Chapter 19
Olivia had been walking around for six months like a zombie. She was back running her business full time. She had left the White House and the love of her life behind. Their love affair hadn't soured, he still wanted her but she just couldn't do it anymore. His bitch of a wife knew about them and her actions had thrown a loop at Olivia. It was like Mellie Grant knew but she didn't care as long as they were discreet. Someone had been watching them and reporting back to his wife. It was like she was a call girl that had been put into service for the President at the First Lady's request. But she had gotten too familiar with him so now she was complaining. It was weirdo shit and she didn't want to be part of it. Let Mellie Grant pimp her husband out elsewhere.
Her misery knew no bounds. She was heartbroken. There was little choice in the matter. He was the President of the United States he could never leave his wife. He could never be just hers. She was never going to have his babies. Nothing they had dreamed of was going to happen and Olivia Pope was inconsolable.
She had taken to watching the news morning, noon, and nights to get glimpses of him. He looked good, real good she missed him. Cyrus had told her he was drinking though, trying to forget her. She wasn't going to let Cyrus make her feel guilty for leaving him. He had even suggested she let him sneak her into the White House so they could make up. He wanted her to do it for the good of the country he had said. The man needed to have his stress relieved. In other words he wanted her to make a booty call to the White House. She wasn't surprised he would come at her like that. Cyrus had no qualms about calling a spade a spade.
"He needs a good fuck Olivia. He is about to lose his damn mind behind this, Liv. It's not like you aren't still in love with the guy. He needs to dip his wick."
Olivia was shaking her head. Cyrus Beene was incorrigible! "Fitzgerald Grant has a wife, tell him to go fuck her! Let him dip his wick there."
"LIv don't be so mean. You know he isn't going to go there. He hates her guts. Six months is a long time, you could probably use a recharge yourself."
"Cyrus I am not going to fuck the President, get that through your head. I have a client that actually owns a brothel right here in DC. Do you want her number?"
"Okay Olivia have it your way. I was being a little crude but I know you two still love each other I was just trying to play matchmaker. I guess you two plan to just dry up on the vine. Consider the offer rescinded to smuggle you in. I see you are offended."
"I am offended Cy. You know I love him, I wish I didn't but I do. Mellie Grant was using me Cy I realize that now. She knew what was going on between us. Once she realized that the thing between me and Fitz wasn't just sex that we truly loved each other suddenly she no longer wanted to be a pimp! I am sickened by this entire thing."
"She has turned something beautiful and loving into something I will no longer be a part of. Mellie Grant would turn this into some type of perverted three-way where I am a damned handmaiden and she is watching. It is all just too much. I am out. I told your boss that and now I am telling you. We are done!" She had walked away from her old friend and she had gone home to be miserable.
Now she couldn't even sit down with an old friend without him trying to use her. Her life was a piece of shit at this point. Even work wasn't work anymore. There were no late night phone calls with her best friend to go over her day or to go over his day. There wasn't any unbelievable phone sex, there were no stolen moments in the White House, there was just nothing. She didn't even find solace in a bowl of popcorn and her expensive wines. She had popped the cork and she was drinking wine like it was water. She never drank to the excess, but tonight she wanted to. She undressed and got into tub of bubbles with her glass of wine and started to cry.
She was sick of crying and she was sick of missing him. Olivia had started the affair with Fitz on the campaign trail when he was Governor of California. She had known better, you don't mix business with pleasure. He was her client and she didn't get involved with her clients. It was a personal code of conduct that she had. But he had asked her to be inappropriate and she had been for two years. Two years of the most wonderful years of her life had been spent loving him.
She got out of the tub and began to dry herself off. She started rubbing the towel over her body and it brought back memories of getting out of the shower and Fitz toweling her dry. She remembered his big hands roaming over her body and touching her in special places. She started to rub the towel over her body. She moved it in between her legs and started to pull it back and forth. It wasn't enough. She dropped the towel and put her middle finger inside her and started moving it in and out of her it wasn't enough. What the hell was wrong with her? What the hell was she doing?"
She stopped the madness and had gone over to the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. She was thirty-two years old. She should be out on the town having a wonderful life with some guy her own age. She could bring him back here and take him to her bed and maybe she could forget Fitzgerald Grant for one night. The problem was she didn't want another guy. She wanted him, she wanted Fitz. She could call him and he would go there with her, at least she thought he would. He would have phone sex with her on the Fitz phone.
She went into her bedroom and into the closet. She reached up on the shelf and she took it down. It was the toy Fitz had given her to play with, to insert inside her and pretend it was him. It was so long, hard in the right places, but flexible. With its fake veins, ridges, and bulbous crown, it was an excellent replica of her ex-lover, but there was nothing in the world like the real thing. She was desperate as hell. She needed to come. It had been six months and she was dying. Cyrus knew it; she was probably giving off some weird I need to be fucked pheromone."
She could call Fitz and he would tell her what to do with it. She could come over and over again while he talked dirty to her. God she was already so wet she doubted if she needed to lube the thing. She was looking at the Fitz phone. It had stopped ringing months ago when she supposed Fitz realized she would no longer answer it. He was in town. All she had to do was take her finger and press one number and say she needed it, she needed him!
She had promised him that this was to be something for them to experience together, never alone. "It is for when we can't be together Livvie." She had used a vibrator before as a single woman. It can give you a stimulating sexual release but it was way overrated. When you had your man telling you what to do with it in your ear, it brought the experience to another entire level. She was left weak as shit after phone sex with Fitzgerald Grant. She wanted it right now. She dialed all of the numbers but one. She sat the phone beside her and started to stare at it again. She wanted sex and she wanted it with him. She wasn't going to call him, she wasn't. She picked up the phone and threw it.
She picked up the vibrator and placed it inside her and turned it on. She moved it right on her hot spot and waited. Olivia moved her body into it, she upped the speed. She didn't feel a goddamned thing. She closed her eyes and wanted to weep but she didn't. She pulled the fake penis from her body and got up from the bed. In the bathroom she cleaned the thing up and placed it back in the case and put it back on the shelf. This wasn't going to become her life. Olivia Pope wasn't going to spend the rest of her life in her bed alone masturbating. Fuck Fitzgerald Grant and the Mayflower that brought his damned ancestors over here!
Olivia went to the kitchen and pulled out her gourmet bag of popcorn. Standing before one of the last original air popcorn poppers, she said, "I am hungry." She poured in a full cup of kernels and stood back to watch her bounty form. Tomorrow was a new day and she promised herself she would do better.
Her counterpart Fitzgerald Grant was suffering too, he missed Olivia like hell. In his delirium he had hired an old navy buddy of his that specialized in surveillance to keep an eye on Olivia. This was done under the pretense that she and her firm may be involved in some shady government deals. No, he didn't want the entire office observed, just Olivia Pope. He wanted weekly detailed reports with pictures. It was a course of action destined to change the lives of both the President and his ex-lover.