William Howard Taft's Untold Story

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The secret relationship of the fattest US president.
1.9k words
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1910, America as a visitor from the Far East, Mrs. Malinee, or nickname Mali, the 32 years old ambassador from the mysterious land of Mueang Thai, or what Westerners knew as Siam, The America was full of thrills and excitement for men and especially for women. They were enjoying more and more freedoms, instead of being kept at home and unable to do little more than have babies and keep house, now they were working in jobs and earning money of their own, drinking with men in bars and living the "Flapper" lifestyle of parties and indulgence. She would have come to this wild, free America as an ambassador, a citizen of her country that had traveled to find out about this odd, young country and to extend her people's greetings to the United States President.

She would be ushered into the Oval Office, the center of power in the White House, by an elderly white-haired man in a deep black, crisp and starched suit of a butler. As she pad over the carpeted floor to stand before the great oak desk of the President, she see his great head bowed down, concentrating intently on the papers he is writing notes on. She's beautiful in her beaded dress, her hair curled and short in the fashion of the day, around her neck long strings of pearls and tiny glittering stones of a necklace. her makeup, typical of a careless quite young girl in that time, is almost scandalous and perfect; her cheeks are rouged red, her almond eyes painted brightly and her lips a slash of scarlet red. Putting down his pen, President Taft's voice is deep and strong as he begins to greet her as a welcome visitor, then stops speaking as he looks up at her, standing at the other side of his desk.

She feel the heat of a blush on her cheek as he slowly rises from his creaking chair, her eyes widening and she suck in a little breath of air as she see this behemoth rising before her. His light, thin hair is greased down and neatly combed, his impressively curled mustache sits over thick, fat lips that he licks to wetten, his fleshy chins flow from under his jaw and from his chest down he simply swells to an enormous girth. His shirt she can see has a small ring of dried sweat around the collar of his neck, but is otherwise white and stiff. His golden vest with tiny red swirls of flowers sewn in to the fabric was custom-made for his size, but it still strains as he walks around the desk towards her, holding most of his wobbling gut in check. His dark coat seems to barely make the journey around his broad backside to join by one tortuous button on his belly.

Obviously enchanted by her exotic Asian charm, the President gently takes her small hand in his own fleshy one and raises it to his lips, kissing it tenderly in greeting. Her heart flutters as she feel overwhelmed standing before him; his size is so much greater than her, she fleetingly wonder that if he were to trip and fall upon her, would she will be squashed flat beneath his terrible weight.

Alone in the chamber of the President, they both talk for a while about relations with her respective countries and soon are at ease with each other. Her eyes cannot leave his features as she gaze with shining eyes at his fascinating body, taking every opportunity to touch his arm, to lean in to him, to even lay a hand on his firm, fat stomach as she giggle over some clever take of her homeland that she have amused him with.

Soon, she so inflamed with desire for him, that she dare a thing that, if it went wrong, would mean disaster for relations between America and Mueang Thai. She introduce into the conversation that her culture, so ancient and wise, has many customs that a young country like America would find strange and unusual, but are very important to her people. President Taft listens to her words and she's secretly relieved that her little lie has borne fruit as he earnestly agrees that whatever she must do to formalize relations with our countries, he would be willing to be a part of.

She explains that she must kiss him, as a show of the bonding between her peoples. The President is now the one blushing, but he agrees readily and leans in, cupping her jaw in his huge, fleshy hand and draws her close to him. She smell the sweet odor of his cologne and his thick mustache tickles her lips as his wet, fleshy lips envelope her, the heat from them searing her own mouth as she head swims, intoxicated by his boldness at her request.

As she break the kiss, she exhale a little and gasp, aroused by his surprising gentleness for such a huge man. Seeing the hungry, burning eyes that he transfixes her with, she almost forget her clever plan and just stare at his shiny wet lips, wanting to kiss them again.

Breaking her reverie, she thank him for the sweet kiss, but explain that she had found it difficult to say it properly in his language; when she said "Kiss", she meant something different, something that would intimately link their two countries together.

Kneeling on the carpeted floor, her fingers unbutton the fly of his pants. His huge belly brushes the top of her head as she lean in, running her nose into the open fabric of his pants, sucking in deeply the warm muggy air from inside his pants. Holding the musky scent in her nostrils, she reach a tiny hand inside the fly and fish out his cock. Filling her hand with his hot, wrinkled meat, she guide it to brush her lips and cheeks as she murmur to him that this was the kind of "Kiss" she meant. She hears the President groan like a wounded bull as she takes his tip into her mouth. The taste is like salt and butter on her tongue as she let it lay on the bed of her tongue, loving the flavor of this huge man's penis.

She begin suckling on it like a baby goat on her mother's teat and quickly she feel those two massive hands on her head, holding her in a tight grip as she aggressively suck and tongue-bathe his thick, long cock.

She was pulled to her feet and spun about, finding herself bending over the oaken desk as she feel hot meaty hands slide up her stockinged legs and slide her dress up. She rotates her hips seductively, grinning over her shoulder at the red-faced man whose eyes are sparkling as he surveys her beautiful ass. She see that his vest button has finally given way and is split open and that he has pulled his white shirt up over his belly and has partially dropped his pants. His white, pasty stomach bulges proudly out and is warm and hairy, pleasantly scratching her ass cheeks as he lays it on them, guiding his dripping old cock that now, for the first time in years, is rigid and straining to fuck.

As President Taft enters her pussy from behind, she feel his passion grow inside of her. She cries of joy spurs Taft to begin stroking in and out of her more rapidly, his thick, fleshy cock humming inside of her as his fat belly slaps her ass cheeks. Her tiny frame is dwarfed by this monster, yet she clench down even tighter with her pussy, encouraging this towering fat man to fuck her harder.

As he pulls free of her, he rolls her over onto her back, the papers on his desk rustling under her dress as he raises her legs and splays them wide open, her dress hiked up to her waist; she can scarce believe that the President of the United States is fucking her so well, but she's happily reassured that he is as his thick sweating gut presses down on her own belly. The heat and sweat of their two stomachs as his engulfs her adds to the moment as he slides his dick into her again, this time leaning in close to look deeply into her eyes as he fucks her harder and harder. Sweat pours from his red, fat face and the drops touch her tongue; she savor the salty water as he puffs and wheezes over her. She begins to gurgle and clench her teeth as his swollen dick rubs just the right spot in her, bringing down her the shower of love from her belly. Her orgasm is like a fox racing though her, swirling and ducking around inside of her before bursting apart, making she feel the fuzzy heat dissolve in her stomach.

With her face close to his, he sees the intensity of her orgasm on her pretty face and makes a high-pitched squeal of his own as he now violently hammers his dick into her hot, humid hole. From over his starched collared shirt, she see his fat neck and face turn a deep beet red as he cums hard in her cunt, his overweighted hips pounding her smaller pelvis, threatening to shatter it as the obese President bounces his full weight against her trapped frame. She was pinned beneath this rutting behemoth, the polished oak desk she lay upon being so solid and steady that she feel like a piece of metal on an anvil, all hot and pliant as President Taft hammers her pussy into the perfect shape to hold his dick. She's helpless and unable to move as the fat man collapses over her, his prodigious form engulfing her, covering her completely as she struggle to breathe, his bloated chest covering her own, making it almost impossible to take in air. As her vision grows darker and darker, she feels herself slipping away as she weakly move her arms and legs, silently praying for air.

She awake on the leather back seat of the President's private car, the cool air streaming in through the window refreshing her as the automobile bounces down the street, jostling her more awake. Her mind reels with the return of what she had done, of what a scandalous thing she had committed with the head of a foreign country and she was pieced with a coldness in her stomach as she notice two strong, serious-looking policemen are up in the front seat, driving the car as it wends down a private, wooded street.

Thinking that she's headed for prison, she meekly ask the gentlemen where they are taking her. Without looking back at her, the driver informs her that she being driven to President Taft's private residence where he will join her later that evening.

Sighing in relief, she collapses back into the comfortable leather seat, relaxing. As she watch the scenery pass by, she reach under her skirt and are not at all surprised to find her cunt sopping wet, fairly bubbling with the thick, creamy juice of the President of the United States. Tasting a bit of the salty cum on her fingers, she wonder just how long will it be before she tucked into the silken sheets of his bed, her body snuggled against his huge form as she lay her head on his obese belly, the rise and fall of it as he breathes lulling her to sleep. She decides that for the sake of their two peoples, she shall stay with him for as long as she can.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

Third person singular...

Other than that and the slightly far-fetched storyline, I must say I like it. Tafts description in stark contrast to hers is a strong image that does a lot for me. The author knows a lot of words, not all befitting (rutting behemoth?) but with practise....

AnonymousAnonymousover 3 years ago
Hands Down, the most iconoclastic and original story I’ve seen on Lit.

Apparently written by an author for whom ESL. I’m no grammarian but can safely. Say the author desperately needs an editor.

AnonymousAnonymousover 3 years ago
Taft, You Old Dog!

Never thought I'd see a story with President Taft in it!

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