NSFW: Tony Abbott And Cory Bernardi Caught In Passionate Embrace

By Samuel Leighton-Dore

Even though we still haven’t reached an official winner in last week’s federal election, we at Heaps Gay are thrilled to share the winning entry from our Federal Erection erotica writing competition.

The winner has received $250 cash and a paid monthly column for Heaps Gay.

Check it out – it’s deliciously dirty stuff.

“Climbing the Greasy Pole”
by Roland Taureau

The rhythmic pounding of feet hitting the pavement was a familiar noise to Cory Bernadi, as he raced across the smooth concrete framing the beach. With each inhalation, the smell of salty air invaded his nostrils, briefly caressed his tongue, then rushed down his throat.

He was not alone. A weekly run with his mentor, that stalwart of the Liberal cause: Former Prime Minister Tony Abbott, had been his therapy of late.

Bernadi enjoyed the exercise; the rush of endorphins and the chance to reflect and engage with a man he had so long admired. He’d learned to relish the satisfying ache of physical exertion during his time rowing for South Australia. The weekly run brought back memories of those happy days: the cox perched atop a sturdy bow, urgently commanding Bernadi to improve his stroke. ‘Harder! Faster! Steady…!!’

While warming up for their run, Abbott and Bernadi had discussed the offence the Senator for South Australia had recently faced at the hands of the new Liberal leader. That smug imposter, Turnbull, had announced earlier in the week that Bernadi would be bumped down the list for electoral preselection for his bum chum, Simon Birmingham.

Abbott and Bernadi had chuckled drily about the pair, deriding the way Turnbull and Birmingham minced their way across campaign events, a spring in their step like a couple of poofters. They fantasised about the demise of their enemies, imagining the sickly exhilaration of revenge. The prospect spurred them on, in pursuit of greater cardiovascular endeavours.

As they approached their destination – a drab, brick hut housing showers and a surf change room – Bernadi and Abbott sped up, each gunning to cross the finish line first, their footsteps like claps of thunder as they eventually stumbled to a halt.

They collapsed over one another in a sweaty heap.

Patting backs, butts.

Smiling, puffing and heaving, before making their way into the change rooms.

Once inside, Abbott made a beeline to the sink, where he generously doused himself with water. His colourful Lycra, already dripping with sweat, was now inundated by a small delta flowing from his follicular recession, down his face, neck, chest and back.

Bernadi sat opposite, on the change room bench, watching his idol with a grateful smile. He had long admired Abbott’s physique. Those sinewy muscles covered in leathery, brown skin, decorated with straggles of manly, greying hair.

In fact, despite every cell in his body practically crying out in indignation, Bernadi often found himself stealing a downward glance at Abbott as he strutted the halls of Parliament House, in an attempt to glimpse what was actually hiding beneath those budgie smugglers.

As the Senator sat there, surveying the former Prime Minister from head to toe, his eyes encountered an unexpected bulge. It was bigger than he remembered, but perhaps he’d just never looked closely enough. His gaze lingered: this was a special package.

As he traced his way back up Abbott’s torso, Bernadi realised that his idol was looking down at him, a crooked smile spread across his face.

At first the Senator didn’t know what to do, and momentarily retreated back into himself, but Abbott held his gaze. His grin widened, “You ok?” he teased, while slowly peeling off his sodden, Lycra running shirt.

Bernadi felt all the blood rushing to his head. He felt that familiar tingle, beginning in his groin then fanning out, pulsating through his entire body.

“I liked what you said the other day” Abbott continued.

“Wh…what? When?” Bernadi managed.

“That thing about the Party. About Turnbull just wanting to climb the greasy pole”

Their eyes locked. Abbott arched his back against the change room wall. Slowly, he traced a line down his torso with a gnarled finger, collecting the beads of sweat and water as he went. All the way down, his finger ran, finally stopping to toy with the waist of his fluoro bike pants.

Bernadi stared, transfixed. He was used to stealing glances at a modest bulge as it marched about the Capitol, but now he could see that, when fully engorged, the former PM was hung like a 2010 Parliament!

Bernadi moved to approach but Abbott raised a finger.

“On your knees” He instructed.

A wave of euphoria washed over the Senator. All physical tension was released. He had wanted this for so long, he realised. He just hadn’t known it until now.

Returning the Prime Minister’s lustful leer, Bernadi shifted off the change room bench, got down on his knees, and shuffled over to the man he so longed for.

There, he waited, watching, incredulous, as Abbott retrieved his hard cock from within his tight pants.

Bernadi stared, salivating with rapture, ever-so-slightly perplexed by the counter-intuitive realisation that the Ceremonial Mace leaned inexplicably to the left.

The PM held it in his hand for a second, before grasping Bernadi by the back of the head and guiding his protégé downward. Over the head of his cock, over the shaft, all the way. There he held Senator, just for a moment. Time enough for his gag reflex to relax. For him to begin to appreciate the alluring taste of delicate, salty skin.

But Bernadi needed no time to adjust, launching into his new portfolio with gusto and glee. Quickly, steadily, he moved up and down Abbott’s shaft, tongue and lips in hungry rhythm as the former Prime Minister melted into the brick wall behind him, breathing heavily.

Some minutes passed, with the duo engaged in ecstatic harmony, then Abbott reached down to grasp the Senator’s head once more. Bucking wildly, pushing his cock deep inside Bernadi’s hungry mouth, he finally unleashed himself.

“That was a tough pill to swallow…’ he gushed, slumping over as Bernadi powered on, with speed and urgency.

A few moments passed as that tough pill was well and truly washed down, then Bernadi surfaced, looking up at his idol with a glowing grin.

Still panting, Abbott looked down and caught his gaze. “I knew you had promise” he said, with a trademark wink.

Bernadi’s smile widened. “I have a question” he ventured.

“Yes…?” Abbott returned.

“Are you a lifter or a leaner?” he asked, grin now stretching from ear to ear.

Abbott smirked, looking the Senator right in the eye. Slowly, he turned and bent over the room’s grimy sink, hands clasping each side of its chipped porcelain.

In front of him, in the faded mirror, Abbott saw a murky figure rise and take position.

“Come on” Tony challenged, “Give me a dose of your common sense”.

 

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