that I teach to the Service?”

“Oh, I’d love it!” Do whatever you can to encourage this. We cannot say more, but at some point not too far away, the Secret Service’s driving skills and procedures may be the most important thing in the world. You can emphasize the importance.

Washington and Saigon

Much was happening back in DC. I spoke to the Clan, along with Eleanor Hilsman. “I have the sense that the Buddhist crisis is just the start. Let’s convey this thought to Roger, and, where possible, to JFK. It’s clear to me that the regime was confronted not with a dissident religious minority, but with a grave crisis of public confidence. The Buddhist protest is the center of mobilizing the widespread popular resentment of an arbitrary and often oppressive rule.