The Political Widow


“No man is regular in his attendance at the House of Commons until he is married.”
– Benjamin Disraeli


Tatiana Aitkin found that digging her vegetable patch had three advantages: First, it kept her trim and healthy and saved paying gym fees; second, it provided fresh vegetables and saved money at the green grocers; third, since it required little intellectual effort it gave her time to philosophise on the chances and changes of life.

On this warm sunny Friday afternoon she was ruminating on marriage. She had been in this honorable estate for twenty years and so felt she was something of an expert on the subject.

Specifically she was mentally rephrasing some aspects of the marriage vows. This had arisen from remembering an old saying she had heard when a teenager, “The cure for love is marriage.”

Did she still love Anthony after all these years? Did Anthony love her? It was hard to tell because they saw so little of each other. The only time they were together a lot was during the elections for the State Parliament when Anthony Aitkin MHR was trying to get re-elected to the House of Reps. Then she and their son Jason had to parade in front of voters with Anthony, smiling and waving, just to show what a happy united family they were.

“What a load of bullshit,” Tatiana thought. I hasten to point out that “bullshit” was not a word Tatiana ever spoke aloud; it was reserved for her private thoughts and was used in connection with politics.

She plunged the fork into the soil, and that gave rise to another thought, although the connection was somewhat obscure. When had Anthony last plunged his penis into her vagina? Try as she might, she couldn’t recall.

There should be some changes made in the marriage vows she decided. For example the vow concerning life long faithfulness should be retained, but with an added rider that would read something like, “Unless the husband or wife becomes a politician, in which case the other partner should be allowed to take a lover without prejudicing the marriage.”

She considered this for a moment. It was odd, but a lot of the politicians had lovers, often other politicians, while their wives or husbands languished at home un-fucked (another word she never spoke out loud).

“An incestuous lot those politicians, perhaps they should be left to breed among themselves.”

She immediately changed her mind because such an arrangement would probably be the ruination of democracy since their offspring would probably also be politicians.

A political elite would be established. Her Plato was a bit rusty, but hadn’t he suggested some such arrangement?

She gave up that line of thought and began to consider whether or not Anthony had a lover. Was his failure to engage in penile penetration of her vagina because he was sowing his seed elsewhere?

Of course she had considered this possibility many times before but had never come to any firm conclusion. He was hardly ever at home, and seemed to consider home as a haven he could resort to occasionally, but even then he spent most of his time in his study reading parliamentary papers, or so he said.

If only she knew for sure whether or not Anthony had his penis in another woman’s vagina she would feel justified in securing a penis for herself.

She gave a little laugh as a mental image of Anthony arose in which he was screwing another MHR, Minnie Stone. Fat, hairy faced with a deep masculine voice, nevertheless there had been rumours that Minnie had been a naughty girl with one of the front benchers.

She dug the fork in again and as she lifted the soil she watched the worms wriggling and wondered about their breeding habits.

“Now supposing, just supposing, I did decide to take a lover,” she thought, “who would it be?”

Of course there was Alec Hardacre next door; he’d been wanting to get into her knickers for a long time and had hinted none too subtly about “A fulfilling relationship.”

“No,” she thought, “not Alec, he’s too old and his penis has been in too many vaginas. I want someone fresh, someone potent and yet inexperienced whom I could teach.”

But who?

The trouble was that the electorate didn’t like politician’s wives who strayed from the path of virtue. Of course they knew it happened but as long as it didn’t get into the media they pretended not to know it happened.

“And that’s another thing,” Tatiana thought, “politicians’ wives and husbands are almost as much under media scrutiny as the politicians.” It was as if they knew that the wife or husband didn’t get a regular supply of bedtime frolics and were waiting to pounce the moment the frustrated spouse strayed.

Tatiana dug furiously for several minutes, trying to shake off her thoughts, but without success. Her main achievement, apart from some dug over soil, was to work up a sweat.

It was a warm day and she was wearing shorts and a shirt. Since she was not on public view she decided to remove her shirt. Underneath she was wearing what seemed to be a cross between an ordinary bra and a red ataşehir escort bayan bikini top.

She chuckled, thinking, “The media really loves to get pictures of politicians wives dressed like this.” She imagined the caption that would go with a picture of her dressed like this.

“Titillating Tatiana Teases,” or “Politician’s Wife Shows What She’s Got,” or something like that.

Tatiana placed her hands over her breasts and thought, “Well, I’ve got something to unveil if I chose to.” This I have to admit is true. Tatiana has many female physical assets and not least are her breasts. I have no direct evidence as to their actual size, but at a guess, 34C. They were not exactly upturned with up pointing nipples, but they had retained their elasticity. She was of the opinion that her work in the garden helped her to retain some of her youthful shape.

Relishing the air now flowing over her body she stuck the fork in the ground and raised her arms to allow it briefly to cool her armpits. Now what would the media do with that?

“Tatiana Shows She’s a Woman of Uplift”? Well, something like that.

She returned to her delving trying to change the direction of her thoughts. She tried to focus on why cabbages seemed so hard to grow, and unable to deal with this she considered the meaning of the universe, but she ended up still mulling over the idea of a lover. Someone out of the public eye, someone young and virile, someone…someone she could bring to her house without arousing suspicion.

She considered assignations in hotel and motel rooms, but there is always the danger of running into someone who knows you; his house perhaps, that was a possibility but supposing her car was seen outside his house too often? The alternative was not to go there too often, but what was the use of that, the whole point of taking a lover was to get regularly serviced by him.

It all seemed too difficult and perhaps it was better to tread the path of sexual virtue after all, even if it was stony and scattered with thorns, especially for a sex deprived libidinous woman. No, she would have to work off her sexual frustrations by vigorous digging.

* * * * * * * *

Half and hour later she’d had enough, the sun was too hot and even in her half naked state she was sweating again. She plunged the fork into the earth, took off her gardening gloves and made her way towards the house. She was half way there when she met Jason coming to meet her.

“Thought I find you in the garden,” he grinned.

“Hello Jason,” Tatiana said as she kissed him, “what are you doing home early?”

“I was languishing for my mother and so I thought I’d skip the lecture and come home.”

“Liar,” Tatiana laughed as she slapped him playfully on the cheek, “what really happened?”

The lecturer was sick, terminal in-growing toe nails, or something, so the lecture was cancelled. I thought about working in the library, but decided to come home instead and bask in your radiance. Damned hot isn’t it?

“Yes,” Tatiana replied, looking at the thermometer hanging on the wall of the house,

“Thirty nine degrees.”

“And you been working out in this heat, you must be mad.”

Tatiana didn’t respond to that but said, “I need a shower.”

“Could do with one myself,” Jason replied, trying to ease his shirt that was sticking to his back.

“Me first because I said it first,” Tatiana said.

“Okay,” Jason laughed, want me to come and scrub your back.”

“No, but you could come and talk to me, I need someone to talk with.”

“Ah,” Jason said perceptively, “father not been home lately.”

“You know he hasn’t,” Tatiana said, “but it makes no difference when he is, he doesn’t talk to me, he only grunts.”

“I know what you mean, when I try to talk to him about my course he doesn’t even hear.”

“Typical,” Tatiana replied with a shrug. “Come and tell me instead.”

“While you’re showering?”

“Why not, you can’t see anything through the opaque glass, and I don’t suppose it would matter if you could. I mean I’ve seen you in your swimming things at the beach and you’ve seen my in my bikini and that’s almost as good as being naked.”

“It is a bit different mother,” Jason laughed.

“Yes…yes I suppose it is, but I’ll make sure you don’t have to look at my exposed body,” Tatiana replied, echoing his laugh.

Things were managed with sufficient decorum, Tatiana getting into the shower still dressed and then handing her things to Jason. Jason stripped down to his underpants and sat on a stool awaiting his turn. The shower glass wasn’t quite as opaque as Tatiana seemed to think and Jason enjoyed a pleasant if slightly fuzzy view of his naked mother. Not for the first time he decided she was definitely very sexy.

He had often envied his father’s access to her body, and at times Jason had fantasised that Tatiana was not his mother; she was someone he had met and they’d fallen in love and became lovers. The age factor didn’t bother Jason because he thought that an older escort kadıöy woman would be more sexually giving.

His thoughts had given him an erection, but his mother contemplation was interrupted when she called out, “Well tell me then.”

“Tell you want?”

“About you’re course…your studies, you’ve said you’ve wanted to talk to your father about it but he doesn’t listen, so tell me.”

“Ah, well,” Jason said, “we’re studying existential philosophy at the moment and I thought dad would…”

“Your father wouldn’t know anything about that,” Tatiana said above the hiss of the shower, “Now I did study existential philosophy when I was at university so why didn’t you come to me in the first place?”

“I didn’t know you’d studied philosophy,” Jason said.

“No of course you didn’t; you’re like most men, they think their mothers are stupid.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Jason protested.

“All right then, let’s talk philosophy.”

There now ensued ten minutes of philosophical discussion which can often be entertaining because you never reach any conclusions in philosophy. As someone has written, philosophers are like flies in a bottle, bashing themselves against the glass trying to break out, and failing to see that the neck of the bottle is open.

When Tatiana finished Jason handed her a towel that she wrapped round herself before stepping out of the shower.

Jason stepped in and then handed her his underpants. Tatiana sat on the stool drying her hair and it was her turn to enjoy a view of Jason.

Reverting to her earlier thoughts in the garden she thought, “Wouldn’t be nice if I could find a young man like Jason to be my lover.” Recently she’d been thinking like that a lot, telling herself it was a pity Jason was her son. There was the age difference, but then there would be the pleasure of teaching him the art of sexual love.

Through the glass screen she could dimly see his erection. Yes, someone just like Jason who would…”Jason, what do you think about adultery?”

Because of the hiss of the shower Jason misheard her, “What…adulthood…what about…?”

“No…no, adultery, you know, when a man and a woman…”

“I know what adultery is mother, what do you want me to say?”

“It isn’t what I want you to say, I want to know what you think about it.”

“Well, I haven’t thought about it very much.”

“Then think about it now,” Tatiana said loudly.

“I…er…well…it depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“There’s a lot of it goes on.”

“I know there’s a lot of it goes on, but what do you think about it?”

“It depends on the situation.”

“You’re avoiding the question Jason,” Tatiana said impatiently.

“Yes, I know I am because I don’t know what to say…you’re not committing adultery, are you?”

“No, but I’m likely to commit murder any moment if I don’t get an answer from you.”

With sudden resolution Jason said, “All right; if one or both partners aren’t getting sexual satisfaction with each other, then I suppose adultery is the next best thing.”

“You mean, it’s justified?”

“Yes, I suppose so; take for example you and dad, suppose…just suppose you weren’t getting any…you know, with him, you could get divorced but the electorate…

“Sod the electorate,” Tatiana said.


“Nothing…nothing…just carry on.”

“The electorate don’t like their representatives to get divorced and if you did his career would be ruined, so you stay with him, living in the same house, and you take a lover.”

“Very neat,” Tatiana muttered.


“Nothing,” Tatiana yelled, her voice seeming to be amplified because Jason had turned the shower off.

“Give me a towel,” he said.

Tatiana handed him a towel and he stepped out of the shower with it wrapped round his midriff, but it didn’t hide the protuberance jutting out in the region of his groin.

“Yes,” Tatiana thought, “someone just like Jason; a pity I’m his mother. Are you going out tonight Jason?”

“No, I thought I’d stay in and watch television.”

“Let’s do something nice, darling,” Tatiana said eagerly.

“Like what?”

“Let’s go out somewhere to dinner, I haven’t been out to dinner for ages.”

“Where, the Peacock Feather?”

“No, that’s where your father takes me — or he used to take me – he thinks it’s a good place for us to be seen together.”

“Yes, you remember, you dragged me along a few times.”

“Not me darling, your father, he said it made it look as if he stood for solid family values.”

Jason raised his eyebrows and asked, “Where is he this weekend?”

“He’s off to some party conference, or that’s what they call it. It’s really just an excuse for a booze up. I want to go somewhere where I won’t be recognised.”

“I know,” Jason said enthusiastically, “just the place.”


“Aha,” Jason teased, “you wait and see. Leave it all to me, I’ll make a booking.”

He began to leave the room but turned at the door, maltepe escort “You’ll be paying, won’t you?” he asked anxiously.

Tatiana sighed, “Who else.”

“Make your self look beautiful,” Jason grinned and left.

“And you put on some decent clothes for a change,” Tatiana yelled after him.

* * * * * * * *

As Jason said, Tatiana had “done him proud.” She was wearing a red muslin dress that seemed to enhance her garden inspired tan, and it appeared to cling to the contours of her body, and gave a teasing hint of cleavage. She usually wore her hair pulled back and tied at the back of her head. Tonight she had let it flow free an she seemed to look out from behind a mass of curls and waves that flowed down either side of her face to splatter over her shoulders.

You look lovely mother,” Jason has said, and she had replied, “Humph, and you look at least decent.”

Jason’s choice of venue proved to be a place called “The Tankard and Parson,” a pub that had recently upgraded itself to cater for people who had money to spend. It had the advantage of being more than twenty kilometres outside the electorate, so there was less chance of Tatiana being recognised. Recognition would have been made even more difficult because of the dim lighting.

They were swept to the table Jason had booked by an evening suit clad waiter, who pulled out Tatiana’s chair and tucked it in after her. There was a red candle on the table which the waiter lit, and a single red rose in a slender glass vase.

Tatiana was about to thank Jason for such a nice arrangement, but she remembered she was paying, so she said nothing.

Wine was ordered and menus scanned. They ordered Hollandaise soup with roast duck with new potatoes and vegetables to follow. They finished with Belgian pancakes.

When Tatiana saw the bill she thought what she usually thought on such occasions, “With my vegetables I could have made this meal for a tenth of what they’re charging.”

During the meal they had consumed a bottle of red wine and were in that convivial state that precedes actual drunkenness. It has been said that a little alcohol can elicit a lot of truth, and this was the state Tatiana and Jason had arrived at.

During the drive home Tatiana’s head was resting on Jason’s shoulder and she appeared to be dozing. On arriving home they decided that it was too early to go to bed, so they made their way to the lounge.

Tatiana kicked off her shoes and curling up on the divan she said, “Let’s have a brandy darling.”

Jason poured two brandies and as he gave Tatiana hers she sat up and patted the place beside her. They sat in silence for a while as the brandy nudged them further towards inebriation.

Apparently apropos of nothing in particular Jason said, “About adultery…”

“What about it?”

“Well I’ve been thinking…”

“Really, is it painful?”

Jason ignored her interruption and went on, “You aren’t having an affair, are you?”

“I told you before, no, but if things don’t change I might.”


“Do I have to spell it out Jason; try working it out for yourself.”

“Do you mean dad doesn’t…doesn’t…”

“That’s right, he doesn’t and hasn’t for a long time.”


“Would you blame me if I did have a lover?”

“No, I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t like it.”

“Why wouldn’t you like it?”

“I’m not really sure, but I suppose it’s because you’re my mother and you expect…you think of your mother as…”

“Being above that sort of thing?”

“Yes, and besides, you’re not like a lot of women…I mean, being married to dad and…well…like we’ve said, appearances have to be kept up.”

“That’s just it Jason,” Tatiana said vehemently there are times when I get sick of the whole thing.”

“What whole thing?”

“Hardly ever seeing your father, and when he is here he’s in his study doing something with parliamentary papers, or so he says; having to attend party meetings and rallies to be shown off to the crowd; having to organise the women’s’ fund raising group; having to be nice to people I don’t like because it might mean a few extra votes for your father; being dragged along by your father as an decorative adjunct — you’ve had to put up with that yourself; and having to listen to his lies when he tells them what he’s going to do for them if he gets elected; and having to count myself lucky if I get a kiss as he hurries off to some engagement. Does that answer your question?”

“But mum, that’s life in politics, and I always thought you enjoyed it.”

“I did to begin with, but now in public I have to wear enjoyment like a Greek actor’s mask; and what do I get out of it?”

“I suppose some status — public recognition,” Jason replied.

“Public recognition!” Tatiana exclaimed, “at times it’s like living in a fish bowl with everybody watching every movement of your flippers. That, my dear Jason, is why I shall probably never have an affair; it’d be all over the place in no time.”

The tears came as Tatiana went on, “It wouldn’t be so bad if when you father is here he showed some real interest in me. I didn’t get married to be a celibate nun or a political widow; I need something Jason — I need some emotional satisfaction. Will you hug me Jason, I haven’t been hugged for a long time?”

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