Previously:
Then I met Bob. Bob was the most ordinary man I ever met. He was thin and tall and nondescript and wore khaki clothes. Bob did not like spicy foods or listen to Prodigy. He had no interest in sexy lingerie.
"This is a rarity?"
I turn to look at him and he's more confused by this revelation then he was by the whole bath salt thing. "Yes."
***
She's kneeling on my bed and I'm behind her. It's ecstasy, it's glorious. She's screaming my name over and over. We're covered in sweat. Her chant of my name comes faster and faster as my voice joins hers.
I wake from the intensity of the dream.
And the ringing phone.
"Hello?"
"Get here. Now."
I look at the clock, it's 4:15 a.m.
"I'm on my way, Leo."
I won't have to worry about taking a cold shower after that.
***
He's got me in a position I have only seen in the Kama Sutra. All I can do is beg him to keep doing what he's doing.
I wake from the force of my dream.
And my ringing phone.
I glance at the clock. 5:30 a.m.
"I'm on my way, Josh."
"Good morning to you too, Donnatella."
I hang up on him, dragging myself into the shower.
Standing under the hot spray, I contemplate last night.
Josh thinks he's ready, even though we're in the midst of the campaign. Although it's not like we have to do anymore than show up until the Convention. Josiah Bartlet will be the Democratic nominee. We survived the censure, we can survive anything.
Oh never mind, this isn't about the formality of nomination that is the Bartlet for America II campaign. It's about the fact that Josh has decided he's ready for us.'
I need to make a decision. I really left him in limbo last night and that wasn't fair.
I'll make a list. Lists are good.
Reasons Josh and I should wait:
1. He's my boss.
2. Congress would find a reason to investigate us.
3. The media frenzy would detract from the campaign.
4. We would be a public spectacle.
5. My parents hate him.
6. We both have serious issues about making commitments.
Reasons Josh and I shouldn't wait:
1. Approval from Leo and the President negate argument 1.
2. What are they going to investigate? That I slept on the floor on the hotel rooms that he and Sam shared during the first campaign? Or that I share a room with Margaret when we travel now?
3. What media frenzy? 48% of Americans are lucky they know who John Hoynes is. Josh? 75% of Americans recognize Josh only as "the guy who got shot."
4. See number 3 above.
5. My parents hate him because he's my boss and they think it's his fault I never come home anymore. They'll get over it.
6. We love each other and if Josh can hurdle his commitment issues, I can work on mine.
***
The Palestinians started a new wave of suicide bombings and overnight they killed the U.S. ambassador's teenage daughter at a café in the Christian quarter of Jerusalem. Her husband was critically wounded in the same attack.
Al Caldwell and Mary Marsh are in the Oval Office demanding an eye for an eye. Toby is in his office working on a message of condolence to the Ambassador. Leo and I are in his office with Fitzwallace trying to determine what, if any, retaliation we can launch or what show of support we should give the Israelis.
It's going to be an incredibly long day and all I can think about is that dream I had about Donna. Is it me or are wet dreams always like the worst porn film you ever saw?
***
Last night redefined weird. Especially the dream part. Is it me or are wet dreams always like a bad porno? My daytime fantasies about Josh don't involve rough and tumble exotic sex; they typically involve ice cream and passion. I didn't even realize you could twist your body into that position and still have intercourse.
There's a note from Josh on my desk, next to a danish from the Mess.
"I'm in Leo's office. Cancel my day. Dinner?"
Josh brought me a pastry. Josh is asking me out to dinner.
This is wrong on so many levels.
I take a sip of my coffee and start reorganizing Josh's day.
***
Donna's waiting for me in my office after the morning briefing. I slump into my chair and try to lighten the mood.
"Tell me I don't owe Toby $20."
"You don't owe Toby $20."
Donna's got this smile on her face that makes me think Josh isn't always a complete and total Neanderthal.
"You owe Josh $20. He made it through the entire show and was a complete gentleman to boot."
"CAROL!"
Carol sticks her head in.
"Was it a full moon last night?"
Donna is laughing at me and Carol is looking at me like I've grown a second head.
"Never mind."
She closes the door on her way out.
"Sit down and dish, sister." I order.
She recaps the evening highlights, but I get the impression she's leaving something big out.
"Ice cream? He took you for ice cream in formal wear?" My God. Josh Lyman is a closet romantic. Who would have guessed?
We're interrupted by Toby knocking on my door, "Got a minute?"
Donna stands up, "I was just leaving."
She flashes Toby a smile when she squeezes out the door.
"Oh, Toby?"
He turns and looks at her with a raised eyebrow.
"You owe Josh $20."
***
I spent the entire day with Leo and the President trying to sort things out. I'm not sure if what we decided will have any effect on anyone, so I'm frustrated. In addition to being horny as hell.
Wet dreams are not a sexual release for me; they have a tendency to make things worse.
It's almost 7:30 when I walk down the hallway towards the Operations bullpen, hearing the low murmur of female voices. Must be the weekly meeting of the West Wing Senior Assistants Association.
As soon as they spot me, they break out into cheers, wolf-whistles and I think Margaret is leering at me. That thought drives me into my office, slamming the door shut behind me.
If you figure women out, please send me a memo.
***
Josh just turned bright red and bolted into his office. The sight of which brings more laughter and cheering from the gathered assistants.
They came to get the scoop on the show last night. When I mentioned Josh invited himself along in my roommate's place, they wanted details.
I gave them the Reader's Digest version. Nothing about afterwards. Everyone thinks I'm lying about how well behaved he was.
See why I can't tell these people about the after part? They'd have me committed.
Our daily meeting quickly disbands and I knock on Josh's door.
"Josh?"
"If you're alone, you can enter."
I slip in and shut the door behind me. He's sitting in his chair staring out the window at the South Lawn. He looks exhausted, frustrated and like he hasn't eaten all week.
"Josh, when's the last time you ate?"
I'll go with the concerned friend routine, because I honestly haven't seen him eat since Monday.
He doesn't answer me and won't look at me. Which tells me he hasn't eaten anything all week except the ice cream from last night.
"Let's go get dinner," I tell him.
"I've really got work to do, Donna."
Oh good, he's whiny, frustrated, exhausted and malnourished. Quite a combination for Josh.
"No, you really don't."
I cleared his schedule through Monday because I didn't know how long he'd be unavailable.
"What do you mean I don't? We're running a country here." He doesn't sound indignant, more like amused.
"I farmed out everything through Monday. If you come in on Sunday afternoon and read my index cards, you'll be caught up."
"You did what?"
***
I'm in awe. She farmed out my entire weekend schedule? I'd seen my weekend schedule, it was packed. Baring an international crisis, I have nothing to do until Sunday afternoon?
She's giving me that look. That one she gives me when she's not sure how I'll react to something she's done.
"You didn't happen to make dinner reservations, did you?"
"At that seafood place south of the Hill."
She gets dimple treatment for this.
"Crabcakes, Donnatella?"
"Lobster, Joshua."
"Surf and Turf."
She considers this for a minute.
"Deal."
***
Josh drives. He just traded the Toyota in a couple of weeks ago. The new Audi has heated leather seats. A girl could get used to this.
We're not talking about work tonight if it kills us. Gossip about Sam and his latest fling, yes. Tension in the Middle East, no. He teases me for telling the assistants about last night. I ask him if Toby and CJ paid up, and if they did then he should stuff it.
Dinner is good. We split the surf and turf. Josh has them burn the steak. I get my lobster. We have crabcakes. Wait, let me rephrase that, Josh devoured the crabcakes, I got one. So, when the waiter brings the dessert tray, I don't hesitate going after the chocolate mousse cheesecake.
Cheesecake is like sex. It's a rich, creamy treat you can get addicted to easily. That didn't sound right. It's sensuous, silky, like a good lover.
***
Donna has this look in her eyes. I was not aware that cheesecake, even chocolate mousse cheesecake, could do that to a woman.
"Maybe you should get that to go," I offer.
If that's how she looks ordering it, I'm not going to be able to walk out of here after she finishes eating it.
***
Looking at him, I'm really tempted to torture him by eating it here. I doubt he could take it.
I put him out of his misery, though, and tell the waiter to wrap it.
Leaving the restaurant, Josh has his hand on the small of my back. I never realized how often he did that until last night.
"Maybe we should go back to your apartment and discuss this whole Bob thing," I tell him when he opens the car door for me.
***
Guess she's made up her mind on what we talked about last night.
I slide in behind the wheel. "Yeah, so this Bob guy. Why is this so special?"
She looks exasperated, so I know I phrased the question wrong.
"Women like men to give some attention to their needs, Josh."
"I know that. What I meant was, hasn't, don't. There's no good way to ask this question," I blurt out.
"No, typically men do not spend a lot of time hanging out down there exploring. At least in my experience," she qualifies.
I have no experience to compare it to except my own, and I, personally, love it down there.
I ponder what she's telling me and feel the need to ask a couple of questions that will probably get me slapped.
"Donna, you don't have to answer this if you don't want to. And I understand if you don't. How much experience are we talking about here?" See I have this hunch that we're talking maybe three or four guys at the most. Probably all Republicans.
***
Do I lie? I mean, I have had a lot of sex, just not a lot of partners. There was Joey Hamilton, the football team's star wide receiver when I was in high school. It was a one-time deal and I don't think he was doing it right.
Then there was Brian, otherwise known as Dr. Freeride. Brian liked to have sex almost every night, he liked to be on top, he didn't like foreplay and he didn't do anything he didn't like.
Cliff Calley reminded me a lot of Joey Hamilton.
"Donna, I don't want a recitation. Just a general idea." He's prodding me to answer him.
"I've seen a copy of the Kama Sutra."
***
I know what to get her for Christmas, don't I?
"It's okay, Donna. I just, you know, don't want to pressure you into anything."
Our arrival at my apartment saves her from answering me.
Once inside, her nervousness starts to overwhelm me. I turn the CD player on to ease the awkwardness.
"Dance with me."
She gives me her shy smile, the one that makes me melt, and wraps her arms around me.
It's some new age jazz CD that Sam gave me last year, but it works. We don't dance so much as we sway to the beat.
I love the smell of her perfume. It doesn't clash with the lingering scent her shampoo leaves on her hair.
***
I rest my head on his shoulder, inhaling the remnants of his after-shave. Do I make the first move? Will he?
God, it's Joey Hamilton all over again.
That thought passes through my brain and in the next instant I feel his lips on my neck. The soft moan that escapes me is all about anticipation.
My arms are around his neck, making his ears very inviting. While he kisses his way around my neck, I run my fingers behind his ears.
***
My knees almost give out when she hits the spot behind my left ear. We're going to need to relocate this activity.
I bend slightly, pick her up and carry her into my bedroom, sitting her on the bed.
She looks a bit taken aback by this maneuver. Oh, Donna, I think you've got some surprises coming tonight.
"I don't have to go back to work until Sunday?" I ask, unbuttoning her blouse and kissing my way towards her belly button. She has a beautiful belly button, it's an innie and she gasps when I stick my tongue in it.
I unzip her skirt and pull it off, still nipping at her belly button.
I'll never be able to concentrate at work again.
She's wearing garters and a thong.
I head north for my own sake, sliding her blouse off. When I start to undo her bra, she begins to assert some control, as if she doesn't want me to spend time on her breasts. Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, I leave her bra alone and seek out her ears. She manages to get my tie off and my shirt unbuttoned. I stop long enough to shed my shirt and undershirt, shoes and trousers.
She scooted up the bed while I was stripping. When I next look at her, Donna is a vision in black lace lounging on my bed, her hands covering her breasts.
"Lose the socks, Josh."
Whoops. Forgot those, my boxer should go, too. Women steal my underwear all the time, but an old girlfriend once said she couldn't make out with a man wearing smiley face flannel boxers.
I stand at the foot of my bed, naked before her.
***
It's almost as if he's presenting himself for my inspection. I don't know when he hits the gym, but there's not a shred of excess fat on him. Oh, he's got some, but it's supposed to be there. No love handles, no paunch, nothing sags. His arms are beautiful. The scars on his chest are whiter than the rest of his skin, but to me they are a marvel.
Well-muscled legs, I notice as my gaze drifts downwards. He's half-aroused from what little we've done. He crawls onto the bed after a moment, sliding his body up my legs. I've still got my stockings on. I should probably take them off.
***
"Don't," I say as Donna reaches for her garters.
She stops and looks at me.
"Leave them on."
"Why?"
"I like the way they feel."
I want this to go very slow. If it takes six hours to get to intercourse, it takes six hours.
Donna deserves to know what her body can feel. She shouldn't be ashamed of any of it.
***
I'm very self-conscious about my breasts. They aren't very big. Brian used to tell me about the women in the porn movies he watched in the frat house, how he wished mine were more like theirs. A few years of that would give Pamela Anderson a complex.
Josh is stretched out beside me. He's running his fingertips up and down my side, from my shoulder to my hips. His touch is so light; it's almost not there.
"Can I take your bra off?" He asks, nuzzling my shoulder. "Or do you want to do it?"
A choice? I'm supposed to make a decision while he's doing that?
"We can do it together," he suggests.
I feel him put his fingers on one side of the clasp and without really thinking about it I reach back with my free hand to help him.
He stops kissing me long enough to help take it off. One of his hands is resting on my stomach. Now with my bra off, he slides it up to cup a breast.
Fondling it softly, he sighs.
I knew it, he thinks they're too small.
"I thought about having them enlarged," I blurt.
Josh isn't kissing me anymore.
***
I prop myself up to look her in the eyes.
"Why?"
"They're too small."
She's blushing. She's cute when she blushes, it's not just her face, her entire body blushes.
I break eye contact to get a good look. I'm cupping one in my hand and it fits perfectly. I lean down and take the other in my mouth, scraping my teeth against the nipple.
No, they seem just the right size to me. Any bigger and I'd feel like I was neglecting something.
She giggles when I tell her that, so I shut up and go back to what I was doing.
***
Running my hands through his hair, while he proves to me just how perfect my breasts are, I stumble across that spot behind his ear again. In the living room he stopped, like he couldn't focus on anything when I touched him there. In bed, his entire body just shivered. I run my fingernails around the spot, trying to see what kind of reaction I get.
"Donna."
Never in my life has anyone said my name like that. He reaches up and takes my hand, pulling it away from his ear. I pout against his kiss and he smiles in response.
Josh guides my hand downward and I can feel what that did to him.
"I can do that to you by touching a spot behind your ear?"
Who knew I could have this kind of power?
"When you put it like that, it's not so cool."
"I think it's cool."
For some reason, I feel more comfortable and playful now. I roll him onto his back and pounce on top of him. We both laugh as the tension evaporates.
"Any other spots I should know about?" I ask, pressing my body to his and kissing his neck.
"Isn't finding them on your own part of the fun?"
"Is that a challenge?"
"A dare."
It takes us hours to explore each other. Josh is amazing. I mean who would have thought this man who seems in tune with only his own needs could be such a generous lover? He found a birthmark I didn't even know I had.
Exhausted and panting, I look down at him. He's smiling at me, dimples showing.
"Now the garters can go."
"You won't do it for me?" I tease.
I'm flat on my back before I know it.
***
I've seen the movie Bull Durham a thousand times. It's my Star Wars. It inspired me to become a great lover. Crash Davis is my idol.
Distraction is everything, so I'm re-exploring Donna's belly button. I've got the garters unhooked before she realizes I started.
"You're good."
I roll her stocking down one at a time. Slowly. The garters I remove with my teeth.
"You're very good."
"Tired?" I ask her.
She nods.
"A little."
I crawl up next to her, pull her to my chest and drape the comforter over us. It's just after midnight when I glance at the clock.
"So. What about Bob?" I ask her.
"Bob who?" She yawns.