Chapter 31

The Virginia General Assembly Building, a twelve story structure which used the limestone facade of its predecessor, was located at the intersection of East Broad Street and North Ninth Street in Richmond. This is where State Senator Richard Chapmann had his office. As a member of the present majority, Senator Chapmann’s staff was busy putting together the list of candidates for which the full state assembly would be voting to fill vacant judgeships.

As expected, when I contacted his office and mentioned my relationship to the late Antonio Balio, and the fact that I intended to continue the very generous political and monetary support that my family had shown him, I had no problem finagling an appointment.

The assembly was not yet in session but many members of both houses were already in Richmond preparing for the start of the session just after the holidays. Sessions in all years start the second Wednesday in January. In even-numbered years they meet for 60 days. In odd number years for 45 days. They reconvene on the sixth Wednesday after the session ended to deal with legislation the governor vetoed. Working in the Virginia legislature is very much a part time job.

The three of us took the drive up to Richmond, but it was decided that I would speak to the senator alone. I reserved rooms in the Berkerley, a four star hotel just a couple of blocks from the state capital.

As might be expected, Emily was excited and overwhelmed by the opulent fixtures of the hotel. The building itself was a red brick edifice. A mere six stories, it was a combination of classic comfort and modern conveniences. The lush carpets and dark wood molding were far beyond the motels that she was accustom to staying at.

If the staff thought it odd that I was at the hotel with two women not word was mentioned about it. The suite had a king four poster bed, a desk and a large seating area, as well as another bed likely to remain unused. The balcony was also likely to remain unused, considering the cold weather.

Fortunately Darla had insisted that both ladies have an upgraded wardrobe for their trip to the ‘big city’. So though we were dressed for the ride, both ladies had nicer clothing for the dinner we intended to have after my meeting.

I had also brought along a suit. I had no problem snubbing the purchasers of my company, but I wanted something from the senator and needed him to consider me seriously. Still, it was not a ridiculously expensive suit. It was the mid-priced suit a local politician would wear.

The weather was brisk, but my overcoat was adequate to keep me warm for the short walk to the General Assembly Building. The public areas of the building showed its recent renovation. I had no problem finding the senator’s office.

The receptionist was professional looking and turned me over to the senator’s assistant. Rather she turned me over to his son. The man looked about a decade older than he had been when the video was made in the hot tub at the loft. I noted he was wearing a wedding ring and remembered that the woman in the same video was now his wife. I had reviewed the recording in detail before coming down.

I had no doubt the existence of such a recording would concern the senator if he knew about it. I was going on the working premise that he did not. It was not my intention to reveal to him its existence.

Junior offered me his hand.

“Welcome to Richmond, Mr. Becket. I understand that, as well as being a supporter, you sit on the Lesserton town council.” He gestured for me to follow him. “Is there something we can do for you as far as the town is concerned?”

“There is Mr. Chapmann. I was hoping to discuss the relevant issues with the senator.”

“Oh you’ll have the chance. The senator is running just a little behind today. The governor’s office called and I’m afraid that was unexpected.”

The governor and the senator were of the same party at this time. I could see that response to an issue brought up by the governor or his senior staff might call for immediate response from the senator. I hoped I would not be pushed completely out.

The son led me to a small room. An aid come by with coffee after a few minutes.

“Have you ever been down our way, Mr. Chapmann?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’ve gotten to most places in the state at one time or another, Mr. Becket. I don’t think I’ve been to your fair town for quite awhile.”

“We’re not exactly in the midst of things, I’ll admit,” I said.

Just then I heard his phone ding. He pulled it out and checked it.

“It looks like the senator is free now,” he said standing.

I followed to the senator’s office. There was another desk outside his door. I recognized the woman sitting there as she had been on the video too. It was junior’s wife. Like him she appeared about a decade older, but the years and a plastic surgeon had been kind to her. Her hair was no longer green.

The senator stood to meet me, his hand extended.

“Mr. Becket. I must say that your uncle mentioned you in passing. He was proud of your accomplishments. I hear that you have followed in his footsteps back in Lesserton.”

“I’m pleasantly surprised that you remember us, Senator.”

He gesture for me to be seated. Junior left us alone.

“Lesserton was a special project of your uncle Mr. Becket. I like to think that I help him in some small way to help the town blossom at a time we’re losing many of our small towns throughout the state.”

“I’m glad you fondly remember our town.”

“I do indeed. I had the pleasure many years ago to spend a few days at your uncle’s place. He really managed to breath life back into the town with his support of renovations of the town center. That loft of his is really something. He actually left the whole place to us.” He took a drink of his coffee.

“I am interested in what brought you to see me. Is there something that I can do to help the town?”

“As you can imagine senator, the town has an interest in preserving our peaceful way of life. To that end we were concerned that Judge Michealson has expressed his intention to retire. We understand that a new candidate has been in the process of being vetted.”

“Yes. Ms. Smith, Esquire, I believe. A local as I understand it.”

“Yes.”

“So I assume you know her?”

“Yes I do. She worked very closely with Uncle Tony for years and I am sure he would have supported her appointment.”

“He actually did,” the senator said. “I spoke to him shortly before he died about the matter.”

“So it is your intention to support her nomination?”

“Yes it is and to vote for her when the time comes. While nothing can be certain until the vote is actually taken I can tell you that Ms. Smith’s record is of the kind that should garner nonpartisan support. I hope that alleviates any concerns that you or the town council might have along those lines.”

“I think it does. Judge Michealson has been very popular and we hate to see him go, but he has had a long career in the judiciary and I think he will be glad to step down knowing that Ms. Smith will be taking his place.”

The senator stood. My time was obviously over. I stuck out my hand.

“If you should get back down our way I’m sure we can find room for you again senator.”

“Thank you Mr. Becket.”

“That didn’t take you long,” Emily said as I entered the suite.

“So what do we do now?”

“How about dinner?” Darla said.

“Where should we go?” Emily asked.

“I have an idea,” I said.

The Berkeley Hotel is located in downtown Richmond on East Cary Street. I pointed the Wagoneer toward 14^th Street and picked up I-95. Passing through Richmond proper I jumped over to I-64 leaving the interstate at West Broad Street finally pulling up to my destination.

“The Cheesecake Factory!” Emily said.

Now if you have never been to the Cheesecake Factory I’ve got to say that you have missed a dining experience. The restaurants are decorated in a style that is an eclectic combination of Victorian, Art Deco and Egyptian columns. The menu is something that I knew Cheyenne would not approve of for Emily, as they are famous for their extensive menu of high calorie food including about fifty-eight different kinds of cheesecake.

“Wow,” Emily said. “I can’t believe how big the menu is.”

Darla and I ordered mixed drinks and Emily a soft drink. Darla pushed Emily to order from the SkinnyLicious Menu and agreed to do so herself. I felt no compulsion to deny myself, but appreciated that if I overindulged I would not be able to order one of their cheesecake desserts.

After the main course Darla and Emily split a Godiva Chocolate Cheesecake slice while I overate a Cinnamon Swirl Cheesecake piece.

Considering her pregnant state Emily manage to visit the bathroom twice during our dinner and again just before we left.

“I hope you’re up for some walking,” I said to my two ladies as we exited the restaurant.

We left the restaurant and as we rounded the building Emily cried out, “Stores!”

The Cheesecake Factory in Richmond abutted the Short Pump Town Center. This split level outdoor mall contained dozens and dozens of stores, many with items not available in our little town of Lesserton. Included in that collection was a Macy’s and a Dillard’s as well as a number of other smaller clothing stores. Unfortunately the Nordstrom closed in 2020 and the space was still unoccupied.

We canvased the stores and I soon accumulated a number of bags of purchases. As the evening pushed closer to closing Darla started to accumulate my overload. The number of bathrooms that Emily visited was uncounted. Many of the outfits were very small, fortunately, as they were purchased for our unborn baby. I knew that I was in trouble as soon as the Build-A-Bear Workshop appeared and was soon dragging along a cute rabbit which was quite well dressed.

As the stores were preparing to lockup I guided my ladies back to the parking lot closest to the Cheesecake Factory. When we reached the car Emily was more than ready to put up her swelling feet. Darla and I loaded our many packages in the back of the Wagoneer.

We took West Broad Street to the interstate and soon found ourselves back at our hotel.

“How soon are we leaving in the morning?” Darla asked.

“I don’t think we need to be in a hurry,” I said. “We can leave after lunch. That would give us time to check out the local area. I’m sure we can find a restaurant for lunch before we leave.”

“I don’t know how much walking I’ll be able to do,” Emily said. “My feet are really swollen.”

“How about a foot massage?” I asked.

Emily lit up. Back before Darla had joined us I had found that, like many woman, Emily could orgasm as the result of a foot massage. I had done a massive amount of research on the practice online and had studied various reflexology sites.
“That would be great,” Emily said.

With Emily sitting on the couch I pulled an ottoman next to the couch and Emily put her feet in my lap. I reached down and, remembering what I had read, attacked the proper points with a strong manual dexterity. I moved my hands over her foot for about five minutes.

“Ohhhh,” Emily said suddenly.

Darla, who had been digging through her suitcase on its stand, looked up suddenly.

Emily moaned again and it was obvious that she was enjoying the foot rub a lot. Suddenly she shudder.

“What the hell just happened?” Darla said.

Emily looked a little bashful. “I came.”

“No shit? No you didn’t.”

I just grinned and started on Emily’s other foot. This time Darla looked on with rapt attention as I started working on Emily’s other sole. When Emily’s eyes defocused I could hear Darla almost panting. This time I just kept at Emily and she sat there trembling as a string of tiny orgasms ran through her until I stopped touching her foot. Then she lay back trying to catch her breath.

“Fuck,” Darla said finally. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Move over Em.”

Darla sat on the opposite end of the couch and waited for Emily to move her feet out of my lap. It took a few minutes before the pixie girl could move. Then Darla rotated so that her feet replaced Emily’s.

My wife was not as sensitive as our girlfriend. I had to work on her feet for nearly twenty minutes. Then I pressed on the ball of her foot hard and her body melted.

“Oh God,” she whispered.

Like Emily, once I had the right nerve bundle, she just kept trembling. Emily was recovered by now and leaned over to kiss her, fingers entangling in her long dark hair.

I was hard as iron by now. As Darla recovered I stood and unbuckled my pants. Dropping them, I saw Emily had already exposed by wife’s breasts and was playing with them. I pushed up Darla’s skirt and hooked my fingers in her thong.

Darla spread her legs and I slid right into her. As I suspected her cunt was swampy. She was also on a short fuse thanks to her massaged induced climaxes. Within just a few minutes she was climaxing again.

“You’re such a slut,” Emily was saying, pushing Darla along by massaging her clit as I thrust into her.

Darla reached up and pulled Emily’s mouth to her own. The women tried to devour each other. Together we dragged Darla through two more orgasms before I felt myself getting too close to resist the tsunami of pleasure waiting just out of reach. Darla was playing with Emily’s engorged breasts, still much smaller than her own, when I started to shoot into her.

When I came to myself again Emily was kissing my neck and ears as I panted into Darla’s bare chest. Then I looked up at her and we kissed.

Next morning, after a very cozy shower, we had breakfast at the hotel restaurant. Then we headed back home.