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Archive name: clinton.txt (MF, FF, cheat)
Authors name: Zefferman (zifferman@aol.com)
Story title : Clinton
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Clinton (MF, FF, cheat)
by Zifferman (zifferman@aol.com)
All Thirteen Chapters
*** Chapter 1 ***
Bill Clinton was out on the campaign trail once again.
There was nothing he liked more than getting out into
the hinterlands of America and surveying the lovely
landscapes, the noble vistas, and getting to know the
people. That's what he was known for. Shaking hands,
kissing babies, and rubbing elbows with the voters. He
was considered the most personable President of the
last twelve years because of his way with people. He
might not be much of a decision maker, but he was
dynamite during a one-on-one interview. Indeed, more
than one challenger had learned the hard way that
during a face-to-face town hall meeting he couldn't be
beat. He was so empathetic, so understanding, so
compassionate when speaking directly to an individual.
He had the ability to make a person believe that he
could feel their pain.
Yes, Bill Clinton was a politician's politician. He
seemed at ease with making promises which he knew he
couldn't keep, making plans on the spur of the moment
which he knew were balderdash, and pulling foreign
policy decisions out of his ass. Philosophically, no
one could figure him out because he stated so many
different positions on the same issue. One minute he
was a conservative, the next he was a liberal, and the
next a libertarian. Then he would switch back to being
a conservative. He reversed himself on so many issues
that he earned the name "Slick Willie". Hell!
Sometimes he would give three or four different
positions on the same topic on the same day! He even
confused the professional political pundits. Even they
couldn't pin him down.
But on one issue he never wavered. Not one iota. It
was just too important. It was pussy. He loved pussy.
He loved to look at it, he loved to pet it and he loved
to stroke it. Indeed, he loved to play with it, tongue
it, and most of all; he loved to stick his cock into
it. As far as he was concerned a man could never get
too much pussy. Never! Pussy and politics went
together like peanut butter and jelly.
He also liked going out to the hinterlands of America
for another reason. He got to check out the quality
pussy in the small towns and far-flung counties of this
great land.
Ah yes, pussy! That was what he was truly interested
in. All shapes-all sizes-all colors. Politics was
secondary to pussy. Principles were nothing compared
to pussy. The only thing that mattered was the pursuit
of pussy.
He loved traveling to the Southern states. States like
Mississippi, Tennessee, and Alabama. He loved meeting
those pretty Southern women with their pretty Southern
drawl. He liked the way they allowed their honeyed
tongues to pronounce those elongated vowels. Moreover,
those Southern women were so cordial and pleasant.
They always had a smile on their pretty faces, always
had a gleam in their pretty eyes, and always had a sway
to their shapely hips. He especially liked burying his
cock far up inside their pretty little pussies and
shooting a load of warm viscous semen into their pretty
little bellies.
He remembered meeting an attractive redhead campaign
worker from Georgia. She was so very pretty. She
simply loved him and loved his cock. During a whistle-
stop tour between speeches he fucked her for nearly two
days straight. And he was still thinking about her to
this day! Mmmmm! She was so sweet! So very, very
sweet. And she was still working on his campaign
committee somewhere down in the South. He would have
to check up on her and on her pussy the next time he
was down that way. He wouldn't mind shooting a couple
of more loads of semen into her snatch.
Bill also loved traveling to the Midwest, to states
like Michigan, Missouri, and Minnesota. He loved to go
into the small towns in those states. There was some
quality pussy in those little communities. And because
he was a big shot politician from Washington D.C.,
those small town girls were especially impressed with
his balderdash speeches and his nonsensical promises.
He loved meeting the midwestern women, getting to know
them, becoming familiar with them, and coaxing them
into the sack. They had such friendly attitudes.
Mmmmm! They were so hospitable to the idea of
receiving new cock deep into their snatches. They
would spread themselves especially wide for newcomers.
Bill could remember a lovely blonde he had met in
Minneapolis nearly three weeks beforehand. She had the
nicest personality, the sweetest smile, and the
friendliest little pussy. She was a farmer's wife and
didn't mind accepting his seeds into her fertile field.
He left her a couple batches worth of sperm to remember
him by.
Bill Clinton also enjoyed visiting California. He loved
meeting the shapely women with their lovely tans. He
loved to go to the southern California beaches and
watch the lovely hips in motion, the jiggling tits
bouncing, and the long legs scissoring. Once during a
campaign swing to Malibu he got one of the local girls
to stand on her head and fuck in the sand. He loved
it. Of course, sand-fucking did have its drawbacks. A
man had to avoid getting debris in his shorts. Such an
occurrence could cause undue embarrassment by inducing
a pair of scratchy balls for the rest of the day. And
a President of the United States wasn't supposed to
have scratchy balls.
Bill Clinton even had a fondness for Brooklyn women.
He liked them because they were so vulgar. Moreover,
they were the most sexually demanding of all American
females. They used words like "fuck", "suck", and
"cock" with the familiarity and ease of a Seventh Fleet
sailor on shore leave. They were also sexually
insatiable. They couldn't get enough cock. No matter
the time of day or night, Brooklyn women needed sex
frequently and desperately.
The President even liked traveling to the far reaches
of Alaska. The women up there were few and far
between, but they loved sex. And because there were so
many cold nights in the land of the last frontier,
snuggling was all the more fun. Indeed, bear-blanket
fucking was considered the state past time.
Yes, Bill Clinton loved American women.
Especially the shapely ones. Especially the ones with
the gorgeous bodies.
Especially the ones with the curvaceous asses which
swayed nicely when they walked. Especially the ones
who looked as if they could give a man a ride which
could leave him exhausted and living on a cloud of
bliss.
Over the years he had fucked his fair share of
curvaceous and scintillating beauties. And since he
had entered national politics he had really been
privileged to score. He had sunk his cock into more
cunts than he cared to count. That was why he had
chosen politics as a profession. "Serving the public"
was utter bullshit. He was a politician because he
loved cunt. Plain and simple. He didn't care if it
belonged to a tall woman, a short woman, a blonde, a
brunette, a redhead, or a woman with green hair. As
long as that cunt was clean and tight, well lubed and
deep, he chased it.
The American people had some inkling that Bill was a
cunthound. They had heard rumors in the press that he
had been involved with quite a few women over the years
and that he had carried on extramarital affairs with
numerous ladies. Nevertheless, he had been elected
President and those stories seemed to flounder.
Apparently Americans no longer cared if their President
was an adulterer. However, they might have been a bit
more concerned if they knew he hadn't stopped his
adulterous ways. Far from it. He was still fucking up
a storm anywhere he could find willing partners.
He'd been pronging women ever since he had been a
Governor. Back in those days it was easier to get the
pussy because no one cared what a Governor of a small
state did with his spare time. Now it was a bit more
difficult to hide his infidelities. He had to be more
discreet. Fortunately he had the Secret Service agents
available to keep the reporters and the prying eyes at
bay.
On this particular day, President Clinton stepped into
the television studio. The Secret Service agents
directed him to the center of the stage. He looked
around for his place to sit. Just then he noticed a
very pretty brunette sitting in a chair who was having
her face touched up by a make-up woman.
He stopped dead in his tracks. He could smell quality
pussy when in the vicinity thereof. As a serious
cunthound he had developed a sixth sense over the
years. There was some prime snatch within the reach of
his nostrils. He paused as he gazed at her. He
noticed that with each stroke of her luscious brunette
locks that her large pendulous breasts swayed a tiny
bit from side-to-side in a most enticing and exciting
way. They appeared to resemble overfilled water
balloons. Yet, there was no indication of dangling or
drooping. Everything beneath her jacket seemed to be
genuinely firm female flesh. Indeed, those mounds of
hers moved like the central pivot of a metronome,
rocking nicely, rolling enticingly, calling our for
attention, and telegraphing their sumptuous beauty to
passersby.
Being a serious cunthound, President Bill Clinton
smacked his lips at the appetizing sight.
Being a connoisseur of women, he knew that those
breasts were perfectly formed globes of female flesh.
He didn't have to see them out in the open, displayed
like those of a Las Vegas showgirl to know they were
gorgeous. He knew they were ripe. He could tell just
by the way they filled her blouse and lifted her
jacket. Their beauty was indicated by their spherical
geometry.
Simply looking at her made his hormones race. His cock
gave a twitch, his balls gave a tug, and his eyes did a
double take.
"That's the reporter who will be interviewing you,
Mister President," said John, the Secret Service agent
who was standing next to him, directing him across the
stage to his seat.
"Mmmm! Mmmm! She is a pretty one, isn't she?" replied
Bill.
"Yes she is, Mister President." John had been a
Secret Service agent for nearly twenty years. During
all that time he had never met a public official with a
higher libido and a more outrageous moral code than
that of President Clinton. The President was always
looking at females, checking out tits, comparing asses,
making lewd comments, and fucking quite a few of them
during the course of a day. John thought the fellow-
was insatiable. Sometimes he'd fuck five and six women
in a single day. John suspected that Bill had an
overabundance of testosterone in his system. The
President needed some way to work it off-and fucking
was the most pleasurable way to do it.
"Wouldn't you love to fuck something like that?" asked
Bill in a low, barely audible voice.
John cleared his throat and nervously looked around
him. In many ways he hated to be on assignment with
President Clinton. Clinton had started out by getting
pretty female Secret Service Agents assigned to his
security detail. He had said he wanted the detail to
'resemble America'. Well, it resembled America,
alright, if America was made up of athletic fuckable
women. When three of the female agents turned up
pregnant within a few weeks of being assigned to the
Presidential guard detail even Clinton had to admit
that a dominantly-female guard team perhaps wasn't such
a great idea. The man was always putting the Secret
Service agents on the spot by requesting that they
transport willing ladies to the Presidential Suite.
Although many agents resented being nothing more than
pimps for the President, they went along with the
program because they often got to sample the
"leftovers".
Bill was known to share the discards. It was the least
he could do for the guys who were willing to take a
bullet for him.
"Er...yes I would like to fuck something like that,
Mister President."
"I thought you might."
The Secret Service agents standing around the President
looked at each other and winked. Apparently they were
going to be sampling some brunette pussy later that
night.
"She's got nice jugs, hasn't she John?"
"Nice indeed, sir."
"Wouldn't you love to crawl between her thighs and lick
her until Tuesday?"
Although John wasn't a devotee of cunnilingus he always
agreed with the President of the United States.
Failure to do so could result in his reassignment to
guarding the former Vice President, Dan Quayle.
Nothing could be duller for a Secret Service agent. "I
would love to lick her, sir."
"You've got excellent taste in women, John."
"You've taught me everything, sir."
"Heh heh! Stick with me kid and we'll leave a set of
memoirs which will make those of Casanova seem like a
Sunday School picnic."
The longer that President Clinton looked at the pretty
reporter the more he realized that she certainly met
all the criteria of a fuckable female. He gazed at her
incredibly pretty face. He noticed her wide mouth and
her full sensual lips. Not only did she possess a
fuckable body, but she also had a very kissable face.
He liked it when he got two-for-one.
He immediately wondered what those pretty lips of hers
would feel like when they were wrapped around his cock,
sucking and lapping away. He had a hunch that she
could suck the blubber off of a beached walrus, or the
rubber coating off a new golf ball.
He felt a twitch in his cock. He wanted to fuck her
now!
He looked lower and marveled at her upper torso. He
noticed that she had a pair of full, up tilted tits.
They appeared to be a size 36-D. He loved women with
tits that size. They were so malleable, so squeezable,
so wonderful to play with while fucking.
Yes indeed, the more he looked at the shapely brunette,
the more he liked her. However, in keeping with the
dignity of the Presidency, he would have to feel her
out, before he felt her up.
The President stepped over and sat down in the chair
opposite her. She looked at him and smiled.
Although he was partial to blondes, he had to confess
that she was a genuine knockout. She was a sleek
thoroughbred amongst television newswomen -and that was
quite a compliment considering the large number of
good-looking women currently working as reporters and
anchors at the local affiliates and at the network
level. Even though the news business was filled with
quality cunt, she stood out from the pack.
He wondered why. Her body was in league with dozens of
other women, and she didn't possess any physical
attributes which they didn't have. He came to the
conclusion that her beauty was the result of the way
she carried herself. Her posture was perfect. Utterly
perfect. As a result, her breasts were thrust out that
much more than they would have been. Also, her tummy
curved inward more than it might have. And her face
was displayed in all of its perfect glory above her
sensually sloping shoulders.
The Secret Service agent told him that her name was
Phyllis Barret.
"Phyllis, eh!" asked the President while surveying her.
"Yes sir."
In every way, Bill concluded that Phyllis was fuckable.
Having met his criteria meant that Phyllis would soon
be fucked.
He stepped over to where she was sitting. "Hello
Phyllis. My name is Bill."
Her smile broadened into a sweet angelic grin. "Yes,
I'm quite aware of your name, Mister President."
"Oh please, let's not be formal. Call me Bill."
"Er .. I don't think I should do that."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because this is a television interview. The viewers
will expect some formality with an interview conducted
of the President of the United States." Bill sighed.
"Oh! Very well! Have it your way. I swear, the things
I do for the American people."
This was to be a preliminary interview. In other
words, the questions to be asked were those he would be
asked during the live interview scheduled in an hour.
The purpose of doing it was to give the President an
opportunity to familiarize himself with the subject
matter so that he wouldn't sound like a total idiot.
Many Americans did not realize such preliminary press
conferences took place in television broadcasting.
Instead, they were led to believe that their
politicians always conducted candid interviews and
studied their subject matter tirelessly. Little did the
citizenry realize the amount of time, preparation, and
coaching which went into every answer given by a
politician. In fact, in recent years the television
"interview" had become a quasi-science of
misrepresentation and distortion. There were now teams
of political professionals assembled in the White House
who did nothing other than image-making. The modem
Presidency had become nothing more than a series of
photo ops and evasive answers designed to make mediocre
politicians look like world-class statesmen.
Phyllis crossed her long legs. She was flipping
through some notes on her clipboard, doing some last
minute preparation for the interview; apparently
unaware of the luscious tableau she presented to a man
possessing a high libido.
Bill looked at her legs intently. He couldn't help but
admire their sensual loveliness and their alluring
curvature. He savored their sight. They were simply
spectacular. They could have belonged to a
professional dancer or a top-notch acrobat. He had
never seen better Of course, he wished that he could
see more of them. For example, he wanted to see the
entire expanse of her inner thighs. Moreover, he wanted
to get a glimpse of that region up around her crotch-
that area where her legs joined her passion pit. That
was an especially nice region. Heterosexual men like
Bill could gaze upon that region of the female anatomy
indefinitely.
But for the moment Bill had to be content with merely
gazing at her legs below the knees.
But the limited amount of leg which he could see was
savory enough. He glanced at her calves. He wanted to
reach out and fondle them. He wanted to run his
fingers along their sleek lines. He wanted to caress
the warm flesh in his palms. He wanted to lick her
shin with his tongue and nibble on her knees with his
teeth.
He swore that she had the loveliest pair of legs he had
ever laid eyes on. He wanted to strip them of
clothing. And admire them for hours. He wanted to
spread them wide. He wanted to hold on to her calves,
fold her legs over his shoulder, and lick her pussy
until she begged for mercy.
Phyllis sensed that she was being stared at. She
looked up from her notes and was surprised to see the
President of the United States looking directly at her
legs. He had a lecherous expression on his face and
his eyes were dilated with the telltale signs of primal
passion.
Out of habit, she squeezed her legs more tightly
together in an attempt to protect her inner thighs, and
more importantly, her pussy.
She cleared her throat. "Are you ready to begin the
interview, Mister President?"
"Oh yea!" he replied. He was ready to begin all right.
He was ready to begin stripping her, spreading her
wide, and fucking her for the next fortnight. If there
hadn't been others present in the studio, he might very
well have commenced his carnal designs right then and
there. "Yes, ma'am, I'm ready," he said.
"Very well. Let's begin." Phyllis looked at her
clipboard for a second and then asked, "So Mister
President, what is your stand on foreign policy?"
Bill didn't bother to look up from her legs. He kept
his pupils fixed on the womanly wedge formed at the
juncture of her thighs. That lovely vee was his
destiny. That region of prime womanly real estate was
his goal. Until he scored that goal he wouldn't be
satisfied. Getting Phyllis into the sack now became an
all-consuming passion.
Several Secret Service agents standing around knew that
the President's libido was getting out of control
again. They had seen it happen time and time again.
Anytime there was an extraordinarily lovely woman in
his presence, the President would get a hard-on. They
could always tell because he would start to move his
hips in a flagrant imitation of intercourse. In fact,
he was beginning to do that now. Thankfully, the young
reporter didn't see anything awry with his pelvic
movements as of yet. Apparently she was too enthralled
with being in the presence of the President of the
United States.
However she did think that something was awry with
Bill, for he had failed to respond to her question.
She was also disturbed by the fact he had neglected to
look at her face. He was still staring at the folds of
her skirt that defined her crotch. She pressed her
legs together that much more tightly, effectively
sealing her pussy away.
Phyllis was dismayed that he wasn't answering. In fact,
he was behaving as if he hadn't heard the question.
She cleared her throat and decided to try again.
"Mister President! Your stand on foreign policy-what
is it?"
He continued to stare at her crotch. He was wondering
how deep it was. He bet that she had a deep one. All
passionate women had deep cunts. He also wondered how
much pubic hair she had down there. Was there a lot,
or just a little? Did she trim it? What color was it?
He was also attempting to figure out if she were tight
or not. He bet that she was because she seemed so
modest. Modest women were usually more virginal.
He smacked his lips. He loved tight pussy. He often
said that if he were stranded on a tropical isle, the
only thing he would want would be a beautiful woman
with a tight pussy who knew how to cook fish. He could
live out the rest of his life contentedly.
Once more Phyllis was flustered by his lack of response
to her question. The man was still staring at her
crotch. He wasn't even attempting to hide the fact
that he was gawking like a lecher, nor where he was
staring.
She looked down at the juncture of her legs. She
wondered if perhaps there was something wrong with her
snug fitting skirt. Perhaps she had spilled some
coffee, or maybe there was a spaghetti stain on her
lap. When she realized there wasn't any food stains or
discoloration evident on her garment, she looked back
at him. His eyes were still fixed on her midsection.
His pupils were literally drilling into her and
stripping her of her clothes.
She realized that she couldn't squeeze her thighs
together any tighter, so she swiveled the chair a
little to side so he wouldn't have a direct view of her
crotch.
The President didn't mind the fact that she swiveled
around in her chair. Ironically the position she
assumed was that much more sensual than the previous
one. It allowed him to feast on her magnificent body
that much more and appreciate it from a different
angle.
Phyllis cleared her throat and once more said, "Mister
President, if I may please have your attention."
"Oh you have my attention, all right. You've had my
attention ever since I walked into the studio, you
exceedingly lovely female."
She blinked. The President of the United States seemed
to be bantering with her in a sexual manner.
She couldn't believe it!
She had never felt so much like a sex object in her
life! Not since Senator Packwood had stopped by for an
interview and during a commercial break had reached up
under her skirt.
"Mister President!" Phyllis exclaimed in an exasperated
tone of voice. The young reporter could feel the color
rising to her face. "What is your foreign policy?" she
stammered.
Bill finally answered her. "I think that all women
have rights. Everywhere. In every country on the
globe. I think that each and every woman should have
the right to vote for whom she believes in. Women
should not be denied the vote on the basis of gender.
Furthermore, I firmly believe that all women have an
unequivocal right to abortions on demand. It's utter
nonsense to a child into the world which is not wanted.
And in regards to freedom of expression, women should
be allowed to go topless, or bottomless, anywhere they
choose-anytime of day they choose. Nude beaches are
perfectly natural. Nude boulevards in certain sections
of our cites should be equally acceptable. Equal
rights for all - that's what I say."
Phyllis looked at him with a mixture of confusion and
concern. She was surprised that the President wasn't
answering her question. Indeed, he wasn't even on the
same subject matter! He was blubbering nonsense about
women's rights and nudie beaches.
Quickly she interrupted. "Mister President. I asked
you about your views on foreign policy, not about your
views on women." Immediately he ceased blubbering and
became apologetic. "Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I got
carried away."
"That's all right. We'll begin again."
"Thank you," he replied, feigning remorse that he had
ruined her pre-interview. "I was looking at you and
thinking of how beautiful you were. You have such a
pretty face. It's so expressive. And your eyes. They
radiate warmth. I don't think I've every seen a woman
as sensual as you." He was using his old ploy.
Whenever a pretty reporter asked about anything, he
would launch into his women's rights routine. That was
his way of breaking the ice and redirecting the
conversation back to her. It never failed to earn him
brownie points. And if a man built up enough brownie
points, he got to score.
Phyllis listened to his apology and his explanation of
why he had lost track of the subject matter. She
blushed. She immediately came to the conclusion that
Bill Clinton wasn't like the other politicians she had
known. He wasn't afraid of making a few comments about
her looks while in the middle of a television studio.
Most modem politicians were more circumspect in their
conversations with female reporters. Nowadays they
were scared shitless of sexual harassment lawsuits.
Naturally, like all women, Phyllis liked to be
complimented about her attractive appearance. She was
proud of her looks. She had a very nice body and very
pretty features. She supposed that was why she chose
to enter television news. If she had been born in the
1930s, she would have traveled to Hollywood and become
an actress. But she was living in the 1990s.
Nowadays, beautiful women attempted to make it in the
glamorous world of news. A woman didn't have to have a
brain to be selected as an on-the-air personality; she
simply had to took pretty and have an outstanding hair
stylist.
"My my my!" exclaimed Bill. "I just love looking at
your eyes. They're so blue, and so pretty. I feel as
if I could swim in them. Really, I do." Actually, Bill
had spent very little time gazing at her eyes. He had
occupied himself with her body. As far as he was
concerned, she might have a face like a wombat-he
wouldn't care. He would simply put a bag over her head
when fucking her.
But Phyllis had a body which was second to none. The
fact that she had a pretty face was an added bonus.
"Your entire face is gorgeous."
Phyllis looked around her nervously. She had been a
reporter for several years now, but this was the first
time anyone famous had made such comments about her
appearance. Keeping her voice low she said, "Mister
President, I appreciate the compliments, but I don't
think you should be saying these things to me."
"Why?" he asked as he scooted his chair around so that
it was closer to hers.
"Because we're in a television studio. Someone might
overhear. I wouldn't want you to be quoted out of
context." She was becoming increasingly nervous the
closer he got. His armrest abutted hers. He leaned
forward a bit. He fixed his voice at a husky tone.
"Perhaps we should conduct the interview in your
dressing room? Then no one will hear us."
She blushed. During her three years in television, she
had yet to interview someone in her dressing room.
Things like that weren't done in the modern era. It
was positively indecent of him to-suggest such a thing.
He noted the blush of her cheeks. He found that
heightened her sensual appeal. He had long had a
particular fondness for women who blushed. On numerous
occasions, he had found that blushing women were more
passionate in the sack. He wondered if the attractive
reporter blushed like that when she was getting fucked?
He bet she did. She looked like the sweet and innocent
type who still retained her modesty when getting reamed
by a giant pecker.
And nature had given Bill a giant pecker. He took it
as his mandate to use it as much and as often on as
many women as possible. At this moment only his tight
shorts kept all eight inches of it from tenting the
crotch of his slacks obscenely.
He loved her blush. He couldn't help wonder how far
down that blush extended on her lush body. For
example, did her breasts display color as well? The
tits of some women did; the tits of others didn't. He
would like to know to which group of women she
belonged. Perhaps she was a member of that select
group whose tits flushed entirely. He decided that the
time had come to get to know the pretty reporter
better.
Much better. Much much better.
"Tell me, are you married?" he asked with the bright
beaming smile which was his political trademark. He
might be a dunce on foreign affairs, and he might be
ineffective on domestic policy, but he was a sure-fire
winner in front of television cameras and with one-on-
one interviews.
The question seemed to unnerve Phyllis. The blush
deepened considerably on her cheeks, making her appear
that much more attractive to him. He wondered if the
blush deepened on her tits as well.
"Yes I am married, Mister President," she responded,
absent-mindedly bringing her left hand to her chest
just below her neck to display her wedding ring. Bill
leaned back and admired her. "My my my, your husband
sure is a lucky fellow."
"Thank you." She was as nervous as she could recall.
She was beginning to fidget in her seat. Unconsciously
she began to rub her buttocks on the seat cushion.
*** Chapter 2 ***
Bill smiled as he watched her fidget. He knew that her
squirming was due to her arousal. Her labia were
apparently swelling open. Bill liked the way her
jacket highlighted her large breasts and the way the
material was nipped in at the waist. He also liked the
way her skirt clung to her well-sculpted thighs in a
sensual fashion which highlighted her overall
sensuality. He could see that she wore no foundation
garments, and from what he could determine from the
slight sway and jiggle of her tits that she didn't wear
a bra either. Everything on her body was real and
genuine. No padded bras, no silicone implants, no tummy
tucks of any sort. Her beauty came from genetics, not
from a plastic surgeon. He would like to explore more
of that beauty. Indeed, he would like to strip her
bare, spread her wide, and examine her closely.
He had difficulty deciding where to focus his
attention. Tits or thighs? Face or ass? Calves or
nipples? Decisions! Decisions! The work of a horny
President was ceaseless and never-ending.
Again, Phyllis's heart went out to the President. The
way he gazed at her made her feel like the winner of
the Miss America beauty pageant. The blush in her
checks deepened. She felt as if she were on display in
the front window at Macy's.
The President had a hunch he was getting through to
her. "You know, you've been asking me questions, do
you mind if I ask you a few?"
"Well, I suppose not," she replied.
He noted that she had a shy and retiring way about her.
He liked that.
Modesty was as much of a turn-on as a woman who was
blatantly sexual. He knew Phyllis wasn't the type to
initiate sexual activity with her husband. She was
probably one of those girls who was happy to lay on her
back in the missionary position and do what the husband
wanted, when he wanted. She probably didn't spread her
thighs very wide during intercourse. Girls like that
were rare in modern-day America.
Because of their rarity, they were that much more fun
to fuck.
"Do you mind if we retire to your dressing room?" he
asked. "I would be much more comfortable talking with
you there."
Phyllis looked around her. "Er .. this is most
unusual."
"Say yes, please. I want to do the interview, but I
wish to do it in private."
If it were anyone besides the President of the United
States who had requested that of Phyllis, she would
have adamantly refused. But how could a tax-paying
citizen of the United States refuse a request made by
the President? It just wasn't possible. She had to
obey. It was her civic duty as a law-abiding non-felon
American. She prided herself on being a dutiful
taxpayer. After all, she was a good girl. All good
girls did their duty.
She grabbed her clipboard and pressed it to her comely
breasts. The womanly mounds of flesh flattened
slightly under the pressure. She noted that the
nipples had turned into hard little pebbles. She
wondered why. Usually they only did that when she was
aroused.
It had been a considerable amount of time since she had
last been aroused. Her husband, Harry, had stopped
arousing her a year ago. Sex had become an infrequent
event. "All right," she said. "Come with me."
Oh, he intended to come with her all right. In fact,
he intended to cum with her several times during the
course of the afternoon. He smiled wickedly at his own
joke.
He smacked his lips as he watched her rise from the
chair. He took special delight in surveying her.
Every time she moved, some part of her body moved as
well.
He followed immediately behind her. He watched the
shapely butt of the shapely reporter sway to and fro
with that unmistakable female rhythm. There was
nothing more alluring than the sight of a female ass in
motion.
Mmmmm! Mmmmm!
Over the years he had sampled a lot of pussy, but by
far the best pussy belonged to those women who knew how
to shake their ass with vim and vigor while stepping
along. That shaking indicated the ability to provide a
nice tumble in the sack. It meant that the woman knew
her stuff.
Mmmmm!Mmmmm!
From all appearances Phyllis knew all about shaking her
shapely ass. The rhythmic hip movements indicated
either of two things: first, that she already knew how
to move that ass while fucking; or secondly, that she
was a woman who wanted to learn. Bill smiled. He was
going to have a wonderful time discovering exactly how
many ways she could move her ass.
Mmmmm!Mmmmm!
Was she the woman who merely moved it from side-to-
side, or was she able to swirl it around like a
corkscrew too?
Mmmmm!Mmmmm!
Just thinking about such salacious hip movements set
off some significant movements in his pecker. The sperm
was beginning to surge in the base of his balls. His
cock was beginning to fill with the syrup of love.
The moment that Phyllis stepped into her dressing room
and closed the door, she realized that she had made a
mistake in agreeing to an interview away from the
cameras. She sensed the President walking up behind
her. She felt him breathing down her neck. She was
just getting ready to protest when she was pulled
around to face him.
"Phyllis baby!"
"Mister President!" she gasped in alarm while looking
up into his face.
"What on earth do you think you're doing?" She worried
about his motives. She had seldom been handled so
roughly by a man before. She had certainly never
expected the President of the United States to make a
move on her.
"I just want to sample those sweet lips of yours," he
said.
"But Mister President," she exclaimed with a raised
voice. "I'm a married woman." She brought her hands up
to his chest so that her forearms wedged between their
bodies.
He looked at her with a sultry smile and a sneer on his
lips. "So what?" he asked. "I'm a married man."
She could see that he was challenging her. His eyes
bore directly into hers. She could feel his
penetrating gaze all the way to the tips of her toes.
"I know that Mister President. That's why I don't
think you should be behaving in such a manner. I don't
kiss other men."
"Oh come on now. Surely you can give me just one more
little kiss! What would be the harm in that?"
"I ... I ... think that we ought to terminate
interview."
"Terminate an interview with the President of the
United States?! What would the head of your network
say to that?"
*** Chapter 3 ***
Phyllis gulped. She knew that Bill had a valid point.
If word leaked out that a rookie reporter had
terminated an interview with the President, her cushy
job as a Washington journalist would be terminated.
Good lord! That meant no more parties in Georgetown!
That meant no more dining in fabulous restaurants.
Good grief! That meant no more expense account!
Heaven forbid! That would be the worst thing to befall
an overpaid television reporter. Her refusal might
result in her being sent off to one of those awful
places like ... Rwanda, or Bosnia, or perhaps....
Boise! Egad! She would rather face a firing squad
than be sent to Boise. Death would be preferable to
such an assignment.
She now knew that she would do whatever the President
requested. She liked her cushy reporting job too much
to jeopardize it. Actually, she liked her megabuck
salary and all the wonderful perks which went with it
even more. There weren't too many jobs like hers where
all one had to do was look pretty and stand in front of
a camera for five minutes per day. She got paid
handsomely for basically being a lovely talking head.
Bill could see that she was thinking things over. Ah
yes! He loved modern American society. People were so
fucking scared of losing their job (if they were lucky
enough to have one which paid a decent salary), that
they would do anything to keep it.
"Tell me doll, how would you like to have an assignment
inside the White House Press Office?"
Those words caught her attention. "Excuse me?" she
asked, confused. Nothing excited a female reporter
more than the possibility of being invited to the White
House. The only thing more exciting was being offered
a job in the White House. And the only-thing better
than that was being offered a job in the White House
press office. That was the top of the pyramid. That
was the best slot in the business. "Could you please
run that by me again, Mister President?"
He smiled his famous heart-warming smile which had won
him so many votes in the last election. In fact, he
practically grinned from ear-to-ear. Now that he knew
he was getting through to her, he decided to lay in on
thick. That was the nice thing about having power; he
could wheel and deal his way between the thighs of
practically any beautiful woman.
Just like men, women all had their price.
Keeping his grin in place he said, "Just imagine, you
wouldn't have to do this on-the-road crap anymore.
During the middle of the winter you wouldn't have to
stand out in the cold on the White House lawn. You
could stay inside and keep your tits warm. And during
the summer, you wouldn't have to stand out in the
blazing sun and humidity and worry about mussing your
pretty hair. No rain, no snow, no sleet, no hail.
Just the comforts of working in the White House.
Wouldn't that be nice? Mmmmm! Wouldn't you like an
assignment like that?"
Phyllis blinked her eyes. She thought that she might
be dreaming. An assignment inside the White House.
WOW!
With her own office!
Double wow!
And she would probably have her own secretary!
Triple wow!
And if this was a typical government job, she wouldn't
have to work very hard and yet she would receive ten
times the benefits of people in the private sector.
Hot dog! That was the kind of offer which could
convince a good girl to go bad.
Phyllis had done nothing to earn such an assignment.
Heck! She had only been with the network for a few
years. She didn't even have a degree in journalism.
The only thing she had going for her were her looks.
But then, she noticed that her looks helped her win a
lot of promotions she didn't deserve. Oddly enough,
she noticed that, she always got picked for assignments
because of her looks.
"But ... but ... why are you offering me this?" she
asked in a soft trembling voice.
Bill smiled seductively. He stepped closer. The
breath caught in her throat as he lifted his arms and
wrapped them around her. He embraced her and held her
close. She could feel his warm breath on the sides of
her neck. He seemed to be nuzzling it, getting ready
to kiss it.
He placed the tip of his nose on her earlobe. Gently,
he rubbed it back and forth a few times. She found that
she liked the sensation. It tickled her and made her
feel good all over. She had never guessed that the
earlobe was an erogenous zone.
He kept his voice low as he whispered, "You have one of
the most scintillating bodies I have ever seen in my
life."
She was feeling giddy. And yet, she was quite,
nervous. "I do?" she asked. "Oh yes," he replied,
continuing to fiddle with her earlobe. "I would say
that it's as good as a Playboy Bunny."
"Oh, pshaw!" She knew she was pretty, but never thought
she was pin-up material.
"I mean it." He stuck out his tongue and touched the
tip to her earlobe.
She felt it moisten. She became momentarily
breathless. Other regions of her body were also
becoming moist. She couldn't help herself. The fluids
just seemed to flow.
"I would like to see all of you."
"All of me?"
"Naked."
Her eyes opened wide. In fact, her eyelids seemed to
have acquired the equivalent of lockjaw. They wouldn't
close. She couldn't blink. Now she knew the precise
reason why she had been offered a choice White House
assignment. She was being coaxed to going to bed with
the President of the United States.
She thought such shenanigans went out of fashion with
the Kennedy's.
Phyllis knew she had to offer some resistance before
things got completely out of hand. "But Mister
President! Your wife!"
Bill giggled. "Hillary?"
"Yes! Think of her."
"Hillary sucks."
Phyllis gasped. "Mister President. You're speaking
about the First Lady!"
"The First Lady is a closet dyke."
"A...a ... a ... what?"
"A fag."
Once more Phyllis gasped. She couldn't believe what
she was hearing. How could the First Lady of the
United States be a closet homosexual? If Hillary were
a dyke, what was she doing being married to Bill? "Oh
no!"
"Oh yes. Right now she's out in Hollywood, attending
some bullshit get, together with some of her bullshit
Hollywood buddies. They're all do-gooders you know.
They're either attempting to save the rain forests, or
the oceans, or the beaches, or the little animals, or
people who suffer from hemorrhoids, or women with
leaking silicone breasts, or whatever. In the old days
there were a lot of worthwhile causes to get involved
in such as cancer, or tuberculosis, or heart disease,
or tay Sachs. However, the Hollywood crowd has run out
of truly worthwhile causes. The causes nowadays are
increasingly trivial. If they can invent a cause, they
do. Then they found a non-profit organization, make
some spots for television and radio, and start a
campaign. Of-course, the actors and actresses who
promote these sorts of things care far less about the
causes they represent, than they do about keeping their
face in front of the pubic. If I know my wife Hillary,
she probably has her head buried between another
woman's thighs and she's probably eating her out at
this very second. You know, lap, lap, lap."
The news stunned Phyllis. She had long heard rumors
about the first lady and her sexual proclivities, but
she had never believed them.
"Is that really true?" she asked.
"Yes ... I'm afraid it is," said Bill.
"But don't you have sex?"
Actually Hillary and Bill had sex all the time. In
fact, they fucked more than any first family had ever
fucked. (With the possible exception of the But-but
then, Jack Kennedy was always busy committing adultery
on Jackie.) But the Clintons had established a mutual
understanding. If either one of them saw some pussy
which he or she liked, he or she would share it with
the other. It made for a happy home life and a very
happy White House.
Sometimes, Bill and Hillary would have a three way.
Or, they would invite some of the Cabinet members in
and have an orgy in the Oval Office. But Bill didn't
want to tell Phyllis that. He wanted her to feet sorry
for him. Then maybe she would offer him a piece of her
very own succulent ass.
"Mister President! You have your hands on my buttocks!"
"I know where they are, Phyllis."
"I'm married. Please pull them away." She hoped that
by making that statement he would do the decent thing
and release her from his grip. However, the words only
served to draw her closer to him.
He paid no attention to her plea. Instead, he
commenced rubbing her posterior with the palm of his
hand. He loved the feel of a shapely woman's ass.
There was something especially sensual about cupping
the cheeks of the female ass in one's palms, and
running one's fingers back and forth along the
curvature of the flesh, while at the same time pressing
one's fingers into the resilient mounds as if they were
bread dough and he was a baker kneading it.
He pressed her closer to him by her ass. He fixed his
rod of flesh to that especially vulnerable region
between the hollow of her thighs so that she could feet
his arousal. He adjusted his pelvis so that she could
discern the blunt end of his manhood. He wanted her to
know how he felt about her. He wanted her to know he
had a hard-on.
She knew he had an erection all right. She felt it
rubbing between her tightly clamped thighs, through the
material of her skirt and his slacks. And as a result
she become even more worried about his intentions.
Surely he wouldn't be so bold as to make a move on her!
Surely he couldn't! He was the President of the United
States, for crying out loud!
But she could feel the evidence of his need. And
because he held her close, she could feel every single
inch of it. It was making quite an impression on her
legs.
She attempted to appeal to his sense of decency.
*** Chapter 4 ***
"Mister President. I really don't think this is
right."
"Sure it is. It's as right as rain."
"No it isn't. I don't play around. Really, I don't.
Honestly."
He found that hard to believe. "All American women
play around nowadays."
"No they don't." She knew that a lot of women did in
fact play around.
Indeed, some of her friends committed adultery
regularly. Some even went so far as to say that they
couldn't go through a week without at least one new
lover.
"This is a hedonist society, lady. Where have you
been?"
"I am not a hedonist. I am a happy and proud puritan."
Bill snickered. "Puritanism died a terrible death some
time ago."
Phyllis became defensive. "Not with me it didn't."
"You're too beautiful to be a puritan."
His words touched hen like all women, she responded to
being called beautiful.
"I don't care. I am."
"I bet that underneath that prim exterior of yours lies
a woman of incredible passion and responsiveness. I
bet that other side of you is yearning to break out and
breathe free."
"You're very wrong, Mister President. There is no
other side of me other than what you see."
"What I see is quite gorgeous. Breathtakingly so."
Once more she was touched. Not only did he think her
beautiful, but gorgeous as well. Could he really be
falling for her? Was it possible that the President of
the United States wanted to have an affair with a lowly
network reporter? She was quite confused by this turn
of events. She was now having doubts about her avowed
puritanical attitude. Perhaps she was a little too
strict by today's standards. Maybe she should play the
field-at least once just to see what it was all about.
Besides, when one was asked by the President to do
something, wasn't it considered patriotic to follow?
"I'm a lonely man, Phyllis. I really am."
She knew what those words meant. She knew where his
line of reasoning was going. He was preparing her for
the conquest. "I don't think I can do anything for
you," she cautioned.
"You could ease my loneliness. You could make me seem
whole again. You could satisfy my carnal needs."
She took a deep breath and replied, "You have a wife to
do that. You don't need me."
"Hillary and I aren't sleeping together anymore. We
haven't for quite some time."
"Oh dear! Do you mean that you and Hillary no longer..
er... You're saying that ... er.. I mean... " Phyllis
had a difficult time framing her question. She really
couldn't ask such a personal thing of him. Such
questions were better left to Sam Donaldson, the
cutthroat journalist. Sam was terrific with those
questions which made a reporter resemble a son-of-a,
bitch.
The President took the opportunity to answer. "That's
right. We no longer do it. Never."
Phyllis knew that denial of sexual intercourse was a
terrible thing to happen to a man. After all, men
lived for sex. Men were always getting erections and
needed someplace to put them. She knew that to be true
because she was approached by wolves all the time!
Many of those wolves were married and had families!
But Bill wasn't like that. He couldn't be like that.
After all, he was the President of the United States.
And as everyone knows, Presidents don't lie. (Unless
one excludes Lyndon Johnson for lying about ending the
Vietnam War, and Richard Nixon for lying about knowing
of Watergate, and George Bush for lying about raising
taxes.)
But Phyllis was willing to give Bill the benefit of the
doubt. After all, he seemed like such a warm and
caring man. He seemed like such a nice fellow. She
decided to be empathetic.
"Oh you poor dear."
Bill listened carefully to her tone of voice. He
deduced that she was sincerely sympathetic. He decided
that he should press matters further along. After all,
he was quite horny. "My John Henry hasn't had any
female relief in ages."
"Your John Henry?" she asked, confused by the term.
"Yes, my penis. My cock. My pecker."
"Oh dear," she gasped when she had the usage verified.
Now Phyllis was extremely worried. Surely the
President of the United States couldn't have the same
vile urges that other men did. He was supposedly a
good and decent man. That's what all the campaign ads
said. Did he expect her to satisfy his John Henry?
Did he expert her to play with his John Henry and put
it into her vagina? She certainly hoped not. She
couldn't do such a thing to her husband, Harry. After
all, they had been married for only a few years. They
were still technically newlyweds. She was quite
satisfied with her marriage. She had no intention of
straying. She had no reason to cheat.
"A White House assignment for a roll in the sack," Bill
said with a smile on his face.
Now Phyllis had a reason to cheat.
Ironically, at that precise moment, she noted that she
was feeling slightly aroused. She suspected the reason
was because Bill had a tender way of stroking her
buttocks. He was quite gentle. He took his time to
lightly touch her flesh, and casually play with her
posterior globes. She breathed a sigh of relief as she
relaxed in his embrace. He seemed to have the hands of
a gentleman.
Although Phyllis didn't know it, the President also had
the hands of a practiced cunthound. He had gotten laid
as recently as that morning-by his wife no less.
Hillary had spread her legs wide and had ridden him to
blissful completion. She had even given him a blow job
before he went out to hit the campaign trail. She knew
that her husband thought better and spoke more
dynamically when his balls had been discharged of their
precious cargo.
"I need a woman, Phyllis."
"Oh dear." She felt his arousal pressing against her
lower belly and on down to her thighs. There seemed to
be a substantial knot down there. It seemed to be
knocking on her pubis, asking for entrance to her
feminine chamber.
"But ... but ... Mister President."
"Yes, you have a very lovely butt." Bill rubbed his
palms upon it, soothingly, lovingly, and caressingly.
She couldn't help responding to his agile fingers. She
was feeling better with every caress.
"The moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you."
"Please Mister President. Don't do this to me."
"Call me Bill."
Phyllis didn't like referring to him by his first name.
However, she would do anything to extricate herself
from his pawing hands. "Please Bill."
"I know you want it as much as I do."
"Please." Like all women in similar situations, her
resistance was rapidly vanishing. The longer he held
her, the more he caressed her ass, the more insistently
he pressed his manhood against her Mound of Venus, the
more eager she was to consummate a relationship with
the Chief Executive. It wasn't long before she began
to press her pelvis against his, encouraging him.
"That's it baby, rub against me. Show me that you like
me."
She did. She could feel her little pussy beginning to
pout open. Her cunt was acting like an out-of-control
animal. It wanted to go on a feeding frenzy.
And she knew what it wanted. It desired cock. And not
just any cock either.
But Presidential cock.
She began to think of the implications. She would be
one of the few reporters in America who had sampled a
Presidential penis. Mmmmm. For some odd reason she
found that an appetizing idea. She could feel her pussy
tubing at that very second.
Once Bill recognized the tell-tale signs of a woman in
need, he wasted no time. He pulled her blouse tails
out of the waist of her skirt and, reaching up under
her shirt and jacket, cupped her breasts, placing his
palms beneath them and rubbing the pads of his thumbs
along the underside. They felt firm and hot.
"Goodness," she gasped, surprised by the wave of
pleasure which rushed over her.
"Now, now. There's no need to worry. It's perfectly
natural."
"But Mister President. I've never done anything like
this before."
"Neither have I," he tied. Of course, Bill Clinton did
it all the time.
That was the reason he had entered politics. As a
youngster, he had noticed that Washington D.C. had some
of the most gorgeous women in the country. Since he was
a real cunthound, he naturally aspired to politics,
where quality pussy was in abundance.
Taking one hand from a tit, he reached down. He lifted
the hem of her skirt. He angled his hand towards the
vee of her thighs, which by now were slowly parting,
partly from fatigue, partly from her own lust. He made
a beeline for her crotch. His hand covered it.
"Ooooh Mister President."
*** Chapter 5 ***
He pushed aside the hem of her panties and stroked her
throbbing sex.
"You're moist," he said.
She was embarrassed by the juices flowing out of her.
In a soft whisper she replied, "Yes."
"Are you ready?"
"I ... I ... I ... 11 She couldn't answer. She was
much too flustered.
He extended his index finger. Without a second's
delay, he pushed it into her.
"Oooh, Bill!" she gasped, puckering her lips as his
fingers made progress into her sheath. It was the first
time since her marriage that another man had touched
her in such a blatantly sexual manner. Ironically, she
felt her body responding. In fact, she welcomed the
invasion into her womanly folds. To assist him, she
angled her pelvis towards him while at the same time
sliding her pussy downward onto his invading digit.
"That's the way, babe. That's the way."
"Bill, isn't this what is known as sexual harassment?"
The President cringed. He didn't want to hear a
question like that. As Governor he had already been
sued once for sexual harassment. He didn't want it to
happen again. He had to think fast. "Oh no. This
isn't sexual harassment."
While his finger was inside of her pussy she asked,
"Then what is sexual harassment?"
"It's when a common ordinary citizen makes an unwanted
move against a member of the opposite sex. We
politicians are guilty of sexual harassment." "But what
about Senator Packwood?"
The President snapped his finger. "A perfect example.
He's still in office, isn't he?"
"Hey! You're right. Politicians really are above the
law!"
"You see. That's why I'm the President. Now if you
don't mind, I'd like to have you spread your lovely
legs a bit more because I want to get into you much
deeper."
"Oh, of course." She was now so aroused, she was
willing to assist him in the assault on her beautiful
body. Each stroke of her pussy made her feel better.
Each tickle of her twat sent her further into orbit.
"Let's lie down," he suggested.
"Should we?"
"Of course we should." To demonstrate his need, he
pushed her over to the couch were she fell backwards.
Because he was so horny, he sank to his knees and
lifted the hem of her skirt all the way to her waist.
And to dispense with any encumbrances, he ripped the
panties from her body.
"Bill!" she shrieked.
"Keep those legs of yours spread wide. I'm coming
home."
And with those words, he zeroed in on her womanly
treasure. "It's muff diving time."
"Muff diving? What on earth are you talking about?!"
She learned the answer to that question in only a
matter of a nanosecond.
The leader of the Free World's tongue was soon moving
up and down the length of her slit. She practically had
a heart attack when she felt his flesh touch hers.
"Oh. Bill! You shouldn't do that!" Even her husband
didn't do that!
He stuck his tongue into her slot.
"Oh Bill!"
He licked her liquid essence.
"Oh Bill! Oh Bill! Oh Bill!"
He reached up and pulled her labia wide apart so he
could get his tongue more deeply into her.
"Oh Bill! Bill! Bill!"
Phyllis had never known such pleasures could take
place. Her body responded with liquid pleasure. She
was melting in Bill's embrace. She spread her legs a
little wider so that he could have greater access to
her choice meadow. She had never conducted an
interview like this before. And she had never expected
such an event to take place with a President of the
United States. She now knew why he was called the
Commander-in-Chief. With that tongue of his women would
follow him anywhere.
"Oh Bill! Oh Bill! Oh Bill!"
With each coo, sigh, and gasp, she arched her back a
little more and she forced her pubis against his face
with that much more determination. Now that she knew
the joys of cunnilingus, she wanted more.
And more.
And more!
In fact, she wouldn't mind spending the remainder of
her days supine and being licked out. She reached down
between her thighs. She placed her hands on either
side of her pubis. She pulled her labia apart. She
wanted him to have the fullest access possible to her
womanly charms. He fulfilled her silent request by
making long strokes with his tongue all the way from
her perineum to her clitoris. He laved the entire area
until it was thoroughly drenched with both her
secretions and those of his tongue.
"Oh Bill!"
It didn't take her long to realize that she had been
shortchanged in her marriage to Harry. Her husband had
never once offered to provide her with such bliss. He
was from the old school. Apparently he thought that
cunt-sucking was a taboo practice. She sighed
contentedly as she allowed Bill to delve. It might be
taboo, but it was also terrific.
"Ohhh Bill!"
She began to move her pelvis up and down against his
face in an attempt to smear her secretions all over his
tongue, chin, and nose. However, the more she smeared
upon him, the more he lapped up.
She came to the conclusion that he was every woman's
dream. He was an insatiable tongue machine. All men
should have a comparable oral technique. "Oh Bill!"
she gasped, nearly delirious with pleasure. The entire
lower half of her body had taken on a life of its own.
It was moving up and down of its own volition. She
tried to stop it, but apparently the synapses from her
brain had been severed. Her hips wouldn't cease their
lewd and lascivious movement.
"Oh Bill!" she gasped.
The President prodded with the tip of his tongue, the
tip of his nose, and the tip of his chin. He wanted
her to be ready for when he prodded her with the tip of
his cock. There was so much vaginal secretion flowing
out of her hole, that he felt as if he were rubbing his
face in sliced watermelon. As he had suspected, she
had one of the tastiest snatches he had ever sampled.
It was literally delicious. He wouldn't mind keeping
his face buried in her twat for eight or nine hours at
a time.
The longer he slurped, the harder his cock got. Soon,
it throbbed painfully.
It needed the attention of a pussy desperate
Just as quickly as he began, he stopped.
The cessation of the tongue job stunned Phyllis.
"Bill! Why did you stop?"
"It's time, honey."
"Time? Time for what?"
"Time for this!" And with those words he raise up on
his knees on the couch, deftly pulled down his zipper
and pulled forth his cock. The turgid thing throbbed
with almost audible intensity.
"Oh Bill!"
"How do you like it?"
She gasped. She now knew that she was going to be
reamed by the President of the United States. Suddenly
she was awash with guilt. She just couldn't break her
marriage vows. She was a devoted wife. She had
remained devoted during the entire course of her
marriage. "Bill! I can't do it."
"Don't you like my cock?" He held it in his hand so
that she could get a good look at it.
She did look at it. She saw the shiny crown and the
vertical slit from which the pee and the baby juice
spilled forth. And she saw the shaft with its network
of veins trailing down the sides. She lowered her gaze
and even looked at the rather large pair of balls in
his extremely wrinkly sac. "Of course I like it," she
replied while studying the overall appendage.
"Then what's wrong with it?"
"There's nothing wrong with it."
"Then why don't you want it inside of you?"
"Oh Bill!" How could she explain to him the importance
of her marriage vows?
How could he hope to understand the old-fashioned
principles by which she lived? She admonished herself.
She knew that old-fashioned girls didn't spread their
thighs for strangers and get their pussies licked.
"Come on, Phyllis. This cock is hungry for your nest.
Come on. Let it inside. It's begging to get into your
garage."
"No," she said with determination.
Bill wasn't used to this type of resistance. Apparently
her sexual hang ups were more serious than he had
thought. Usually a woman was like putty after having
had cunnilingus performed on her. A man could do
anything with them. After he had eaten out a woman at
ABC News, she was willing to participate in a three-
way. And after she got done with the three way she was
ready for an orgy. "Why won't you allow my cock inside
you?" he asked again. "Because I'm a married woman!"
she shouted.
Bill worried that his eardrums might have cracked from
the decibel range she had chosen to use to voice her
objection. Even the Secret Service agents standing
outside the door to the dressing room were somewhat
surprised by the loudness of Phyllis's voice.
"Is there something wrong in there?" asked one of the
stage technicians rushing over to see what the scream
was about.
"Oh no," replied John. "President Clinton and Phyllis
were simply having a little disagreement over the ...
er .. interview. Sometimes reporters find his demands
quite...er...exasperating."
The technician seemed to find that explanation
satisfactory. He turned around and went on his way.
Once the fellow had gone, John rolled his eyes at the
ceiling. He couldn't believe that the President of the
United States had almost been caught with his pants
down.
Meanwhile, back inside the dressing room, Bill said,
"Oh I see."
"You see what?" said Phyllis.
*** Chapter 6 ***
"It's perfectly all right for me to perform cunnilingus
on you, but it's not all right for me to fuck you.
That's very selfish of you, Phyllis."
She didn't like to be thought of as selfish. "No! No!
No! You've got it all wrong. It wasn't all right for
you to perform cunnilingus on me. I didn't even know
that what you were planning to do."
"Are you saying that I didn't do a good job?"
"No! No! No!"
"Then you're saying I did a good job?"
"Well, of course, you did a good job, otherwise I
wouldn't be in the position I'm presently in."
"Then why don't you let me fuck you?"
"Because I'm married and I've got a husband," she
stated again.
"I'm married and I've got a wife. That doesn't stop
me."
"My principles are different than yours."
"I guess they are. They're straight from the Middle
Ages.
She didn't like that analogy. "I happen to think that
they're old-fashioned."
"Yea, they are. Very old fashioned. Look, in the
Middle Ages the average life expectancy was only
twenty-two years of age. A person at the time was
expected to have only one lover. However, today a
person can expect to live well into his seventies.
That's a long time to live with one person, one lover.
Not many people can do it. The temptation is just too
great. Besides, with our longer life, spans we need
more lovers." He looked lovingly into her eyes and
said, "At least one more."
"Oh Bill! You're confusing me!"
"There's nothing confusing at all about the act of
love. Come on, just lie back and enjoy the ride."
"Bill!" she exclaimed. "Don't do it."
He didn't listen. Instead, he wedged his cock into her
opening. He smiled when he noted how moist and ready
she was. He could have fucked her with a fence post.
She tried automatically to bring her knees together in
an effort to close her portal. But Bill was already
between her knees, so her thighs merely clamped tightly
on each of his hips. She felt his cock resting on the
portals of her femininity. "Bill! I mean it. Don't."
He knew that if he proceeded too fast, he would only
cause her to react like a rape victim. He didn't want
that. He wanted her to thoroughly enjoy the
experience. "Just let me soak it for a minute."
She thought about that. "Soak?"
"You know, allow my pecker to rest in your juices for a
while. That's all.
Nothing more."
"Well..." She thought about it. Perhaps if she
relented and allowed him to soak his pecker in her
juices he would let her be. After all, what would be
the harm in a little soaking? "Well, all right. But
that's all you're allowed to do."
But leaned down and kissed her on the nose. He smiled.
"I won't do anything other than that, baby."
Being a gentleman, he allowed his cock to slither back
and forth in her slick womanly furrow. He didn't take
advantage of her. After all, he knew that if he rubbed
the blunt end of his shaft against her clit enough
times, she would come around. Every woman on the face
of the earth was constructed the same way. Just tap
their clit and their resistance vanished.
"Ungh!" Phyllis grunted the first time he brushed her
little nubbin of delight. She jerked her pelvis upward
against his cock, desperately seeking fulfillment.
Phyllis felt betrayed by this response from her body
but it was as reflexive as the kick she gave every time
a doctor hit her knee with the little rubber hammer
they use.
"Are you sure you don't want a little of this cock?"
asked Bill in a mocking tone.
"I'm sure," she said, less sure this time. She wished
that he wouldn't touch her clitoris. That was her
weakest spot. If he continued to stroke her in that
lovely manner she might not be able to counter his
carnal advances. She knew that she should not succumb.
Each touch of her clit felt better than the last. She
began to see the error of allowing him to soak. His
soaking technique was twenty times better than her
husband's fucking technique. She quickly came to the
conclusion that she would rather have Bill soaking than
her husband fucking.
"Oh my!" she crooned. She felt as if she were a ripe
peach being opened by a Ginzu knife. She gave up
attempting to keep her thighs together. She wanted to
spread them wide!
He continued to massage her nether region with his tool
of love. He could tell that she was having an
increasingly difficult time remaining still. Passion
was written all over her pretty face. Her mouth was
open and she was occasionally gasping. Her panting
caused her luscious tits to rise and fall in a most
alluring manner. And her little bowl of a tummy moved
in and out as if it were hungry for a special kind of
meal. Anyone schooled in the sexual arts could deduce
that she wanted cock in the worst way. In fact, she
needed it desperately. He wouldn't be surprised if she
reached down and grabbed his pecker in an attempt to
draw him into her.
"Are you absolutely positive you don't want some of my
cock?" he asked with a mischievous gleam in his eye.
"Yes!" she sighed in a barely audible tone of voice as
she closed her eyes and arched her back.
"Are you absolutely sure?" He tapped her clitoris
several times in rapid succession.
"Ungh! Yes." She grunted as she replied. Her
resistance was fading fast.
Being a savvy politician, Bill could tell when an
opponent was about to give in. He decided to give her
just a little so she could sample it. He put just the
tip of his organ into her vagina.
When she felt it enter her, her eyelids flew open.
"Bill! I said I didn't want it!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!" Although her voice was filled with resolve, her
body wasn't. She couldn't deny that her vagina was
hungry for his pecker. But she wouldn't give in. No
way. She wouldn't give in at all.
"How about just the first inch?" he asked, knowing that
her resistance was slipping as quickly as a political
promise.
"No! Not even that!" She looked down and saw how hard
he was, and how ready she was. She attempted to pull
her pelvis back and inch so that she wouldn't have to
feel his pecker on her nether regions, exciting her to
near compliance.
"Come on, don't be a fuddy-duddy," he admonished.
"I'm not being a fuddy-duddy. I'm being faithful to my
husband."
"You can still be faithful if you only accept one inch
into your slot. An inch doesn't equal a ruler."
The concept intrigued her. She had never thought of
sex in those terms before. "I can?"
"Sure you can. It says so in the latest etiquette book
published by Cosmopolitan magazine."
She looked at him quizzically. She was skeptical. Such
information would have traveled amongst the women
journalists very rapidly if it were true. The girls
were always trading cock stories. "Are you sure?" she
asked.
"Hey! Would I make something like that up?"
She looked into his eyes. He seemed so trusting.
"Well... I suppose not." Like so many women before her,
she had fallen for his easy charm. She relaxed her
thighs a bit, which naturally relaxed her cunt muscles
a bit.
With those words, he put another inch of his organ into
her.
"Bill!" Her eyes opened wide in surprise as she felt
him invade her precious chamber, felt the blunt end of
his thick cock spread the petal-like folds of her
womanhood and stretch her inner vagina. "How much are
you going to put in me?"
"How much do you want?"
"Now come on! This is not funny. You said just an
inch!" She wiggled her pelvis a little in an attempt to
free herself from his protruding member. Naturally,
wherever she moved, he moved with her. She would pull
back, and he would move forward. She would move to the
side, and he would move to the side. She would try to
move to her left, and he would move to his right. Then
she made the fatal mistake of attempting to move up.
Her eyes opened wide in surprise when she realized what
she had done. The cock was moving inward! "Ungh!" she
grunted. "Bill! You put more of it into me! Ungh!"
He looked down to their joined bodies. He admired the
way the entire crown of his cock was now buried within
her. He decided to play the naive role to the max.
"Why! So I did!" he said stupidly. "Shazam!"
She immediately knew he was playing ignorant. She
didn't like it. In fact, she didn't like it one bit.
The President of the United States might be a bumbling
dolt when it came to foreign affairs, but it had long
been rumored that he truly knew his way around a woman.
He certainly knew his way into a woman. He was
breezing down her slick highway.
"Pull it out, Bill!" she demanded through gritted
teeth. She began to push against his chest. She was
determined to terminate the assault and preserve as
much of her fading innocence as she possibly could.
However, he was just as determined to remain in place
atop her with his cock snugly inside. After all, he
was a man who liked to remain imbedded in a woman's
honeyed core. As far as he was concerned, there was no
reason to remain in a woman's presence unless one had
one's dick soaking in her hole. Women were meant to be
fucked; men were meant to do the fucking. Life wag as
simple as that. A person didn't need a Ph.D to figure
that out.
He decided to appeal to her sense of fair play. "Come
on and let me stay inside you for just a minute.
That's all I ask."
She bit her lower lip nervously. She was giving Bill
far more liberty than any man who had ever touched her.
Even her husband, Harry. Secretly, she wanted him to
remain in place. He felt so right nestled there. So
filling. So manly. So perfect. Besides, what would be
the harm if he kept his penis in place for a few
minutes? Harry wasn't around. There were no
technicians watching. She wouldn't tell. Bill had
already pushed several inches of himself into her
clinging warmth-surely a minute or two of soaking
therein wouldn't hurt.
She came to the conclusion that she really wasn't
breaking her marriage vows. After all, he hadn't put
himself all the way into her. There was still a
considerable portion of his cock which remained outside
of her nest. Moreover, he hadn't started to thrust as
of yet. Fucking wasn't fucking until one was
thrusting. And she hadn't even spread herself very
wide. She remained as prim as possible considering the
circumstances. Thus, she rationalized that she was
still a good girl.
"All right, she said with an exhalation of breath. "You
can keep it in me.
But just for a minute. No more than that."
He grinned. He knew he had won the first major
victory. "Okay. It's a deal.
She relaxed a bit. As she did she noticed that her
pussy began to milk the head of his pecker. Her
traitorous twat was nursing on his cocktip like a
newborn calf on a teat. She hadn't intended for that
to happen. She tried to stop it, but her cunt had a
will of its own. It wouldn't stop its action. It
couldn't stop. It continued to milk that organ as if
pussies were designed for such exercise.
She became nervous. Even her husband, Harry, didn't
elicit this kind of superior treatment from her vagina.
When Bill felt those wonderful muscles of her cunt
begin to milk his cock he smiled. He knew that no
woman was immune to the sensations which a cock was
capable of producing. Moreover, since she had relaxed,
her vagina had lubed very nicely. She was now beginning
to gape open. Her labia had blossomed and her thighs
were spreading on their own. She was becoming a very
tempting sight.
To say the least, it took a considerable amount of
willpower for him to keep from shoving his entire
length into her. He had an overwhelming urge to slam
his meat home so that his balls would bounce on her ass
cheeks, but being the cockmaster that he was, he
resisted the temptation.
Oddly enough, Phyllis wished that he would put some
more of his manly rod into her waiting dell. She
doubted if she would seriously mind. Deciding that he
should take a chance, he did.
"Ahhh!" He sighed as he wedged another inch into her.
"Bill!" she exclaimed indignantly. "You promised that
you weren't going to give me any more!"
"I'm sorry, doll. That just slipped," He pulled the
last inch outward a bit, and then pushed it back in,
imitating the action of fucking.
Her eyes opened wide. "Bill!" she gasped, worried that
she had crossed a threshold into the realm of adultery.
"Yes, Phyllis?"
"I want you to stop that this instant."
"Stop what, Phyllis?"
*** Chapter 7 ***
"I want you to stop moving your penis like that. Back
and forth. Like you're making love to me. I don't
want that to happen."
He wiggled his cock back and forth a few more times,
several inches at a time. "You mean, this?" he asked,
innocently.
"Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!" she grunted every time the rigid
length moved upon her velvet walls. "Yes! Ungh! Ungh!
Ungh! I don't want you doing that."
"Are you absolutely certain?" he asked, attempting to
keep from smiling as he maneuvered within her.
"Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!" she gasped. "Please don't do
that! Please don't.
It's very naughty!"
"I can't seem to help myself," he confessed, keeping up
the movement. He wasn't lying either. Her pussy was
just too good to resist. Even a virgin couldn't have
remained still.
"Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! You're going to have to get
control of yourself."
"Yes, ma'am."
Actually, it was Phyllis who had to get control. She
was having considerable difficulty remaining still
under the constant assault. She wanted to move her
hips. She wanted to wiggle them around so that she
could fell more of that magnificent male organ. She
yearned to get more of that manly rod into her womanly
core. She wanted to really let herself go. She wanted
to fly!
He knew the effect he was having on her. "Are you sure
you wouldn't want a few more inches?" he asked.
"Yes, Bill."
"Here, let's test." He gave her at least three inches
at one time.
Her eyes opened wide as she received the last measure
of his lengthy shaft.
"Bill!" she exclaimed. "That was no accident!"
"No it wasn't," he said with a little chuckle. "Would
you like for me to pull it out?"
Now that she was thoroughly lanced, she decided that it
would be foolish to ask him to pull out. After all,
her vagina seemed to enjoy the rod. "No. You can
leave it in me." She sort-of wiggled her pelvis back
and forth, allowing him to get his penis comfortably
situated in her love cradle. He only allowed it to
stay in place for a few minutes. He wanted her to be
fully at ease with his cock. When he saw that she had,
he pushed the remainder of his organ into her.
"Bill!" she exclaimed. "You did it again!"
"That's the last time I'll slip up. Honest."
"It better be." She looked down to where their bodies
were joined. The sight stirred her. Nevertheless, she
didn't want to tell him that. "Of course it will be
the last time you do it. There isn't any more left for
you to put in me."
Phyllis wondered if she were keeping her marriage vows.
She knew that she had gone far beyond the innocent
practice of "soaking". She nervously nibbled her lower
lip. She began to think about the philosophical
ramifications. Was she still a good girl? Just because
she had a penis in her pussy didn't mean she had gone
bad. She took comfort in the fact he wasn't thrusting.
That meant that she wasn't actually fucking. And if
she wasn't fucking, then she wasn't committing
adultery. And is she wasn't committing adultery, she
wasn't breaking any commandment. And she had
repeatedly voice her protestations to Bill. That made
a difference, too. She breathed a sigh of relief. She
was remaining faithful to Harry.
Ironically, at the very moment, Bill began to move his
cock back and forth within her. He was careful not to
give her too much at one time. He didn't want her to
panic.
He decided to have a little fun with her. "Hey! Look!
It moves!" he exclaimed.
"Of course it moves, silly. That's the way it works."
"But I didn't think you would be so slick."
"I'm not usually... ungh ... this slick."
"Not even with your husband?"
"No ... ungh!"
Bill continued to slide his organ within her. Back and
forth. Back and forth. Every stroke brought him more
pleasure than the previous one. It took considerable
effort to refrain from going whole hog. He would love
to fuck her with his usual intensity. He would love to
make her teeth chatter from the force of his thrusts.
But he kept his cool. He moved only slightly. "Hmm.
Does your husband have a big cock?" he asked.
"Bill! That's no question to ask a lady."
"I was just curious. After all, I am the President of
the United States." He knew that here husband wasn't
well-endowed. Her vaginal would be stretched much more
widely if he were. He gave a silent prayer to the Lord
above for giving some guys small cocks. It meant that
there would always be an ample supply of tight pussy
out there.
He noticed that he was becoming increasingly aroused.
He decided to increase the length of his strokes.
Instead of giving her two or three at a time, he now
gave her six or seven.
"Ooooh!" she cooed. "That feels nice!"
"Doesn't it, though?"
"Ooooh! Bill! That does feel so very nice!"
"I take it your husband doesn't have a weapon my size?"
"I'm still not going to answer a question
like...oooh!...Bill! You really reach way back in
there!"
He laughed. "Never mind. You don't have to answer the
question."
"What question?" she asked as she was thoroughly
impaled once more by another one of his masterful
strokes.
"So how do you like my Presidential wand?"
"I like it! I like it!"
"I thought you would." Actually, he had no doubt that
he would eventually win her over. Over the years, he
won every broad over. It had to do with the fact that
he had power. Lots of power. Although he wasn't the
best looking President in the history of the United
States, he was still the President. That counted for
quite a lot with women. Cunt loved clout. The more
power a man wielded, the more likely that man would get
laid. Moreover, beautiful pussy loved power the most.
Gorgeous women gravitated to men with clout like bees
to honeysuckle.
Bill now moved his cock back and forth in her folds as
if he were a man possessed. He was now going all the
way, giving her everything he had.
Deeper!
Plunging!
Probing!
Drilling!
She was getting increasingly aroused with every thrust
of his cock. She was twirling her pelvis upon his
lance of flesh. Like a woman possessed, she moved her
hips around and around. Over and over and over.
Phyllis loved the sensations which were washing over
her. Although Bill's cock wasn't that much bigger than
her husband's, the extra couple of inches made all the
difference in the world. She now knew that size made a
difference.
And how!
She began to wonder what one of those twelve-inch
wonders might feel like.
Such an organ would really probe her vitals and make
her feel like a blessed woman. Phyllis had, on one
occasion, the opportunity to interview a male porn star
who was on trial for obscenity. In preparing for the
interview she had reviewed a selection of his video
tapes and she was awe- struck by the size of his organ
of procreation. She had sat in the studio with her
female news-producer watching the tapes, both silently
mesmerized by the sight. Her twat was slobbering like
a hound dog as if readying itself for the organ her
eyes were appraising. She had meet the porn star on
the court house steps and asked him a few investigatory
questions. To her surprise, he was a perfect gentleman
and he didn't flirt or hit up on her. She had expected
any man with such a stupendous organ to be a fucking
animal! Phyllis had resisted the urge to ask him to a
out-of- the-way coffee shop for a more 'in-depth'
interview. That evening, when Harry was making love to
her, she had closed her eyes and pretended it was the
big-dicked wonder she had spoken to that afternoon.
Afterwards, she had felt dirty, like she had cheated on
Harry in her mind. She considered confessing her crime
to Harry but never got around to it.
"I can't understand why this is so good!" she said
breathlessly as thrust after thrust pounded into her
shapely body. "It's just sex." "That's the reason,
honey. This is so good because it's pure sex. We have
no social attachments. Without the marriage bond sex
becomes an aphrodisiac in and of itself. The
constraints are lifted. The spirit is liberated."
The mention of marriage made Phyllis wince. Until that
moment she had not thought of Harry. Now the marriage
vows she had made with him came rushing back to her
consciousness. In her minds eye Harry was standing
beside them, red faced and clenching his fists. Still,
she was surprised that she continued as she was that
is, flat on her back with her thighs spread wide and a
powerful man plunging away at her passion pit.
"Shouldn't I feel some sense of shame?" she asked while
taking some especially powerful thrusts into her belly.
"Not when it comes to beautiful sex."
*** Chapter 8 ***
"But I'm a married woman. I'm committing adultery.
Surely I should feel some guilt."
"Not necessarily," Bill said as he slipped and
slithered his large shaft within her. He leisurely
eased his organ back and forth as he explained his
philosophy of life to her. He loved the lusty look in
her eyes as he drilled away. He loved watching the way
her pupils dilated during especially deep plunges. And
he loved seeing how her nostrils flared when he struck
an especially erogenous zone on her cuntal walls. He
also liked to watch the way her breasts filled with
passion and the way they jiggled on her ribs while he
wiggled between her thighs.
He had noticed that she had great breasts before. Now
that they were in a heightened state of arousal, they
were spectacular in the extreme. Even though she was
wiggling all over the place, her breasts jiggled like
overturned bowls of gelatin. He watched them bounce up
and down and from side to side. He made a game of
sticking out his tongue to flick a swaying nipple. He
fixed his lips to the distended nipples so he could
feast as well.
As he pumped into her he began to fantasize what she
would look like pregnant. This was a frequent fantasy
of his. Unfortunately, his fantasy had gotten him into
trouble on numerous occasions. He knew of at least five
little Bills he had made along the way. There was one
in North Dakota, two in Alabama, one in Utah, and one
in Florida. The children were the result of his
refusal to wear a condom, and his refusal to withdraw
during ejaculation. He was one of those men who liked
to plant his seeds. These children had resulted in
divorce for three of the mothers but the other two were
being raised by men who thought they were their own.
This gave Bill some sort of perverse pleasure, to think
that someone else was raising and supporting his
offspring without knowing that the kids belonged to
some other bastard. He had not only fucked the
mothers, he had fucked the fathers!
While fucking into her he said, "I'd like to knock you
up."
She giggled. "I don't think that would be a very wise
thing to do, Mister President. It would be the scandal
of the century."
"Yea, but it would keep my name in the papers. That's
the secret of politics. That's what we politicians
live for. A scandal like that would make me the talk
of the nation. I'd be a bigger media star than O.J.
Simpson during his preliminary hearing.
"I don't think my husband would go for the idea of me
getting pregnant by another man."
"Ask him when you get home. Maybe he will. After all,
I am the President of the United States."
"I seriously doubt that he'll go for it," she giggled,
giving him a powerful squeeze with her cunt walls.
Bill smiled. No doubt the husband wouldn't. But some
guys would. Over the years he had found that every man
had a kinky side. Some men liked to watch their wives
have sex with other men. They got as much of a thrill
out of it as doing the deed themselves. Bill was only
too happy to oblige such a request.
The President continued to fuck as if his life depended
on it. And he continued to move his hips as if he had
been hired to impregnate her. But then, the President
always made love as if he were attempting to impregnate
a woman. He found that sex was much more satisfying
that way.
He raised and lifted his hips between her columnar
thighs. Pumping!
Pumping! Pumping! He was in her cradle of love.
Pumping! Pumping! Pumping!
Slipping and sliding right down her chute of love.
Pumping! Pumping! Pumping! Drilling his mid-section
in to her with all the determination of a rutting bull.
His loins were slapping loudly against her up-turned
ass cheeks with each thrust. It sounded like someone
applauding.
"Oh Bill! Oh Bill! Oh Bill!" Phyllis was on the verge
of an orgasm. She kicked her legs back as far as they
would go. She was now essentially folded in half and
spread as wide as possible. She couldn't offer more of
herself to him if she tried.
"Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!" Each thrust into her lovely
chamber brought forth another little breath. She was
gasping with utter pleasure. "Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!" she
grunted and groaned as she received his manly gift.
By this time she could no longer deny her physical
needs. She couldn't have refused Bill the full use of
her beautiful body if she tried.
"I need it! I need it!" she cried out.
"I know you do. And I intend to give it to you."
"Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Give it to me! Give it to me!"
"What do you want, baby?"
"I need your cock!"
"How much do you need?"
"All of it!"
"In what manner?"
"Deep! Oh, so very deep!"
At that moment, he paused in his thrusting. She opened
her eyes and looked at him. "Oh! don't do that! Give
it to me! I want it."
"Tell me how much you need it."
"I need it worse than anything." He gave a little shove
and then stopped.
"Ooooh! I need it! Don't do this to me!"
"I want you to ask for it nicely."
If she wasn't so desperate for his shaft she would have
been quite angry.
"Please give me your cock. Please! Please! Please!"
Bill didn't restart his fucking motion. He remained in
place, not moving an inch. "Say please Mister
President."
She detested what he was doing. "Affggghhh!" she
shrieked through gritted teeth. "Oh please Mister
President! Give me your cock."
He smiled wickedly as he looked at her. He loved
looking at women who were desperate for sex. There
wasn't a more beautiful sight in the world. "All
right! Here it comes!" And with those words, he shoved
it into her to the hilt.
"Arrrggghhh!" she gasped with pleasure as she received
it deeply into her womb. She had to confess that she
had never wanted anything more than she wanted that
penis at that moment. And true to form, she had
received it fully. Soon, her entire vagina was stuffed
with its entire length. "Ahhhhh! Ahhhhhh!
Ahhhhhh!"
Each thrust now gave her the release she had long
sought. "Oooh! Mister President. You are truly
wonderful with that weapon of yours."
He chuckled. "Yea, that's what all the women say."
She giggled at his lewd comment. She didn't mind the
fact that his pecker had been inside other women. That
made the idea of making love with him all the more
appealing. It meant that she could one day say 'Bill
Clinton slept here'.
The telltale signs of orgasm were approaching. She
could feel the coiling motion in her lower belly. That
sensation become overwhelmingly beautiful as it
traveled throughout her body to her erogenous zones.
Her nipples, her cheeks, her earlobes, and even her
eyelashes were sensitized in a way she hadn't felt them
before.
She came several times in rapid succession each one
better than the last.
Each one depleting her energy. Each one lifting her to
new heights of ecstasy.
She wasn't the only one experiencing an orgasmic high.
Bill too was approaching release. "Here it comes,
baby."
"Oooh! Give it to me! Give it to me!"
He did! Every last droplet of his wondrous ejaculate.
She sighed blissfully as she received every last sperm
cell from his spermary. She could feel his heavy balls
writhing on her sensitive little ass bud like two furry
creatures playing.
She lay contented for a moment, relaxing beneath his
body. And then she became worried as a startling
realization crossed her mind, as if she had suddenly
became aware again. "Bill! Why didn't you pull out?!
I didn't want your semen inside me."
"I'm sorry, baby. You felt so good, I couldn't hold
it."
Although she was angry, she saw the look of remorse on
his face. "All right, but don't let it happen again."
She arched her back and his penis slipped out of her.
The tip of it traced a line in spooge down her ass and
across the inside of one thigh. She quickly brought
her chin to her chest to get a look at the tool that
had caused her such pleasure. Although it was rapidly
becoming flaccid it still was longer that Harry's. It
glistened wetly and swayed back and forth in front of
his hairy thighs. A rivulet of semen trickled out of
her love pouch.
"I won't, doll." He reached down and stuck a finger
into her hole. He wiggled it around a few times. It
was an old habit of his. He liked to feel the sperm he
had left behind. To his way of thinking, it was sort
of a conquest.
Phyllis found the massaging finger to be a bit too
intimate for her tastes. After all, her husband had
never done anything like that when he finished
depositing his ejaculate inside her. Instead, he
simply withdrew and let her be after a round of sex.
Then he would roll to the side, go to sleep, and snore
for the remainder of the evening. Needless to say, sex
with Harry wasn't her idea of romance.
But the President seemed to be just as frisky after
spilling his ejaculate as before. He continued to play
with her body as if he were engaged in foreplay. He was
just as fascinated with her pussy after the event, as
he was before.
"Bill! Get your finger out of there!"
"Why?"
"Because it's not nice to play in my...my...sex after
its been filled with...you know what!"
"Sure it is."
"No its not!" She practically shrieked when he began
tickling her twat.
"You didn't mind my penis in there."
"That was different."
"How so?"
"A penis belongs in there."
"So does a finger."
"Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Bill!" she shrieked again, twisting
her hips to escape
his nasty digits.
"Just trying to keep you ready."
"Ungh! All right, smarty pants, let's see how you like
it." She reached down and grabbed his cock. She noted
that it wasn't completely soft. In fact, it was still
quite hard. She noted the veins bulging from the
sides. She also felt the stickiness covering the
entire length. she knew that she was feeling a mixture
of sperm and vaginal secretion. She blushed. She had
never handled a penis immediately after it had engaged
in sex before. For some odd reason, she found the
gentle touching to be especially erotic and intimate.
"I'm ready again, baby," said Bill.
She gazed into his eyes. She could see the lust
written therein. And while she noted his dilating
pupils, she also noted his hardening cock. She could
feel it turning back into a shaft of steel in her very
hands. She gasped with pleasure. Her breath caught in
her throat. Her breasts throbbed. Her nipples stood
at attention. Her pussy palpitated. She yearned for
his cock.
She didn't have to yearn for long. Within only a
matter of a few minutes he was sliding his John Henry
back into her gaping gash.
"Ahhhh!" she sighed contentedly as if greeting an old
friend. She went so far as to wiggle her hips
salaciously as -he slid in.
"Mmmmmm! It feels like it's coming home."
"Yes!" she breathed into his face.
He noted that she had the sweetest breath he had ever
smelled. Like her pussy, it smelled of fragrant
lilacs.
Once he was buried to the hilt within her, she
commented, "I didn't know a man could do it so soon
afterwards."
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me.
"Mmmmmm! I guess so! Mmmmmm!"
He moved rhythmically within her clinging cuntal walls.
He loved her snugness. It was like fucking the inside
of a garden hose. Ah Yes! But her garden hose had
just enough give in it to allow cocks to pass, and it
was coated with just enough vaginal secretion to allow
easy pumping. He slipped and slid in-her with ease.
She clung to him. He still had on his dress shirt and
tie and she took the end of his neck tie in her teeth.
If she hadn't had on his shirt his back would have been
a criss-crossed mass of welts from her porcelain nails.
She pressed her body to his as if she were a barnacle
and he were the hull of a ship. He noted the way her
large breasts flattened against his chest. He noted
the way her flat little tummy moved against his. She
noted the hardness of his abdominal muscles against
hers. He noted the way his pubic hairs touched hers
every time he gave her an especially deep thrust.
She spread herself wide. She was no longer reluctant
to offer herself fully. She now wanted him fucking
her. To allow him greater access, she folded her legs
at the knees and wrapped her calves around his muscular
buttocks. She then used her calves to hold him to her
love cradle and to apply some rhythmic pressure to
regulate his thrusts to her liking.
She began to buck and writhe against him. She had
crossed a barrier. She was now a cheating wife. She
had indiscriminately tom up her marriages vows. And to
make matters worse-she didn't care. She felt no guilt
whatsoever. Every time that cock of Bill's slid in she
welcomed it with a sigh of satisfaction.
"Come on and fuck me, Mister President!"
"I am! I am!"
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" She couldn't encourage him enough.
She wanted him so deep in her cunt that she would walk
bowlegged for weeks. She wanted to be so blasted full
of sperm that it would trickle out of her nose.
"You've got a cunt like a snapping turtle," Bill said
as he pumped.
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Yes it is."
"Then ... oooh! Thank you."
"Has your husband ever complimented you on your pussy?"
"He takes it for granted."
Bill looked at her with compassion while he rocked his
pelvis against hers, delving deeply into her womanly
fissure. "I would never take your pussy for granted.
Never."
"You wouldn't?"
"I sure wouldn't. Pussy is the best thing in the
world, and a tight pussy like yours is even more
special. If you were my lover, I would take special
care of your cunt." He looked deep into her wide eyes.
Now, every time he turned on the network news to see
what the polls were saying about him and he saw Phyllis
he would remember her this way. Not the prim,
professional journalist but the cock-starved, moaning,
writhing, wanton mass of well-fucked womanhood that now
lay beneath him on the tiny couch in the dressing room.
"Ungh!" she grunted as she got a cunt full of cock at
that very moment. At that moment there was a hesitant
knocking at the dressing room door. "I told you I
didn't want to be disturbed," Bill called out while
continuing to fuck away.
"It's not for you, it's for the lady," said John, the
Secret Service agent.
"She's giving an interview, damn it!"
"Who is it?" asked Phyllis dreamily, not knowing who
might be asking for her.
"Your husband," replied the Secret Service agent.
*** Chapter 9 ***
Phyllis' cunt clamped down so tightly on the
president's cock that he wince in pain.
"Oh goodness!" she gasped. Her face drained of color
and she became quite pale. However, her pelvis did not
stop moving on his pecker. It continued to move on its
own.
"Something wrong?" asked Bill.
"That's my hubby!" Phyllis said in a low voice which
couldn't be heard more than a few inches away.
She blinked her eyes. She couldn't believe Bill could
be so dense. "So!
Don't you realize that if he catches me like this,
he'll divorce me!"
"Oh pshaw!"
"It's true!"
"Let's test the hypothesis."
"No, please!" she gasped, stunned to a near shock. "I
beg of you!"
"Send him in!" called Bill to John.
"Oh no!" Phyllis attempted to pull away from the
President but he held her hips in place, keeping her
firmly impaled on his magnificent organ.
Harry opened the door and entered the dressing room.
"Happy anniversary, darling," he said. "I was just in
the neighborhood and thought that I might..." His voice
trailed off when he saw his wife naked as a jaybird and
spread-eagled on the couch. He saw the way her lovely
white thighs were wrapped around the hips of a middle-
aged man.
"My God!" Harry exclaimed.
"Pleased to meet your acquaintance," said Bill
extending his hand but not pausing in his thrusting.
Poor Phyllis was about to faint from sheer
embarrassment. She had never been so red-faced in her
life. She tried to wiggle out from under Bill but her
feeble efforts only succeeded in giving her the
appearance of being in a fuck-frenzy.
Harry lifted his hand and pointed at Bill.
"You're...you're...you're..."
"Fucking your wife?" asked Bill, completing the
sentence for him.
"Well, yes, that too, but you're...you're...you're the
President of the United States."
"That I am."
"What are you doing here?"
"I've got my dick buried deep inside your wife," Bill
said matter-of-factly.
"Why?" was all that Harry was able to utter.
"Well, let's see...First of all because she's a
beautiful woman. Secondly, I developed a hard-on for
her. And third, we found this place as a good place to
fuck, so we chose it." Bill stated the reasons as if
they were as plain as day and could have been discerned
by a child.
Throughout the entire conversation, Phyllis had
listened with her mouth agape. She couldn't believe
the President of the United States could be so callous
while discussing her. And to make matters worse, he
hadn't stopped pumping.
"Let me up! Let me up!" she exclaimed in an incensed
tone of voice.
But Bill wouldn't have any of that. He still had a
hard-on, and he never stopped fucking until he
deposited his semen. It was a long-held policy of his.
In the meantime, Harry slapped his palm against his
forehead. The sound was so loud it reverberated around
the dressing room. "I can't believe it. I really
can't believe it. All of these years I thought you had
been faithful, Phyllis."
The statement went right to her heart. With tears in
her eyes, Phyllis called out to him. "I have been
faithful to you, Harry."
"Oh, ha! That's a likely story!"
"You must believe me, darling. I truly have."
"Then what do you call that?" He pointed directly at
Bill's bobbing hips.
"I've only slipped this once! That's all!" she sobbed.
"Oh, ha!" Harry laughed. "You've probably fucked ever
well-hung stud in
the Clinton Cabinet."
"No I haven't! I don't even find any of them
attractive."
"You only find the President attractive, huh?"
"No. I don't even find him attractive."
Now Harry was really stunned. "Oh that's just great!
You don't find the President of the United States
attractive, and yet you're fucking him!"
"Please Harry," she sobbed as she got reamed.
Ironically, the statement didn't bother Bill in the
slightest. He could care less if the women he fucked
were attracted to him. He was only interested in
fucking them. That's all. He didn't want love, he
didn't want devotion, he didn't want money. He only
wanted pussy. That's all. Plain and simple. He wasn't
a complex man with complex tastes. He was quite easy
to please. Besides, being a committed cunthound, meant
that he was dedicated to variety, not monotonous
sameness. Marriage was a bore because it prohibited
playing around.
Harry was still in a dither over Phyllis's previous
admission. He continued to shake his head in utter
bewilderment. "My wife fucks men she's not attracted
to, yet she doesn't put any enthusiasm into fucking me.
Can anyone figure women out!"
Phyllis could sense her marriage coming apart before
her very eyes. A breakup was the last thing she
wanted.
In the meantime, Harry continued his diatribe. "You
probably pick black gang members off the street and
have them fuck you for kicks. You probably drive
around town during your lunch hour searching for cock.
You probably search alleys for winos to service you."
His words cut right through to her heart. "That's not
true!" Phyllis practically screamed. "I would never do
such a thing."
"Oh, I see, you just limit your fucking to politicians
you meet at the studio."
"You're being cruel."
"And I suppose you're not!" Harry screamed while
pointing to her spread legs and the cock which was
buried deep in her tunnel of love.
To occupy the time, Bill began to fuck his cock back
into Phyllis with gusto. He had slowed because he was
crying, but now he put more vigor into his thrusts.
Her hole was still gaping wide and thoroughly
lubricated with their spend. Because she was so well
greased, there was nothing she could do to stop the
continual invasion of her womanly dell with his mighty
prong.
She was angry that the President hadn't ceased his
assault. She ground her hips around in a circle in an
attempt to dislodge him. However, the effort didn't
work. He remained wedged within. "Could you please
stop for just a moment, Mister President!" she asked,
angrily.
"I can't. I'm horny."
"Bill! Stop!"
Her husband winced. "You're on a first name basis with
the fellow, Phyllis!
Oh cheese! It's worse than I thought. What do you do
at night! Have dreams of Bill? Pretend that it's Bill
who fucks you? I suppose you've named your vibrator
'Billie'. And I suppose that when you douche after we
make love you wish it was Bill's spend you were washing
out of your cheating cunt. Ha! What a wife! What a
wife!"
Once more Phyllis tried to dislodge the penis from her
pussy. Once more she failed. "Please Harry I This
isn't what it looks like."
"It's not?!"
"No, it's not!" She grunted as she wiggled her hips.
Her body was fucking like it was on auto- pilot, as if
all the pleasurable sensory input was overriding her
intellect, her freedom of choice, he will power.
Something primitive, something mid-brain had taken over
and she was merely a spectator to what her body was
doing.
"Well, I'll be dammed. It sure looks like fucking to
me. Doesn't it to you, Mister President?"
To make matters worse, Bill didn't attempt to side with
Phyllis. Instead he replied, "It sure is fucking.
Plain and simple, that's what I've always called it."
Harry threw his hands up in the air. "See!" he
shouted. "I know fucking when I see it. That's what
you're doing Phyllis. You're fucking. F-U-C-K-I,N,G!
That's the word for it. Except you're not doing it
with your husband, you're doing it with another man.
That wasn't in the marriage contract, Phyllis. We
didn't state our vows saying we would share our
reproductive organs with whoever comes along.
"Oh Harry! He seduced me!" she sobbed.
Bill began to fuck her more vigorously. He was
literally driving his manly weapon into the furthest
reaches of her womanly core. He felt as if he were
operating a jackhammer. Every once in a while the
blunt tip of his cock touched her cervix. Other men
might have worried about being shot or hit over the
head, but Bill was the President of the United States.
He had the Secret Service on his side. They were sworn
to protect him. He knew he was safe from harm. And
since Harry had been searched for arms before entering
the dressing room, Bill fucked the beautiful brunette
without guilt or worry of assault.
Phyllis was now desperate. She wiggled frantically.
She wished that Bill would pull out of her so she could
speak with her husband in private. It was the only way
to repair the damage done to her marriage.
But the President wouldn't relent. His body kept her
pinned to the couch. He kept right on pummeling away.
He had wanted her body more than he had wanted
anything. Now that it was in a prone position beneath
him and he had her right where he wanted her-spread-
eagled and panting -there wasn't anyway on earth that
going to stop him. He had her pinned like a trophy
butterfly, pinned to a display board. He would see
this round of sexual intercourse through to the very
end. Moreover, all of her wiggling served to make the
fucking that much more pleasurable.
Phyllis knew she had to rectify matters with her
husband if she wanted Harry to remain wedded to her.
While being passionately pummeled she said, "Oh Harry,
I don't want you to be angry."
"Not angry!" Harry exclaimed. "Not angry!" he
reiterated, once more throwing up his hands in utter
frustration. "How the hell am I not supposed to be
angry?"
"Please Harry!"
"Don't 'Please Harry' me! Wouldn't you be angry if I
were slipping it to my secretary? Wouldn't you be
pissed if you came down to my office and saw me
pronging a female during a lunch break?"
"Yes," Phyllis replied softly. Her eyes were laden
with tears. She didn't like the tone of her husband's
voice one bit. This was their first serious argument
of their marriage.
"So why shouldn't I be angry with what you're doing?"
She did not have a adequate answer for that question.
She simply said, "I love you, honey."
"Ha! You have a strange way of showing it!"
Finally Bill spoke. "It's not what you think" said the
President as he continued to slide his organ within her
snug little cavern. "I was horny, she was horny, and
we commenced to fuck. That's it."
"I was not horny!" exclaimed Phyllis.
Harry watched the way his wife's hips moved. They
seemed to twirl upon the cock embedded within her core.
"Bullshit Phyllis!"
"I'm not horny, Harry!" she repeated, finding it nearly
impossible to stop the involuntary spasms in her lower
body.
"You lie! You never moved like that for me!" And with
those words Harry turned and slammed the door and
walked away.
"Oh dear!" Phyllis began to wail, "My marriage is
ruined. Let me up, please. I have to talk to him
now!"
"No its not," replied Bill as he fucked with gusto into
her clinging sheathe.
She sniffled. "What do you mean?"
"A woman who is as beautiful as you isn't going to be
dumped by a fellow who looks like that."
She was confused by his optimism. "And just what is
that supposed to mean?"
"It means that he isn't likely to find another good
looking dish like you.
Once he realizes that, he'll be back and beg to be
forgiven. He'll come to understand that a roll in the
hay isn't worth a divorce. Correct me if I'm wrong,
but you are the bread-winner in your relationship?"
Phyllis blinked her eyes. The President seemed to
understand the situation perfectly. She knew that she
was very attractive. And she knew that her hubby
wasn't very handsome. Indeed, the more she thought
about it, the more she realized Harry would be back.
He would definitely be back. Hell! He'd probably come
running back on his hands and knees begging for
forgiveness. After all, she was the best thing that
ever happened to him. She even made more money.
She suddenly felt better. She relaxed a bit. When she
did, she noticed that she began to more thoroughly
enjoy the reaming she was receiving.
"Oh dear!" she gasped after one especially joyous
plunge filled her liquid depths with his stalk of manly
flesh. "That does feel good," she cooed as she was
fucked.
"You know it, baby. You know it."
"Hmmmm!" she sighed as she spread her luscious thighs
much wider than she had thus far. "I'm glad you didn't
pull out."
"You see, your President knows best."
She giggled as she opened herself impossibly wide.
"And how! And to think, when I'm assigned to the White
House we can do this all the time!"
"The White House?" he asked.
"Yes. You're going to get me an assignment there,
remember?"
"Oh, sure," he grinned at the lie. He had never
intended on getting her any assignment near the White
House. Fuck a woman too often and she starts thinking
she owns you, like a wife. He had used the 'assignment
to the White House' lie several times, always with good
results.
Bill noticed the tremendous change in her attitude.
She was now much more of an active participant in the
fucking. Instead of attempting to wiggle out from
beneath him, she was now wiggling salaciously to
receive more of his assault. He loved it when a woman
made circular motions with her pelvis. It nearly drove
him wild. It was also an indication that she had
crossed the threshold to hedonism. Another convert had
been made. He was so proud of himself. With that
thought in mind, he felt the tightening in his scrotum.
He could sense the semen rising from his balls. It was
chugging along, getting ready to rocket forth.
"Oh! Here it comes, baby! Here it comes."
*** Chapter 10 ***
"Give it to me, "she said. "Oh fuck me deep! Fuck me
hard! Fuck me good! Make me a baby!" she blurted.
"I intend to do just that." His back arched and bowed,
while her back arched and bowed. His cock slid in,
while her pussy received. He kept his legs locked
together, while she kept hers very wide apart.
And soon thereafter, she received a cunt full of semen.
"Ahh!" she sighed blissfully as her womb was bathed
with his jettisoned load.
He continued to move his hips until every last droplet
was ejaculated deep into her receptive sheath. He
smiled when the last sperm cell swam out of the tip of
his cock and into her hungry hole. He had done it
again! He had laid another reporter. Hot damn! It
sure was nice being President of the United States.
Phyllis lay exhausted. Her legs were spread as wide as
they had ever been in her life. Literally gobs of semen
trickled down the crack of her ass from her well-used
womanly dell.
Bill looked at the luscious sight and smiled. He had
never seen a more gorgeous brunette. She presented a
presented a picture which men would die for.
While she recuperated from the fuck of her life, Bill
got up, from the bed, walked over to the door,
carefully opened it, and whispered out to Frank, one of
the Secret Service Agents.
"Yes sir!" asked Frank, always alert for any request
made by the President.
"How would you like to knock off a piece?"
Frank smiled. Unlike John, he liked working for Bill
Clinton. He liked getting the spoils.
Frank came charging into the dressing room. Because
Phyllis had been so thoroughly fucked she was still in
a semi-conscious frame of mind.
Frank saw what awaited him. He had long hungered for a
sampling of the brunette anchor. She was a sailor's wet
dream. In the position she was in, he could see the
voluptuous body which he had long hungered for. He
smacked his lips. He immediately began undressing.
"I want you to finish her up for me," said Bill in a
barely audible whisper. "You wouldn't mind doing that,
would you?"
"Are you shitting me! I'd be glad to finish her up,
Mister President."
Bill slapped him on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear
that. You take good care of her. I've got to go out
there and do another fucking interview."
Bill strolled out of the room.
When Fran was totally naked he strolled over to the
bed. He looked down at the brunette beauty and savored
the sight in front of his eyes. His cock came to
attention. All twelve inches of his massive organ
stood up as if it were a proud soldier getting ready to
carry out a mission. Of course it was going on a
mission. A rather nice pussy mission.
Phyllis was still oblivious to what was transpiring
around her. She was simply relaxing in the afterglow
of her sexual experience.
She felt a nudging at the portals of her sex. She
guessed that Bill wanted another piece of her ass.
Keeping her eyes closed, she kept her legs wide open.
She knew that she was obscenely splayed, but she didn't
give a shit. She was no longer the same prim and
proper Phyllis. Indeed, she was now a woman hungry for
sex. She realized that she had belatedly come to the
conclusion that she liked cock-a lot. A whole lot.
A smile crossed her pretty face as he kept her eyes
closed. Oddly enough, she noticed that Bill's pecker
seemed much bigger than she remembered. She guessed
that her labia had already forgotten his size and had
to readjust. She felt the head of Bill's cock move
into her. She welcomed him with open thighs.
"Ahhhh!" she sighed as he slid into her. Her pussy was
quite receptive to the re-invasion. Although she
noticed that her pussy had to stretch wider than it had
before. She really didn't mind. In fact, this
particular fuck was starting out feeling even better
than the previous one. She soon realized that she
wasn't only being stretched wider, but that she was
being filled more deeply. She found that very odd.
Perhaps men's cocks just felt bigger the second time
around. She didn't know.
The large cock began to slide into her woman hole quite
nicely. "Ooooh!
Mister President. You feel even better this time!"
Frank smiled when he heard that remark. He liked being
compared to the President. His cock always won out in
comparison. He didn't say anything for fear of giving
himself away.
"Oh! You're so much bigger. You really fill me up."
Frank gave a couple of mighty thrusts, one right after
the other.
"Ohhhh! That's the way I like them, Mister President.
Way up in there.
Deep. So very, very deep. Ahhhh! Just like that.
Ohhh! just keep giving to me like that. Ohhhh!"
Phyllis brought her knees back to her chest so that her
breasts were flattened. Frank drove into her more
forcefully. Since he was in much better shape than the
President, his drives took on a cunt-stunning quality
which was not lost on Phyllis.
"Ohhhh Mister President. I didn't know you had it in
you. Why didn't you fuck me like this the first time?"
Frank couldn't contain himself. "Because I was just
getting warmed up."
Her ears perked up when she heard the voice. There was
something unfamiliar about it. Perhaps the President
was coming down with laryngitis as was his wont. And
yet, the voice disturbed her. It wasn't a bit like
Bill's. Phyllis opened her eyes. They became larger
and larger and larger as she began to gaze at the face
of the man leaning over her. Her mouth began to drop
open. "Who are you?" she asked as she was being
fucked.
"My name is Frank."
"Where's ... where's ... Bill?"
"How the fuck should I know?"
"Oh dear! What do you think you're doing?"
Frank giggled. "If you don't know, then you're more
naive than I thought."
She looked down between her magnificent tits. She saw
them bobbing back and forth. But it was the
cylindrical object farther down which really held her
fascination. The man had the biggest cock she had ever
seen. She didn't even know they could grow that big.
She had only heard rumors about such appendages back in
Catholic School. Wow! His organ was twice the width of
her wrist. It resembled a large cedar fence post
moving around down there.
Very quickly she began to forget about Bill. Now it was
Frank who filled her mind...and her pussy. She
squeezed her cuntal muscles on his cock in an
experiment to find out what would happen.
She soon saw a beaming smile spread across Frank's
face. She squeezed again and noticed that his mouth
opened wide and he panted.
"You sure do know how to fuck, lady."
Those words were music to her ears. "I ... I...do?"
She squeezed her cuntal muscles once more.
"Oh! You sure do!"
Like all women, Phyllis took a great deal of pride in
being complimented on her fucking skills. After all,
in this age of Cosmopolitan magazine, a woman's fucking
skills superseded her culinary skills. If a nineties
woman didn't know how to fuck, she might as well kiss
career advancement goodbye.
Frank had never felt a better cunt in all of his born
days. She was so tight he couldn't hold off a second
more. He had to give her his essence. He had to
cream.
It was at that precise instant he unleashed his load.
"Arrgghhh!" he grunted as he deposited several million
sperm cells inside of her.
The station was in a dither. They didn't know where
their star reporter was. They were looking around
frantically. They had no idea that Phyllis was now
flat on her back and taking it up the asshole from
Frank. Two Secret Service agents were watching,
awaiting their turn at bat. Phyllis figured that her
career wasn't over. She was beautiful, she had
gorgeous hair, and now she knew how to put out. Thus,
she wouldn't be fired. She would have other
assignments with other Presidents. However, she
rationalized that a woman only had one chance in a
million of meeting a man with a twelve-inch cock.
There weren't that many around. She had to take it
while she could get it.
And take it she did!
The station executives looked around for the loveliest
woman they could find. They needed a beauty with as
much sex appeal as Phyllis. A woman with a come-hither
look. A woman with a dazzling smile. A woman with a
body that could give a hard-on to a eunuch.
Fortunately, they found one. She was a very attractive
blonde named Connie. She was a military liaison from
Stars and Stripes Magazine. They asked her if she would
do the interview.
Connie was overwhelmed to be given such an assignment.
Usually such interviews went only to the polished
reporters with years of on-the-air experience under
their belts. She was only a Second Lieutenant.
She eagerly agreed and hurriedly drew up some
questions. She walked out onto the stage, shaking her
shapely ass and wiggling her gorgeous tits along the
way.
Being an all-seeing cunthound, Bill Clinton watched her
approach. His cock gave a favorable twitch. His balls
gave a favorable roll. His sperm began to boil.
Connie sat herself in the chair across from the
President. She crossed her long luscious legs. She
looked at him with a beaming smile.
"So, Mister President, what is your policy on welfare?"
"I don't know. What's yours?" asked Bill.
Connie blinked her eyes. She didn't think she had
heard correctly. "I beg your pardon, sir?" she asked
as she fidgeted with her clipboard.
"Your opinion is just as good as mine. Give it."
She winced. "But ... I'm just a reporter."
"That doesn't matter. Give an opinion. Everyone else
does."
Not knowing what else to do, she again asked, "So,
Mister President, what should we be doing about the
situation in North Korea?"
"North Korea, North Smorea. Who cares? I'm fed up
with the cockeyed world out there. All those
chickenshit countries filled with piss-ant dictators.
They're always begging for money, expecting Uncle Sam
to come along and provide it. Screw them."
Connie wasn't a diplomat, but she realized that the
President was saying some fairly awkward things. The
boys at State were probably going, out of their
frigging minds when such statements were uttered!
"Er .. perhaps we should move on to another subject."
"Yes, let's," Bill said as he surveyed Connie's ample
charms. Although he had just blasted a wad of semen
deep into Phyllis, he had the urge to rut again. He
could see that the blonde in front of him was every bit
as lovely and as sexually as the brunette. And he
preferred blondes. They were so much more fun to fuck.
"Mister President, it has now been twenty-five years
since the Apollo mission which landed men on the moon.
Do you have any plans to reinvigorate the space
program?"
Bill laughed. "The only space program I'm interested in
is the space between your thighs. Right now I've got a
missile in my pants which is ready for launching. Care
to perform a docking maneuver?"
Connie began to perspire. She wondered if someone were
playing a joke on her. Surely the President of the
United States wouldn't say such things to a reporter
during an interview. Even though this was still a
preliminary interview, politicians were more
circumspect than that. Even Senator Packwood.
Bill continued, "I don't care too much about talking,
I'd rather fuck, wouldn't you?"
Connie had never heard such a vulgar statement from a
man in politics.
"Mister President!" she exclaimed as she dropped her
clipboard.
"Call me Bill."
Connie was becoming so flustered, she couldn't think
straight. She began to believe that the world had
tilted off of its axis during the past few minutes.
Perhaps earth had entered the Twilight Zone.
"Let's go backstage and conduct this interview. Shall
we?"
"Mister president! We can't!"
"Why not?"
"We're on the air in only a matter of a few minutes."
"That shouldn't be any problem. We can knock off a
quickie."
"Mister President, I am a respected journalist." "Oh
give me a break! journalists are thought of as lower
than politicians in this country. Come on, let's fuck
a bit."
Connie was becoming increasingly nervous. She looked
from side to side for some help but noticed no one was
near enough to hear the president's improper
proposition. She hadn't expected this turn of events.
Surely he couldn't be serious. "I ...I... I..."
"Come on! Don't-be shy."
He reached out and pulled her from the chair. She found
herself following him. After all, he was the President
of the United States. When the President of the United
States wanted to meet in a special room, it meant that
a journalist had to abide.
He literally pushed her all the way to the rear of the
studio. He kept his hands on her ass as he scooted her
along. He loved the feel of her flesh beneath the
skirt. He loved the way it moved and wiggled. He
hoped that it wiggled like that when it was impaled on
his cock. It struck him that she was dressed in some
sort of dress uniform. Since he had never served in
the armed forces-having dodged the draft and all he
didn't know which branch of the service she
represented. He couldn't even recall the branches of
the service.
Actually he didn't give a fuck. Hey, he was the
Commander-in-Chief! Why should he care?
Ironically, as the Fates would have it, he was her
boss. Suddenly it dawned on him that he could have
some good times with this little honey.
As they rushed to the rear of the studio, Bill saw that
some of the Secret Service agents were standing outside
Phyllis's dressing room. More than one of them had a
smile on his face. A couple were still waiting outside
the door with noticeable bulges in their pants. No
doubt in the not too distant future those bulges would
be used on Phyllis.
Bill shoved Connie into an adjoining room. Once the
door was closed he turned to her and said, "Now, let's
get those clothes off, shall we?"
Connie was truly thrown off guard by that request.
"Could you repeat that request, sir?"
"Get your fucking clothes off-NOW!" he shouted.
She could tell that he was no longer in a teasing mood.
He was more gruff.
More belligerent. More military. She was stunned by
his commanding tone of voice. But then, it would make
sense. After all, he was the Commander in Chief.
"Yes sir," she replied in a whimpering tone of voice.
When he saw her fingers begin to fiddle with the shiny
brass buttons of her uniform jacket he smiled. "Ahhh!
that's the way I like to hear my military personnel
address me."
"Yes sir." Connie resented the fact that Bill Clinton
had never served in the military. The son-of- a-bitch
had spent the entire Vietnam War playing Joe College in
Las Vegas. The closest he ever got to military
experience was watching a few John Wayne movies on
cable television. Even though she thought he was a
vile and wretched President, she knew that she couldn't
very well voice her resentment over his request for
fear of screwing up her career. She began to unbutton
the top buttons of her uniform.
For the first time since he had been elected President,
Bill Clinton, was relishing the role as Commander-in-
Chief. In fact, Bill began to fantasize all sorts of
interesting scenarios. Perhaps it was time to visit
that all-girl barracks down there in Orlando, Florida.
He'd like to do a little late-night inspecting. And he
would love to check out the female cadets at Annapolis.
"I bet you've got nice looking rib melons, don't you?"
"Rib melons?" asked Connie, confused.
"Tits."
"Oh! I suppose so."
"Hasn't anyone ever told you?"
"Er sir..I've never been married."
"So?"
"So...I...er...never..." She stopped and looked down at
the floor. She couldn't speak. Her hands shook as
they attempted to loosen the next button on her
uniform.
The President smiled when he understood. "Are you
saying that you're a virgin?"
She couldn't respond. Instead she simply nodded her
head up and down affirmatively.
The President was ecstatic. He slapped his hands
together and stomped his feet. "Hot damn! I haven't
had a virgin since my days as Governor! I didn't think
there were any virgins left in Washington D.C. It's
been years since I've popped a cherry."
Connie listened to the vile and vulgar man. She felt
nauseous in his presence. Still, she remained standing
in front of him, obeying him as she had been instructed
to do in Officer Candidate School. Nevertheless, she
attempted to appeal once more to his sense of decency.
"Please, sir. Don't make me disrobe."
Bill was anxious to see her body. He wasn't the sort
of man who liked to wait around for the goodies to be
revealed. He wanted things in a hurry. He looked at
the lovely blonde and said, "Now you listen to me,
young lady. I'm your Commander-in-Chief. When you
took a pledge in the military, you vowed to follow my
orders."
"But that was for threats to the country...enemies of
the United States, Mister President."
Bill knew she was right, but he couldn't allow her to
know that he knew.
"Just consider this training for the event of being
captured by the enemy. Pretend I'm a Nazi who's
captured you at Pearl Harbor. Well, you're going to
have to endure the torture."
Tears were falling from her eyes. "Please, sir!"
"Strip!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.
*** Chapter 11 ***
"Yes sir." Being a good little obedient soldier, she
removed her jacket and began to unbutton her light
green blouse. For the first time in her young life,
she was regretting her decision to join the military.
She didn't know she would have to endure such an ordeal
at the hands of her President.
"I can't wait to see your titties."
She hated men who referred to her breasts as 'titties'.
It was so demeaning and degrading. "I would like to
inform you that I'm obeying this order under duress,
sir."
"Save it for your immediate superiors, sister. I'm
your Commander-in-Chief.
You'll do as I say, when I say it. Is that
understood?"
Connie stood at attention while she was being
addressed. She held in her tummy and puffed out her
very ample chest.
Bill liked to make Connie stand at attention. It meant
that he had a much better view of her tits because they
were thrust outward that much more.
"Suck in that gut, soldier."
She did, and her breasts came out another inch. It took
a considerable amount of willpower for Bill not to
squeeze them. He would have liked to, but he thought
any physical contact at that particular time might
cause her to become hysterical.
"Continue undressing."
"Very well, Mister President. I'll do as you say,
Mister President." She spoke with a considerable
undercurrent of sarcasm in her voice. The words
"Mister President" were laden with all the venom she
could muster. She finally had the buttons of her
blouse undone. She attempted to turn away.
"I want you to face me."
Tears continued to fill her eyes. She pulled back the
lapels of her blouse.
She then reached up and unsnapped her bra. Her tits
plopped into view. They shook and shimmied nicely
until they came to rest upon her ribs. A chrome set of
dog tags tinkled in deep valley between her swaying
boobs.
"Ohhhh!" Bill gasped, surprised by their full ripeness.
He gazed at them for a full moment before commenting,
"Those are real beauties. Very nice indeed."
Not knowing what else to say, she replied, "Thank you,
Sir."
"Hurry up and take off the rest of your clothes. I want
to see you naked.
Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!"
She fidgeted with her skirt, finding the zipper with
some difficulty and then pulling it down.
Bill had thought that Phyllis was a knockout, but now
he had to confess that the brunette was only an
appetizer. The main course was the blonde. She rated
an eleven on a scale of ten. "Mmmm! Mama! Those legs
of yours are gorgeous! Absolutely gorgeous."
Indeed they were. She knew she had a lovely pair. Her
assignment to jump school and her daily four-mile run
made sure that she had an exceptional set of gams. She
had been told that by many people over the years. But
no one had ever seen them completely unclothed in their
full beauty.
"You've got the kind of legs which I like on a woman.
Long, lean, and shapely. Hurry up and get those
pantyhose off too. I want to see the rest of you."
"Please Mister President," she sobbed. This was her
last item of defense. When her pantyhose was shed she
would have no more Clothing. Clinton was almost
drooling at the sight the shadow of her pubes visible
through the flesh-colored pantyhose. This bimbo wasn't
even wearing panties under her panties hose!
"Strip woman!"
Connie was being reduced to a buck private. Knowing she
had no other choice, she stuck her fingers into the
waistband of her pantyhose and began to tug them down.
Inch by inch, her tantalizing flesh came into view.
Bill saw the outermost fringes of pubic hair. He liked
what he saw. And then, he saw the pussy itself
revealed in all of its glory. It was a nice plump one.
He loved to fuck plump pussy. it was the best.
The very best.
"Are you a natural blonde?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied as she continued to pull her hose
down her thighs.
"yes, what?" he said with gritted teeth.
"Yes, Sir.
"You haven't had a dye job or anything like that?"
"No, Sir."
"Hot dog!" He brought his palms up to the level of his
chest and rubbed his hands together. "I just love real
blondes. They have such luscious PUSSY."
Connie shed her panties as she listened to him extol
the virtues of blondes, pussies, and spread- eagled
women. She worried that the President might not be all
there. He certainly didn't behave like George
Washington or Abraham Lincoln. Even Richard Nixon
seemed to have more on the ball than Bill.
Once her panties were discarded, she was completely
nude, except for her dog tags. She attempted to hide
her assets by cradling her arms over her breasts, and
placing one leg in front of the other so that her pussy
was hidden from view.
Bill would have none of that. "Stand at attention," he
commanded.
"Please sir, may I cover myself?" she stood as straight
as a new cadet at West Point but moved her hands over
her sex.
"Keep your hands at your side!" he shouted.
She obeyed. She was nervous. He was scrutinizing her
as if he wanted to eat her. She saw the lusty look in
his eyes. She saw the way he stared at her breasts.
His gaze was fixed on her nipples. He stared directly
at them. She reprimanded herself when her nipples
began to respond to his gaze. They puckered. They
stood up proud and tall. She hated when they did that.
She tried so hard to be taken seriously as a journalism
professional with her co-workers but it was always more
difficult to do with her high beams on. Her nipples
were so determined and strong that even a stiff bra was
sometimes insufficient to hold them flat. Erect
nipples sent the wrong signal to a man. After all,
sex was the last thing on her mind.
"Very, very nice," he commented as he walked a slow
circle around her. 'Hell! If I'd known there were
women like you in the service, I might have joined." He
laughed for a second and then said, "No I wouldn't.
Military personnel get screwed by everyone.
She could feel his gaze on her side and on her back as
he circled her. She felt as if she were a slave being
sold on an auction block. She felt degraded by the
slow and thorough inspection.
To make matters worse, once in a while he would reach
out and stroke her hair, or touch her breasts, or
squeeze her buttocks. He would make such comments as:
"Lovely shade of skin." Or, "Such nice firm tits." Or,
"What a delightful ass you have."
She couldn't help crying. Tears stained her cheeks
with their moisture, and tracked downward to her chin.
She had wanted the first time she was naked with a man
to be something special, romantic, lasting.
"Quit sniveling," he commanded.
"Yes sir."
"So, you're a virgin, eh?"
"Yes...Yes..." she stuttered.
"A real live virgin!"
"Yes."
"I've got to check this out for myself." He stepped
closer and reached down between her thighs. "Spread
'em! " he commanded.
"Spread what, sir?"
"Your thighs. Now!"
Without hesitation, she spread her legs, placing her
feet about
shoulder-width apart, like she was getting ready for
jumping jacks. With his gaze now concentrated on her
crotch she quickly covered her heaving breasts with the
palms of her hands. She gasped when she felt his hand
cup her pubis. However, she practically fainted when
she felt his fingers delving into her, parting her
folds, and pumping up into her. She gritted her teeth
as she felt herself splayed upon his invading digits.
"Now, now, I'm not going to hurt you," he said with a
wicked smile on his face. He wiggled his fingers
around for a moment or two, checking her, investigating
her, feeling her resistance. "Mmmmm! You're incredibly
tight."
She remained motionless while he played around in her
womanly hole.
He saw that she wasn't focusing her attention on what
was happening to her.
He decided to remedy that by moving his fingers back
and forth, imitating the action of a penis during the
heat of passion.
"Oh dear!" she moaned. "What...what..oh!...are you
doing?"
"Priming the pump."
"Oh dear!" she reached up to place her hands on his
shoulders. She had to
steady herself some way. If she didn't, she would
surely fall over. He was causing incredibly delicious
sensations to radiate outward from the core of her
femininity. She had no idea that such wondrous
feelings could be created by the simple act of touching
her secret flesh. She worried that she might lose
consciousness if he continued.
"Must you do that?" she asked.
"I must. It's my job as Commander-in-Chief to insure
that all virgins are thoroughly inspected. I must give
you the full treatment. I'm very sorry for any
inconvenience this might cause you, but rules are
rules."
"That's not a rule!"
"It will be tomorrow when I enact the legislation."
"Oh dear!" Connie gasped as she bit her lower lip. She
knew he would make it a rule too, for if there was one
thing that Bill Clinton liked to do it was pass
nonsensical legislation. He wanted laws for
everything.
"You have a very pretty mouth."
Her eyes flew open and locked on his. "And just what
do you mean by that?"
"Not much except that I'd like to have your lips
wrapped around my cock. I think it would make my day."
Her mouth dropped open. She stared at him. "My word!
But you have a filthy mind!"
He chuckled wickedly. "Indeed I do, but then, so do
all men."
"You lie!"
"No I don't. In fact, that is the pure unadulterated
truth. All men have sex on the brain. They all want
to have pretty women like you at their beck and call.
They all want to spear women possessing a body like
yours. They all want to fuck day and night-night and
day. Give a man total freedom, and he will choose to
fuck. Give a man total power, and he will choose to
fuck women under his control. Give a man incredible
intellect, and he will still spend an inordinate amount
of time thinking about pussy. That's the way men are.
That's the way they have always been. That's the
genetic code in a nutshell.
Men fuck, women get fucked."
As he moved his forefinger back and forth within her
aching slot, he noticed that she was becoming
incredibly excited. Her ample breasts were bobbing
back and forth as if they were laden with warm milk.
With his free hand, he reached up and caressed her left
tit. He noted its symmetry and compared it to that of
her right. The perfection was quite unusual. Indeed,
usually one tit was a little bigger than the other.
That wasn't the case with Connie. Her's were exact
replication of each other. They could have been mirror
images.
He noticed that her large pink nipples were distended.
That was a sure-fire sign that she was aroused.
Without hesitation, he lowered his head and planted a
kiss on very tip of the left one.
She gasped when he did that. Her reaction was induced
partly from shock and partly from pleasure.
"I can feel your hymen," he said as he wormed his
finger around inside of her.
"I told you I was a virgin."
"You won't be for long."
"Please don't do this to me."
"Lie down on the bed over there."
"I don't want to."
"You may not want to, but I'm your commanding officer.
I order you. Now!"
"I regret the day I ever signed up in the military!"
"Now, now. Serving one's country is an honorable thing
to do."
"I never thought I would be experiencing anything like
this."
"You're one of the lucky few."
"You're just going to have sexual intercourse with me.
That's not luck.."
"It will be special. I promise."
"Oh, sure."
He decided that he had heard enough of her snide
comments. He spread her thighs and held them apart
with his hands. He gazed down at her opened gash.
It was a sight to behold. It was even better than that
of Phyllis.
"Are you having fun?" Connie asked with a sneer on her
face.
He looked at her and said, "Not yet, but I will in only
a matter of a few seconds."
Clinton desperately fumbled with the belt and fly of
his slacks. Connie refused to look down but instead
focused all of her attention at a light witch on the
wall in an effort to hypnotize herself. Bill bent over
as he slid his silk shorts down to his ankles. He
worked his cock to get it to full hardness and aimed
his cock at her sex. He bent her back by pushing on
one of her breasts, forcing her to expose more of her
vulva. He aimed his cock at her slit and shoved...
"Arrrrggghhhhh!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.
The Secret Service agents who were standing outside of
Phyllis's door, came running over to check on the door
to their room.
"Are you okay in there, Mister President?"
"Sure thing, John. just conducting another interview
with a pretty reporter.
This one is on loan from the Stars and Stripes."
"Very good, sir. You need all the help you can get
with your military image."
"Right you are, John. I think reporter will speak
highly of me in her article."
In the meantime, poor Connie was wailing hysterically.
"How could you! How could you do this to me!"
"Hush doll! It's all over now. There will be no more
pain; only pleasure."
"I'm ruined! Ruined!" she sobbed. "No man will ever
want to touch me ever again."
"Hardly."
"Arrggghhhhfl!"
"One of these days you'll thank your lucky stars that
you were fucked by the President of the United States."
"No way!" she sobbed loudly, while attempting to
dislodge him from between her thighs. He allowed his
cock to rest within her for a considerable period of
time. He had to hold her in place because she was
bucking around so much. Nevertheless, he was stronger
and naturally prevailed.
"Ahhhhh!" she cried in a helpless tone of voice.
Connie tried to back away from the president, trying to
walk off his cock. But Bill took little steps forward,
keeping his organ in her tunnel, until Connie backed
into a wall. He had her now! He buckled his knees to
lower his hips and correct his angle of attack. With
his thighs between hers she couldn't bring her legs
together.
He took a little consolation in the fact that she
wasn't screaming as loudly as she had been. Even
though her wails weren't as ear-shattering as before,
her tears were more copious. He didn't know virgins
contained so much water.
After a few moments, she noticed that she wasn't
hurting that much down there. In fact, since he had
allowed his cock to simply rest in her cockpit, she had
begun to notice a rather nice sensation spreading-
outward from the apex of her thighs. A tingly
excitement began to wash over her. She felt alive!
"Ummmmmm!" she moaned.
Bill grinned from ear-to-ear. That was the sound he
wanted to hear. He began to fuck her in earnest.
"Ummm!"
"You see, I told you that you'd start to like it."
"I hate it!" she hissed.
"I don't think so."
The more he fucked into her, the more she doubted what
she said. She began to enjoy the wondrous sensations
which were washing over her. She felt so filled, so
stuffed, so overflowing with penis. She had no idea
that sex could be like this. She had always heard it
was awful, despicable, and not worthy of attention.
She was learning other wise. And how! The penis in
her vagina no longer caused her any pain whatsoever.
Indeed, it now seemed as if it belonged there. She
could feel the muscles of her cunt wrapping around it,
milking it, and stroking it with loving tenderness.
She was so surprised she could barely believe it.
She lifted her head and looked down to where she was
physically joined to the President of the United
States. She saw his manroot sticking into her. She
noticed the veins bulging around the sides and his
crinkly pubic hair meshing with hers. She liked what
she saw. Her little blonde pubic hairs appeared to be
tangling with his. As he lifted his pelvis slowly, she
saw some of her hairs stick to some of his.
"Do you like what you see, baby?' he asked.
*** Chapter 12 ***
She didn't answer. She couldn't answer. She was too
stunned to know what to say. All of her lifelong
principles of chastity and virtue were being cast
asunder. The ideals she had lived by were being tossed
aside like so much disposable trash.
Not knowing what else to do, she began to fuck back.
At first, she simply pressed her pelvis back to meet
his downward thrust. She did it slowly, worrying that
she might hurt herself since she was so new to the game
of love. She found that she didn't have to worry a bit
about hurting herself.
The more she moved, the better it felt. She closed her
eyes and enjoyed the sensation. It was wonderful.
Truly wonderful. Until this incident, she hadn't
thought much of Bill Clinton. After all, he had done
nothing for the country and was basically nothing more
than a small town politician who had been mistakenly
elevated to national office. He knew nothing about
foreign policy, military affairs, domestic policy, not
the aspirations of the American people, but he did know
how to fuck. Ohhh! Did he ever.
Connie then began to rotate her ass around in little
circles. This variation new sensations of pleasure.
She worried that she might be overwhelmed from the
intensity of them. Every way she moved was a new
delight.
She loved it! She absolutely loved it!
Her rotations became progressively larger the deeper he
plunged.
Once mote, she looked down between their bodies. She
noted the way his cock slid into her. She was
fascinated by the sight. She had always thought she
would be repelled by such a pornographic scene, and
yet, the longer she gazed at it, the more she wanted to
see it. She had no idea that a pussy would took so
lovely stuffed full of cock. Moreover, she had no idea
that she would feel so much like a woman in his hands.
The closest Connie had ever come to having intercourse
was on a date while she
was attending Officers Basic Course. She had agreed to
go out with another cadet and they had wound up on
lovers lane in his sports car. He had persuaded her to
give him a hand job. She had been relieved when the
boy had finally spent his sticky, disgusting load onto
her hand because she knew he would not likely want to
pursue the matter for some time. She had felt dirty,
damaged by the ordeal. And the cadet wasn't even well-
fixed, not like the President!
"Ungh!" she grunted. Ironically, she began to shake
her twat on his pecker. She didn't know that she was
able to do that. Her pussy seemed to draw him more
deeply into her of its own free will. It was like a
Hoover vacuum cleaner and the suction was set on High.
"It's amazing, isn't it?" asked Bill.
Like a typical virgin she decided to play ignorant.
"What?"
"The sight of sex."
Of course it was wonderful. In fact, it was marvelous.
However, as a
recently deflowered virgin who had adhered to outmoded
values, she couldn't very well admit something like
that. "This is vile", she said.
Bill couldn't help laughing. "Ha, you're responding to
me! I wouldn't call that vile!"
"I am not responding to you!" she declared.
"It sure feels that way."
"I have no idea what you're talking about!"
"Well, every time I drive my cock into your body like
this..." he demonstrated by doing just that. "...I see
your eyes dilate with passion and lust."
She attempted to quell the raging inferno of passion
she felt emanating from her lower belly.
"You're crazy! I don't feel anything."
"Oh! Is that so?" He plunged into her several times in
rapid succession.
He did it hard enough so that her large titties bounced
up and down on her ribs. The thrusts were so intense
that her eyelids flew open and her pupils dilated as
before.
Even she had to admit that he was getting through to
her. She doubted if she could control herself much
longer. She was losing it. Her entire body felt as if
it were an inferno of passion. Every part of her
precious womanly real estate was his to do with as he
pleased. And apparently it pleased him no end to fuck
the daylights out of her.
Connie began to shudder with sexual pleasure. "My
word!" she gasped as she was taken to the heights of
ecstasy time and time again. Each thrust put her on a
newer and higher plateau of pleasure.
"There's nothing quite like fucking, is there?" he
asked as he worked on her pussy with his cock.
She didn't reply. How could she? She agreed with him.
There really wasn't anything better than fucking. It
was the best thing she had ever experienced. She
wished that she had taken some sex classes in college
instead of ROTC. She would have been better as a
sexual plaything than she was as a officer. She began
to silently curse herself. She should have been doing
this for years. She wished now that she had started
fucking around when she was a teenager. If she had,
her life would have been far different. Perhaps she
would have found a man with a giant cock! Mmmmm! just
the thought of taking something bigger than Bill's into
her lovely little body caused her to shiver with
delight. She could just imagine being stuffed with
something the size of a rolling pin. Mmmmm! It would
feel so nice. So very nice. Mmmmm! She bet that when
it came to sex, bigger indeed was better.
Just thinking about the life she might he leading had
caused her body to move more vigorously. She was now
rocking her lower body with all the enthusiasm of a
woman in desperate need of penis.
Bill noticed her change in attitude. He smiled.
"Thata girl," said the President as she drove herself
into a sexual frenzy on his rod.
"I am not a girl!" she shouted.
"You could have fooled me," he said with nasty chuckle.
"I am a fully grown woman!"
"And how!"
Her anger vanished as quickly as it had arisen. How
could she remain angry when receiving cock? There was
no way.
She sighed contentedly as she was taken over the
threshold of femininity. At last! She really was a
woman! Before she had simply had the body of a woman.
But now that beautiful body of hers was being put
through its paces. It was being introduced to carnal
knowledge.
Connie spread her thighs a little wider in an attempt
to allow the President a better fit in her cockpit.
She decided that she liked that term for her sex. It
was appropriate. That was her cockpit. It was made for
cock.
And how!
She licked her lips as she became increasingly worried
over to the idea of sexual intercourse. She came to
the conclusion that having sex wasn't such a bad thing
after all. She loved it. The deeper those thrusts of
his went into her tummy, the more she liked it.
"Ungh!" she grunted. "Give it to me! Oh baby, give it
to me."
"Are you sure you want it?" Bill teased.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she gasped, nearly on the verge of
begging.
"In that case, your wish is my command." Bill commenced
fucking her with as much vigor as he could muster. Of
course, he wasn't in as good as shape as he used to be,
but he still could drive a hard cock into a hot hole.
He had kept his back in fairly good condition by doing
sit-ups and toe-touching. He smiled when he noticed
that Connie had locked her legs around his waist. She
had crossed her ankles and was using her calves to
clench his buttocks more firmly, so that her pelvis was
held in place between her thighs. She was truly a
lovely woman. Usually a virgin wasn't won over to
uninhibited sexual intercourse until her third or
fourth week. But this beauty was proving to be an
exception to the rule. She was hot for cock. She
loved it. He began to wonder if she might not be ready
for an orgy at the White House. Perhaps she was.
Perhaps he should invite her.
He felt her cunt milk his cock. There wasn't a better
feeling in the world.
"Here it comes," he grunted.
"Give it to me!"
He did, pushing his pecker as far up into her as
possible and depositing his load.
Afterwards Connie looked at his penis with curiosity.
"Strange, but it's not so big now."
"That's the way it works. Big one minute; gone the
next."
"When will it be hard again?" she asked innocently,
hopefully.
"Why do you ask?"
"I... er .. I'm just curious."
"Would you like to have it again?"
"No!"
"You're lying."
"How can you tell?"
"Your little pussy is Palpitating."
She lifted her head and looked down at it. "it is
not!"
He petted it with his palm. "Look how eager it is for
more of my cock."
"But your cock's not ready .. hey! It's growing!"
"It does that."
"How?"
"It has a mind of its own."
"What is it thinking of?"
"Pussy."
She smiled as she watched the blunt head rise slowly
above his belly.
"Whose?" she asked.
"Yours."
"Oh!" she continued to look at it, fascinated.
"It's getting bigger as we speak."
"Yes, I know."
Connie looked down between her thighs "Now my pussy is
palpitating."
He laughed. "I just bet it is."
"It's hungry."
"Goodness!" he exclaimed with feigned concern.
"I've created a monster."
She reached down between her legs and cupped her sex.
She smiled as she replied, "Yes. And it's a one-eyed
monster."
He watched as she extended her middle finger and slid
it along the entire length of her sex. She poked an
prodded herself. She played with her pulsing passion
pit. She did it as much for his benefit as for hers.
She saw the way his cock lurched upward every time she
stroked herself. She smiled. She didn't know she had
such power over men.
Connie stroked herself several times in quick
succession and watched as the cock bobbed several times
in response.
"Wow! Look at that!" She was quite impressed. She did
it again and saw the same Pavlovian response. She was
fascinated by what she was witnessing.
Bill decided to feed her curiosity. "Isn't it amazing
how these reproductive organs of ours are attracted to
each other?" Bill said.
"My cock wants to slip into your pussy and your pussy
wants to wrap about my cock."
She nodded her head affirmatively. He was simply
stating the obvious. "I have to confess that it did
feel good," she said.
"I know it did. I can still hear your screams of
pleasure in my ear."
"I'm sorry for shouting so loud. I couldn't help it."
"Don't ever apologize for an orgasm," he said.
"Well, it was as much your fault as mine. After all,
if you hadn't done such a good job of fucking me, I
wouldn't have orgasmed so wonderfully."
He thought that was a nice thing to say. He would have
to write it down.
He might be able to use it in one of his Presidential
speeches.
Bill was feeling in a fucking mood again. His cock was
hard and his sperm was ready to flow. He decided that
the time was ripe for a little fellatio.
"Open your mouth and say 'ahhhh'."
"Why?"
"I want to give you something to suck on."
"Suck on?" she asked, confused by the statement.
He reached down between his thighs, grabbed hold of his
cock, and fondled himself lewdly.
She saw what he was doing with his penis. Massaging it.
Milking it. Making it grow larger, bigger and fuller.
Suddenly it dawned on her what he wanted her to do.
She blinked her eyes. "Oh no! You must be joking!" "I
joke not."
She had heard that some women sucked a man's penis, but
she had always associated such a practice with the lewd
and lascivious amongst the gender.
The good and puritanical never resorted to something as
wicked as fellatio.
"But...but...I could never do anything like that."
He continued to play with himself "Of course you can.
All girls can."'
Connie gulped. As she looked at him she noticed that
his organ began to grow. It became bigger. It became
fatter. It became longer. And as it grew the skin
stretched more tautly upon the entire length. The crown
began to resemble a ripe plum. The body began to
resemble a thoroughly packed sausage. The balls tucked
themselves up to his scrotum. The reproductive organ
began to point in her direction.
"I don't know how," she replied. She hoped that would
dissuade him from forcing her.
"No problem. I'll teach you."
"That's all right. You don't have to."
"But I want to. In fact, I want to very much."
She nibbled on her lower lip nervously. Nothing in her
life had prepared her for cocksucking. She hadn't even
sucked on that many Popsicles when she was little. She
now wished that she had played around a bit back in
high school. Then at least she would have some idea
what the real world was like. She had not expected it
to be so sexual. "I don't know if I'm quite ready for
this."
"Of course you are. It's your day of deflowering. What
could be a better day to learn cocksucking than today?
Now open you pretty mouth. I have a nice lollipop for
you."
Realizing that she had little say in the matter, she
did. When her mouth was open wide she saw the
President of the United States take a step toward her.
Soon, his penis was only several inches away. And then
it was only two inches away. And then, less than an
inch! When it was only a millimeter away she felt the
heat radiating outward towards the tip of her nose.
"It's so warm," she commented.
"It's warm because of you," he replied. "Reach up and
touch it."
She did "My my!' she exclaimed, surprised. "It's so
hard."
"It's hard because of you," he said. "Put your fingers
around it."
She did. "It's so big."
"It's big because of you," he said.
She was surprised that she was able to have such an
impact on a man. She never realized the extent to
which men were affected by a woman.
As she moved her hand up and down she noticed that it
continued to grow, expand, and lengthen. It became a
frightening object in her dainty fingers. She was
surprised that she had taken something so large into
her. She realized now that the human body was a
marvelous creation. To think that something so large
as his penis could fit into something so tiny as her
vagina. And yet, this penis was only eight inches
long. This wasn't one of those foot-long monsters she
had heard so much about in Cosmopolitan magazine. This
one was only a couple of inches larger than normal.
"Kiss it," he commanded.
She didn't think she had heard correctly. Surely her
ears had deceived her.
"I beg your pardon?!" she exclaimed with an
unmistakable note of incredulity in her voice.
"Kiss it. On the tip. The very tip. Right there," he
demonstrated by pointing to the glans. "But kiss it
like you mean it."
She hesitated for a moment. She looked into his eyes
to see if he were kidding. She could see that he
wasn't. She continued to gaze at him in the hopes that
he would show mercy and withdraw his request. He
didn't. Thus, she realized that she would have to go
through with it.
She looked at the tip of the cock. She noticed that
the slit in the end resembled a vertical eye. It
seemed to be smiling at her. It also seemed to be
challenging her to go through with kissing it.
Beckoning her. Calling out to her. Goading her to
have a lick.
"Come on!" said Bill. "I don't have all day. Get with
it. I'm a busy man. After all, I'm the President of
the United States. I'm leader of the Free World. I'm
the Big Cheese and the Top Banana." Actually Bill did
have quite a bit of time on his hands. Since he was
such a piss-poor President, many of his duties were
being done by subordinates.
Nevertheless, she listened to her Commander-in-Chief,
and as anyone who served in the military knows,
whatever the chief says, goes.
She knew she was being given a direct order. Like a
good little soldier, she followed through. Thus, she
closed her pretty eyes and prepared to bring her face
forward.
"I want you to look at me as you do that."
She opened her eyes.
"Wider. I want to see the whites."
She fixed her lids so they were as wide as she could
make them.
"Rest your lower lip upon the underside of my cock. Do
you understand me?"
She nodded her head affirmatively. She leaned forward
once more and did as he asked. When the flesh of his
cock made contact with the flesh of her lower lip, she
jumped as if a bolt of electricity had just coursed
through her beautiful body. She had never had such an
overwhelming reaction to anything in her life. She
tingled everywhere. All the way from the tips of her
toes to the tops of her tits. And her midsection was
especially sensitized --especially around the region of
her pussy.
"Wow!" she exclaimed.
It took her several moments to gather her wits.
Rational thought seemed to have taken a hiatus. She
stared at the object in question. She saw the fleshy
rod pulsing to and fro and bobbing up and down. She
wondered how something so innocent looking could create
such wondrous havoc in her body. Even though the penis
hadn't come anywhere near her tiny little abdomen, her
entire tummy was doing somersaults. Her lower belly
felt as if a magic coil had been unwound therein.
And to think, all that had happened was the touching of
cock to her lip. What next would be in store for her?
How would she react if that penis touched her pussy
again? Or if it slid into her pussy again? She was
becoming a cock-hungry woman. She had finally been
transformed.
"Now kiss it," Bill commanded.
She puckered her lips and did so, placing the softness
of her lips against the velvety texture of the crown.
Quickly she pulled her face away. She looked at the
cock and saw that the skin was now pulled very tautly
across the glans. It seemed to be bobbing up and down
more anxiously than before. It seemed ready to shoot
some more sperm. Connie wondered if the length of the
penis had anything to do with the velocity of the
ejaculation. From her Officer Basic School she had
learned that long large-bore artillery guns shot
farther and she wondered if that were true in cocks as
well.
She was surprised that it seemed to have an existence
independent from that of Bill.
"Go on and lick it."
"Lick it!" she gasped.
"Yes. Do it! I command you." Bill found that he liked
giving orders. Even though he had never been in the
military he found that he enjoyed playing Commander-in-
Chief. He could boss anyone around. Er, that is
except for Hillary. His wife didn't take orders, she
took them. Of course, most Americans didn't know that.
They were fed the bullshit by the media that they were
a happy nuclear family. Ha! Nothing could be farther
from the truth.
Once more Connie directed her face towards the upright
organ. This time her tongue preceded her lips. In
only a matter of a moment, her lingual appendage
lightly touched the shaft.
She felt it lurch. She gave a tentative lick. She
found that she wasn't repelled by the act. In fact,
she rather liked licking it. Thus, she licked it
again. And again.
She found that it tasted good. She liked the flavor.
It tasted of onions and salt. She found that the
flavor agreed with her. She pulled her face away for a
second and noticed that a small strand of semen
extended from the tip of his cock to the corner of her
mouth. She felt so embarrassed. She should have
licked that away before she lifted her head.
She saw that the cock had continued to grow under her
oral ministrations. It looked so virile pointing up in
the air like that, waving only a few inches in front of
her face.
He reached down and grabbed the base of his shaft. He
shook it at her and bopped her nose with the tip.
"Come on. Get back to work."
She didn't have to be told twice. She knew she was
being given a direct order by the President himself.
She couldn't refuse. Of course, it could be said that
she didn't want to refuse. This was one assignment
which she truly liked. In fact, it was the best of her
military career.
Once more she opened her sensual mouth. Once more she
kissed the pecker on the very tip. Once more she
allowed it to slide into-her mouth and rest on her
tongue. Once more, she commenced to sucking.
She now realized why so many women sucked cock. Not
only was it a pleasant way to pass the time, but it was
also good for facial muscles. Sucking increased the
dexterity of one's cheeks.
She also noticed that the pre-ejaculate flowing from
the tip of his organ tasted slightly of nuts. Just
then she thought of his nuts. She looked down at them
as they dangled in front- of her face. She liked the
way they hung. Like a beanbag. They seemed so
wonderfully full.
She gasped. She realized that their fullness was due
to the incredible amount of semen contained therein.
Warm viscous semen.
The substance of life.
Honey juice.
Kickapoo joy juice.
Without being told, Connie reached up and felt the
testes with her fingers.
She tickled the wrinkled sac. She ran her fingernails
along the ridges. She weighed them in her hands. She
liked the way they felt. She loved holding them. She
felt a measure of power she never felt before. Like so
many women before her, she realized that she had the
world by the balls. All she had to do was mash those
things in her hand and the fate of the Free World could
hang in the balance.
"Bite my balls," said the President.
She almost burst out laughing. Had she been so
inclined, she would have bitten them so hard she would
have been court-martialed. She could just imagine the
press having a field day with that story. She could see
the headlines now-President's Balls Bitten. She would
been as famous as Mrs. Bobbitt.
But she wasn't inclined to a court-martial. She lifted
her face away from the tip of the organ. She lowered
lips to the base of the cock. She kissed a trail onto
his sac. When she got to the underside of his bag, she
lifted one teste and directed it towards her mouth.
She opened wide. She put it inside.
She wrapped her lips around it. She commenced to suck.
"Bite, don't suck," he advised as if he were a drill
sergeant instructing a boot how to field-strip a M-16.
"Sorry," she said as she did what he requested. "That's
all right. Go back to doing what you were doing."
She did. Oddly enough, she had never considered
kissing a man's balls before. But now, it seemed so
nice, so right, so perfect. She came to the conclusion
that a woman belonged at the beck and call of a man-
especially when that man had a hard-on. She liked
having her face in a man's crotch. She enjoyed the
neighborhood, complete with its dangling balls and
penis. She even liked the aroma. There was something
so earthy about it Natural. The essence of life.
She licked, lapped, and sucked contentedly. She
treated those testes as if they were the most precious
items in the universe. As far as she was concerned,
they were her balls, her playthings, hers to care for.
The President loved it when a woman sucked balls. It
meant that she would do anything for sex.
By the time he got done with the lovely woman, she
wouldn't have an orifice which hadn't been used.
Indeed, he even planned to stick his cock in her ear.
"Ahhh! It's so nice being the Commander-in-Chief! I
love it." In the meantime, immediately outside the
dressing room, John saw the First Lady walking in his
direction. He looked at Hillary. She really wasn't
such a bad looking woman. Perhaps she was a little too
short and stocky for his taste, but she was still
fuckable. At least she wasn't obese and didn't have a
double chin like Barbara Bush.
A quick survey of her charms made him realize that if
given the opportunity he wouldn't kick her out of the
sack. Admittedly, she wouldn't be his first choice for
a fuckmate, but she wouldn't be his last either.
Actually, the most unpleasant thing about Hillary was
her personality. It was quite ugly. He had seen her
fly into a temper tantrum on numerous occasions. Once
she had gotten mad because a reporter asked why she
kept changing hair-dos. She had grabbed the geek by
the tie and shook him until his dentures fell out. Her
ugly disposition resulted from the fact that she was a
megalomaniac. She wanted power and expected everyone
around her to bow to her wishes. She was exceptionally
pushy, nervy, and audacious.
"Where is that husband of mine?" asked Hillary as she
looked around the studio for him.
"I wouldn't disturb him," cautioned John, the Secret
Service agent. "I really wouldn't."
"Why?" she asked levelly.
John hated the tone of voice she used. It grated on
his nerves because it was filled with venom. "He's
inside discussing very serious matters."
"My husband? Bill Clinton? Serious matters? Give me a
break! The man is the worst President this country has
ever known. The only thing he ever did serious in his
life was avoid the draft. He wouldn't even be
President of this country if it hadn't had the good
fortune of being in a three-way race. Hmmph! Serious
indeed. I'm willing to bet that at this very moment he
has his cock buried in some prime pussy."
John couldn't very well dispute that. The woman named
Connie was even, better looking than Phyllis-and
Phyllis had been excellent. "I want in that door right
now," said the First Lady.
"Are you sure?"
"Open it and be quick about it. I've got to catch a
plane for Hollywood in several hours and I don't want
to miss it."
John stepped out of the way. He knew that when the
First Lady was horny for some of her lesbian lovers in
Hollywood, nothing could deter her from her goal. The
First Lady entered the dressing room.
What greeted her eyes was one of the most erotic
tableaus she had ever seen. A gorgeous blonde was on
her knees in front of the President. The blonde had
his cock in her mouth and was moving her head up and
down in a methodical manner. Apparently this was the
girl's first blow job for she held the President's cock
reverently. When Hillary gave head, she went after
cock like she was going after spaghetti. She lapped it
up and swallowed it down whole.
Even from a distance Hillary could see that the woman
was quite beautiful. She had a gorgeous figure and the
skin was flawless. But what really caught her
attention were the swinging breasts. They were
spectacular.
Hillary was envious of all women with large breasts.
Hers weren't that big. But then, most aggressive and
assertive women had small titties. She suspected it had
something to do with hormones. She couldn't be sure.
Even during her bisexual relationships with her lesbian
lovers, she preferred women with larger tits than hers.
The blonde was so attractive, she couldn't keep her
eyes off of her. She wanted to suck on those beauties
of hers. She wanted lick them, lap them, squeeze them,
and play with them for hours on end.
She noticed that she was getting hotter by the minute.
just looking at the beautiful blonde was causing her to
get hot flashes. "So you like to give head to my
husband, eh?" asked Hillary. Connie's eyes opened wide
and she stopped bobbing her head. She looked in the
direction from which the voice had come and saw the
wife of the, President of the United States.
She attempted to pull her mouth off of the pecker but
Bill held her in place.
Her face was half on, and half off of his cock.
"That's all right, dearie," said Hillary. "You can
continue to suck. There's no need to stop on my
account."
Bill realized he had been caught with his pants down.
Of course, it wasn't the first time that had happened.
"Well, hello Hillary. What brings you to this neck of
the woods?"
"I wanted to know why you haven't gotten MY agenda
further along on Capitol Hill? Now I can see why."
"Ah honey! I've been busy."
"Yea, and I can see with what."
Bill cleared his throat. Connie couldn't because she
still had a cock in her mouth. "Er, honey, this is
Connie. She's in the service." "Yes I can see. She's
servicing my husband."
Connie managed to pull her face free. It wasn't easy-
she had to struggle to do it. "Please Hillary. I
didn't mean any harm." "I know you didn't dear. You
simply wanted some cock, didn't you?"
"Your husband made me do it."
"Of course he did, dear. He's the Commander-in-Chief."
Connie didn't like the tone of the First Lady's voice.
Hillary sounded as if she were on Bill's side. Connie
got a sickening feeling in the pit of her belly.
Something wasn't quite right with the First Family. It
was bad enough that the President was a lecher, but the
First Lady appeared to be one as well. Hillary was
looking at her as if she were an ice cream cone. In
other words, she felt as if she were going to be licked
to death.
"You see, when my husband gives you and order, you're
to carry it out."
"Yes ma'am."
"Now, if you don't mind, I would like to sample your
pussy."
The words made Connie cringe. "Wha..?!" she gasped.
"Lay back and spread your legs. I want to sample some
of that fine blonde snatch of yours."
Connie worried that she had died and gone to hell.
Apparently this was the part of hell where everyone was
horny all the time, including the President and the
First Lady.
"Hurry up," said Bill. He wanted to see his wife eat
out Connie. It had been a long time since he and
Hillary had participated in a three-way.
Hillary stripped out of her clothes slowly. And while
she stripped she kept her eyes glued to the body of
Connie. "You've really outdone yourself this time,
Bill.
"How so?"
"She's a beauty."
"I only pick beauties."
"Please let me go," whimpered Connie. She now knew
that she was amongst a perverted Presidential family.
"Now, now, we'll let you go in good time," said
Hillary. "But before we do, we intend to sample that
body of yours."
"Please! If you let me leave now, I won't tell anyone.
I won't even say anything to my congressman, or members
of the media."
*** Chapter 13 ***
"Your congressman is Representative Stemberg. For your
information honey, he's even more perverted than we
are. He likes little boys."
"Oh dear!"
"And as far as the media is concerned, most of them
have been to more orgies than you and I could count.
Why do you think there are so many parties in
Washington? There are a lot, because there are a lot
of orgies."
The lovely blonde attempted to flee, but Bill lunged
and caught hold of her right ankle. She attempted to
kick him with her left foot, but Hillary caught it in
her palm. Both of Connie's legs were now imprisoned.
"Since she won't spread her legs for us, we'll have to
do it for her."
Bill got a hungry look on his face. He was game for a
little thigh spreading.
"Please!" begged the blonde.
"Let's spread 'em, Bill."
Bill went one way and Hillary the other. In the middle
the poor blonde was splayed wide. For an instant she
worried that she would be ripped right down the seam of
her pussy and die an inglorious death on the spot.
However, both Bill and Hillary paused once Connie's
thighs were spread at a 180 degree angle. Hillary saw
the lovely tableau of revealed cunt and was the first
to make a comment. "Oh wow! just look at that gorgeous
pussy! That's truly something. Oh wow! It's
beautiful."
"Isn't it, though?"
"No wonder you were hot for this honey. I would be
too. By the way, have you fucked her yet, Bill?"
"Er.... yes I have."
A smile crossed Hillary's face. "Good! That means
that she's still got some sperm in her. And that means
it's still warm. Hot diggity. Let's tie her to the
couch so that we can eat her out together. I just love
sampling freshly deposited semen."
Connie's eyes opened wide. She couldn't believe what
she was hearing. She now knew she was in the presence
of a twisted First Family. She had to get away from
them. "Nooooo!" Connie wailed, trying desperately to
escape the clutches of her captors, but Bill and
Hillary were just too strong for her. They managed to
retain their grip on her ankles and keep her thighs
spread obscenely wide.
"Noooo!" wailed the blonde once more.
"Now, now, there's no reason for you to resist," said
Hillary.
"Help me!" screamed the blonde beauty.
"We're going to introduce you to the joys of hedonism."
"Noooo!"
"Get her onto the bed, Bill. I want to eat her out."
Soon, Connie was spread-eagled on the bed. She was
flat on her back but she still struggled to free
herself.
Hillary stripped out of her clothes. Over the years
she had gotten quite fast at removing her garments.
Before Connie knew it she was being kissed by another
woman. She thought she was going to gag, but as the
soft lips of the First Lady pressed to her own, she
found herself kissing back. Soon, Hillary was lying
atop her. The two women were breast-to-breast, thigh-
to, thigh, and cunt-to-cunt.
The First Lady's tongue slithered into Connie's mouth.
"Mmuuff!" mumbled the lovely blonde as she attempted to
dislodge the invading appendage.
Hillary lifted her face. "My, but you are one fine
tasting morsel." She reached down and cupped the
blonde's left tit. She deftly squeezed it. "And I
just love women who are stacked."
Ironically, Connie didn't mind the tit rubbing or
squeezing. In fact, she found that it was rather
pleasant-especially when the nipples brushed against
each other.
Hillary began to lower her head to the vee of the
blonde's thighs.
"Hey!" exclaimed the President. "I want to go first."
"No, me."
"Hey! I found her!"
"Tough shit. I go first. I'm a woman."
Bill got angry. "How come you only pull that woman
shit on me when it's to your favor?"
"Because that's the way we feminists are," explained
Hillary. "So cram it up your ass."
"Don't forget I'm the President."
"Ha!" laughed the First Lady. "You aren't much of
one."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"In the latest poll the American people said that they
would rather be governed by Bullwinkle the Moose."
Now Bill was very angry. "Don't forget that my
presidency is as much your doing as mine."
"I didn't fuck things up, Bill. You did."
Now Bill really blew his stack. He grabbed hold of
Connie and dragged her out of the dressing room.
"Mister President, it's just about air time," said one
of the stage hands.
"Good."
A technician came running forward with a coat to cover
the screaming Connie.
Bill grabbed the coat and threw it to the side. He
then turned to Connie and said, "Lady, if you want to
make it to major, you better obey."
Those words had a very soothing effect on her. "Major?"
"If You Play Your cards right, you might wind up as a
general."
"Wow!" Suddenly Connie wasn't concerned about her
modesty anymore. She now saw gold stars on her
military uniform.
Bill sat in front of the camera, completely nude.
Connie stood immediately to his right, completely nude.
The news director was somewhat perplexed by the nudity,
but he figured the President meant to make some sort of
statement about America's declining moral values.
Perhaps this was some sort of gimmick to get the
viewer's attention. He shrugged his shoulders and
nodded for the President to begin speaking.
"Ladies and gentlemen," began the President. "I
believe that the best society is a free society. And
that doesn't mean simply in means of speech and dress.
It also implies the freedom to have sex with whom we
choose. That's right. Men should be able to have sex
with the partner of his choice, just as women should.
Studio personnel looked at each other. They couldn't
believe the President of the United States would spend
Precious air time talking about sex. But one never knew
what Bill was up to.
Bill continued. "You know what I think, I think you all
want a President who, knows how to fuck. I think you
want a man who knows how to ram into a girl. Well, I'm
going to be that type of President. I'm going to show
you just how it's done."
With those words he reached over and grabbed his
attractive accomplice, Connie. Americans watching at
home turned to look at their television screens. They
couldn't believe that the President of the United
States had just uttered the word "fuck" on the air.
When they turned to their sets, they couldn't believe
they were looking at a lovely naked blonde who could
have selected as the Playmate of the Year.
When they saw the President place her atop the desk in
the studio, they knew this wasn't going to be the plain
old everyday political speech. He patted her rump and
said, "This ladies and gentlemen is what life should be
about. Not about war. Not about bloodshed. Not about
crime. We have to get to a better world based on sex.
Hooray for the hedonists! They are making the future of
this planet a wonderful one for all of us."
Folks at home saw the President reach for his cock from
under his flopping shirt tails. They saw him aim it at
the blonde's gaping hole, and then they saw him plunge
away.
Some fellows in a barber shop in Bakersfield were
watching. "Holy shit!" said one of the customers.
"The President of the United States is actually fucking
someone."
"That's nothing new," replied the barber. "He fucks us
all the time."
"No, I mean on the television. He's fucking someone.
On a desk in the television studio."
The barber turned and looked at the screen.
"Well, I'll be damned. That's a first. Of course,
I've seen better.
"You may have seen better on porno, but you've never
seen anything like this from a President."
Several blocks away in a Methodist church, a couple of
women were fiddling with the set.
"Marsha. I think that there's something wrong with
this television. All I can see is this nasty movie."
Marsha came over to took at the screen. She
immediately pulled up a chair to get a better look.
"Well, I'll be. I didn't think they were allowed to
show these kinds of shows."
"I want my soap opera," said the other woman.
"Screw the soap opera. This is by far a better show."
Around the country millions of viewers tuned in to
watch the President of the United States deliver his
momentous speech. And they found that the more they
watched, the more they liked the guy. He may not have
a foreign policy worth a shit, and he might not have a
domestic policy worth mentioning, but the guy had a
sexual technique which was hard to top. Who would have
thought that he would have dared to fuck a woman on
national television.
And so, the American people deduced that Bill Clinton
wasn't such a bad President. After his televised fuck
of Connie everyone agreed that he had his good points.
For one thing, he knew how to fuck. That counted for a
lot with women voters. And he had an appreciative eye
for beauty. That counted for a lot with male voters.
They figured any man who could get quality snatch like
that had to be an outstanding leader.
Thus, instead of being drummed out of office by an
angry electorate ashamed of his hedonistic ways, Bill's
poll ratings went up!
Bill Clinton had secretly tapped into America's love of
porno movies. It seemed that the modern American just
couldn't get enough porno.
Thus, the President cancelled all of his silly Town
Meetings, and instead focused his energy on fucking.
For the first time in ages the ratings for a political
address were far higher than those for other prime time
entertainment.
*** THE END ***
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It's okay to READ stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to HAVE unprotected sex with people other than a
trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
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Kristen's collection - Celebrity Archive