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Archive name: clinton.txt (MF, FF, cheat)
Authors name: Zefferman (zifferman@aol.com)
Story title : Clinton

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-= This work is copyrighted to the author © 1998. =-
Please do not remove the author information or make
any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-
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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 ***

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Celebrity Archive