Chapter 33

“So, are you two ... an item, then?” I teased Mayor Theodore Lansing of the Free City of Charlottesville.

“Well, lately yes, but I naturally wonder if a Prophetess with an angelic father will have any time for a mere mortal like me,” Lansing answered with a self-deprecating joke that poorly concealed his real insecurity.

“Oh, hush, you! I wear the pants in our relationship and you know it! I always have! Why on Earth would I want to give that up, sugar? At least with you, I get to boss around a fucking mayor! Is a Prophetess allowed to say that word? Oh, well, bite me if you mind!” Sarah put her lovely dark hands on her hips as her piercing, coal-black eyes flashed with impish sass.

“I can see that the grand tradition of Prophets with snark continues!” I chuckled now.

“Apparently so, at least with us,” Sarah winked at me as she unzipped the Mayor’s pants in front of everyone and openly took him into her mouth.

Lansing gasped for a second while Sarah pleasured him, much to his surprise, as he didn’t expect her to kneel and suck his dick right after asserting her own dominance. She showed him no mercy, either, practically inhaling his cock while his pulse raced and he tried to hold back from his release. The rest of the throng coughed and laughed awkwardly as they watched Sarah service her boyfriend, the Mayor of Charlottesville.

Finally, of course, the Mayor sputtered as he shot his load down Sarah’s throat and she arose to wipe her mouth with apparent satisfaction. She kissed him very hard on the lips while slipping her hands down his pants for a moment. Then she patted him on the butt for a moment before turning to the rest of us.

“Okay, I’ve eaten. The rest of you, especially the guest of honor, bon appetit, as the French would say,” Sarah winked at me now.

“You’re not really on a cum-only diet, are you?” I teased Sarah while fondling my girls.

“Strictly speaking, no, but if I had to, it would more than nourish me, as much as I like to swallow. Ted here can testify to that, can’t you, dear?” Sarah smiled at him, “anyway, it seems that we have our exalted status in common, but as you can see, I’m never too high and mighty to take care of my man.”

“And on that note, allow me to ... um, toast our guest of honor, the great Prophet Adam Clarke. And to his lovely companions. To ... um prophecy, I guess. Hopefully without a Christopher Walken cameo. Nothing against him, but have you seen those films? Prophecies and he don’t mix,” Lansing nervously joked.

“I was about to say ... I’m a big Christopher Walken fan,” I pointed out.

“So am I, even if he needs more cowbell,” Councilman Ira Sanchez laughed heartily at his own joke.

“Cute,” Councilwoman Agnes Culver chimed in, trying to act and look younger than her sixty years.

“Get a room,” I teased them both.

‘Well, if a Prophet tells us to, maybe we should,” Agnes giggled and blushed, while Ira nearly fell over laughing.

“I damn sure would,” Bubba Joe Mackenzie chortled.

“With Agnes or Sarah?” Godwin Marx broke his own silence.