#82: Mr Right Now

It’s time for bed, you’ve had a glass or two of wine and you’ve been sitting in front of the plasma TV watching election advertising all evening. They say there’s no aphrodisiac like fear and you’re convinced that the union bosses will be around to destroy the economy, abolish your job and paint TERRORISTS WELCOME on your front door mat within moments of John and Janet leaving the keys to Kirribilli House in the letterbox.

You do what anyone would do and turn to an old flame for comfort. Sure, the passion has waned over the years and he doesn’t look like much, but the candlelight’s glinting off his scalp and you know from experience that if you hop into the sack with Ol’ Johnny, you’ll get thoroughly screwed every single time. You want leadership and while you might not be convinced he’s Mr Right, he’ll do at a pinch as Mr Right Now.

The trouble with John is his mate Pete. There’s not a conservative politician on the planet without a few kinks up his sleeve (and various other orifices) and up ’til now, you’ve been reasonably comfortable with Pete watching from the corner and sometimes under the bed. There’s a slightly disturbing smirk on his face, but he’s kept his hands strictly to himself (with the aid of just a touch of lubricant).

All of a sudden though, it’s three in a bed and Mr Right Now has been joined by Mister Right Behind Him. The smirk’s cranked up a couple of centimetres, there’s an unholy hunger in his eyes and you’re not sure quite what’s lurking under the sheets. Come to think of it, that Rudd fellow doesn’t look like he’s up for too much of the kinky stuff and if you let him pop down to the local pole dancing club now and then, he’ll probably leave you alone most of the time…