It is with a heavy heart that I must present you with the following unbelievable, but sadly true story. In this age of political rancor, corruption and misdeeds it is easy to discount yet another shocking political story, yet here it is. It all began in a distant cabin near the border:
Far from presidential Rick angrily stood up and snuffed the candles. So much for romance, he looked down at his lover and growled, "It is time for bold bright colors, not pastels." He then awaited a response but knew there would be none. He'd said it before, it was no secret how he felt and no candle-lit dinner, fine wine or soft music was going to change things.
Grabbing his glass of wine, he gulped down the last of it and then walked into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he peeked inside and then closed it with disgust. "As long as I've got memory, I had something to go..." he paused, glanced back into the dining room. "Are you listening to me?"
He stepped into the doorway and glared. The smooth, cool curves he was so taken with in the daylight seemed cold and dangerous now that the candles were dark. Shaking his head, Rick walked into the living room and looked out the window. The half-built fence was a silhouette against the moonlight. He saw several dark figures appear at the top and then leap down to the rocky soil below. They quickly scurried behind the tool shed and then dashed toward the trees.
Biting his lip, he shook his head and wandered back to the dining room. The moonlight through the window was the only light in the room. He looked at his lover and when he was sure her attention was aimed only to him he spoke, repeating what he had started to say earlier, "As long as I've got memory, I had something to go hunting with. With them outside like that," he nodded back toward the living room, toward the shadowy figures he had seen running across the landscape, "you might say I have something to hunt."
He waited for his lover to respond, but again there was no response. "Do you even speak English?" he asked. He smiled slyly, "I understand, you only speak when you are properly cocked." He reached down, unzipped his pants and stepped toward her.
"Let's see if I can take care of that now," he said, slipping his erection out of his pants. He reached out, ran his fingers over the cool, smooth surface of her skin. It seemed there was nearly a smile as lips seemed to part for him, presenting him with what he always wanted.
Yes, after the candle-lit dinner, the beautiful silence of the night and the seductive moonlight he guided his ample manhood into the darkness. There was an odd quiet, his breath the only sound until he leaned his hips forward, slipping past the lips into the tight barrel of her throat. He moved slowly, pushing deeper and deeper into his lover, letting the sensation shoot over him until he was entirely inside.
He slowly recoiled, feeling the tightness ease as he moved his hips back until only the head of his cock remained inside. Then, moving forward Rick reloaded her as he moaned, "Yeah, now you are properly cocked... I'll bet you are ready to say something."
There was no response, he could only hear his heavy breathing. "Oh I get it," he whispered, running his hand down until he found her trigger. "There you are, I'll bet you say something really soon," he smiled as his fingers caressed the tiny nub of her trigger.
Knowing she say something very soon, he once again pushed forward, cocking her properly. Again the pleasure shot through his body as he felt the tight barrel of her throat encircle him. He moved faster, easing in and out, load and unloading, cocking and uncocking, all the while he encouraged her, diddling her trigger. Finally, when he couldn't hold his fire any longer he arched his back and came, shooting his hot cum into her throat.
Wanting her to come with him, he pressed his finger tight to her trigger and then saw the white hot glaring light as she exploded, searing him with her passionate orgasm of twelve-gage ecstasy. Stunned by the impact of her climax Rick fell to the floor. He looked back to his lover and saw smoke rising from the barrel of her throat, then everything went black.
Strangely voters, we all missed the headlines in the paper the next few days. Odd stories of a presidential candidate missing the republican debates due to an unannounced medical condition all seemed plausible. Very few of us voters made the connection as the Houston Chronicle hit the recycling bins with the article on page A6 slipped from view. The headline "Perry cites 'love affair' with guns" crossed no one's mind.
And now, with the elections looming I must ask, what happens when the President gets caught in the oval office with a semen stained AK-47? I ask you, can the country bear another DNA test in the White House?"
A Concerned Hatchet-ma... ah Citizen