264 lines
11 KiB
Plaintext
264 lines
11 KiB
Plaintext
HOT FOR HILLARY (RODHAM CLINTON) (5/6)
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By B. Traven
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**
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The next morning she was friendly when he came to pick Hillary up to escort her
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downstairs to the convention. With a mischievious smile she handed him a
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rolled-up bundle for him to dispose of; and when he examined it he
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discovered that it was the nightgown and panties he had ripped off
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of her the previous night. He looked at the bundle guiltily and quickly
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threw it down the incinerator. Other than that, nothing passed between them
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about the night before. At the convention she gave a very well-crafted
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keynote address on the need for a national health care plan; and
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crowd applauded loudly afterwards. She displayed the same remarkable skills
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she had shown the previous day in working the crowd. He watched her from
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the back wall giving her sales pitch with her sparkling smile and bright eyes.
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Last night had been like a dream, and he wasn't sure what to make of it yet.
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He watched Hillary and felt himself light-headed and warm at the same time.
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God help him, he thought, he was falling in love. He fought hard to
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to suppress that thought.
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He tried to catch her eye, but Hillary didn't seem
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to notice him. He shouldn't have felt bad about this because after all
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it was a Secret Service agent's job to remain in the background and not be
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noticed. Later she went up to him and flashed a friendly smile.
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"I've been thinking about you all day", she whispered as she brushed her hand
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lightly against the front of his pants, feeling his now-erect cock underneath.
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His heart lept, and he looked around wildly to see if anyone noticed, but
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no one seemed to see anything out the ordinary.
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"Tonight." she whispered longingly; and, then, left him there with his
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heart racing.
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**
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He felt like a nervous teenaged girl, waiting by the phone in his room
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for Hillary to call. She didn't actually say she would call. They didn't
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say much as he dropped her off after the convention and they each went to
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their room. But he assumed she would call him later to tell him to come
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to her room. She would at least have to call him if she was planning on
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going out so he could accompany her as Secret Service agent. She's not
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going to call, he thought, and his heart sank.
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The phone rang. He grabbed for it, almost knocking it to the floor.
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"Aren't you coming, John?"
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"Uh, sure. I'll be right there." he stammered.
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He knocked on her door.
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"Come in."
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She was sitting on the sofa wearing the same robe as she did the previous
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night. She smiled but didn't get up.
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"I thought that day would never end." she said wearlily.
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She looked at him with a twinkled in her eye,
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"How come your clothes are still on, John?"
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He quickly took his clothes off. He felt nervous standing there wearing nothing
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but an erection while Hillary Clinton still sat there in her robe watching him.
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She studied him. Drinking in the details of his body.
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She got up, and ran her fingers through the hair on his chest. Her touch
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was electric, sending tingles down his spine.
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"You have a nice body, John." she said in a low voice.
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She wrapped her hand around his engorged cock, stroking it lightly. Then, she
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squeezed hard, making him wince.
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"Oow." he cried with pain, but he was still erect, though.
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In fact, his cock was throbbing with
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excitment.
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She removed her robe slowly and deliberately while she watched his reaction.
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Hillary Rodham Clinton had on a shiny black leather corset with
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matching thigh-high boots. Why hadn't he noticed the boots before
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under her robe? The corset accentuated rather than covered her nudity.
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The corset was open at the top exposing and lifting her breasts high.
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Below, the corset came down to her navel.
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Since she wore no panties she was bared ass
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from there down to top of her boots. The black contrasted well with her
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golden blond hair and light complexion.
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"Like it?" she said teasingly. He was very excited, and also felt a sense
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of dread like a bird transfixed in the gaze of a snake. He swallowed dryly.
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She touched his cock again, and he felt like jumping out of his skin.
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"A little jumpy?" she asked playfully.
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She reached over and picked up a black bag from behind the sofa chair. He
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followed the curves of her rounded bare bottom as she bent over.
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She picked up what looked like a doctors bag, and placed it in front of him.
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"What's that?" he asked in a weak voice.
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"Just a bag of tricks I bought at a shop in Miami recommended to me by
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Janet Reno. That old bull dyke knows all the tricks."
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Sweat beaded on his forehead. He felt scared in spite of his excitment.
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He knew he was not ready for this kind of scene. This was going too far.
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She pulled some long silk scarfs out of the bag.
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"Give me your hands, John." she demanded.
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"No.", he said in a firm voice.
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"I'm not doing this, Hillary. You're a good-looking lady and you can
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certainly excite me, but this is going too far. It was nice but it is
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going to end here. I'm getting dressed and going back to my room."
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She started to say something, but he cut her off.
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"And don't try the rape ploy either. I'm sure you'd have as much to
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explain as I would."
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He expected a fireworks of histrionics from her, but
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she said nothing and looked at him disappointedly.
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Calmly reached over to his bundle of clothes on the floor and picked up
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his gun.
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"Hillary!" he shouted. But she had the safety off and the gun pointed at his
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abdomen before he could react.
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"I didn't want it come to this, John. But you disappointed me."
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"Hillary, please give me the gun. Look, we can play any games you want -
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just give me the gun." he said trying to keep his voice calm.
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"As you've said, John. It's gone too far." She pushed the gun against
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his stomach. The blue steel gun felt cold against his skin.
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"Go in the bedroom, John." He could have tried to make a grab for the gun.
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And he though he could have succeeded, but he wasn't sure. He felt very
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vulnerable standing here naked with a gun pointed at him. Later he
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would wonder shamefully whether he hesitated because he really wanted
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to go through with Hillary's game.
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He entered the bedroom, sweaty and shaken. She followed behind him with
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the gun.
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"Get on the bed, John." He carefully streached out on the bed. He looked up
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at Hillary longingly. He was hoping they could fuck and she would, then,
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forget the gun.
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"The other way, John."
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She saw the puzzled look in his eyes.
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"Turn around on the bed face down", she said as if talking to a small child.
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She raised the gun.
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"Do it, John.", he turned around on the bed, feeling more vulnerable with
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his bare ass sticking up. He looked behind him, not knowing what to expect.
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She walked over to him. He could smell the musk of her arousal.
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She expertly tied his hands and feet to the bedpost. He was relieved to see
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her place the gun down carefully on the endtable by the bed. If he could
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get his left hand untied he might be able to grab the gun before she could.
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He pulled at his restraint and it seemed too tight.
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"Here we are, John. I really shouldn't have had to use the gun. You'll see -
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it won't be so bad. In fact you might beg to be tied up by me later."
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"Hillary, it doesn't have to be like this. Let's just make love the normal
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way."
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She reached into her black bag and pulled out a riding crop.
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"Normal?" she laughed, "What is normal? You have a lot to learn, John, about
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the ways of making love."
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He pulled at his restraints madly.
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"Hillary! please." he pleaded. "Hillary, I ...", he voice caught for a moment.
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"love you." He couldn't believe he was actually saying that, but being tied
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up naked on a bed with a beautiful woman standing over you probably helped
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focus your thoughts.
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"I love you too, John." she said as she cracked the whip down hard on his
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ass. The sharp pain caught him by surprise, and a drew a deep breath.
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She rubbed the raised welt on his buttock lovingly.
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"As you might have heard there is a fine line between pleasure and pain.
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Since the days of primitive humans sex has always been accompanied by
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a measure of pain."
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She cracked the riding crop hard on the opposite buttock.
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"You've seen the caricatures. The brawny caveman drags the woman to his
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cave by her hair. You never see the next scene where he violently
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fucks her brains out in the dampness of the cave. Sex and pain."
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She cracked the whip again.
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Maybe he was getting used to the pain because it didn't hurt as much this
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time. He pulled his left hand again at the restraint.
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It didn't budge. He tried to think of what he had read long ago about
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Houdini's technique for untying ropes. He studied the knot, picturing it
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in three dimensions in his mind. He pulled slightly at the knot testing
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it for weakness at different angles.
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Hillary continued, talking as she were addressing a lecture hall.
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"What do the cave people do afterwards? Do they fuck again? Maybe they
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expect the pain the next time because its association has been ingrained
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in their psyches. Maybe she begs him to pull her hair as they fuck like
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dogs in the darkness. Outside the cave maybe he has to fight off rivals
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for the woman, again associating pain with sex."
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She struck him again followed closely by another blow.
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The pain seemed to settle into a warmth deep with him. Maybe she was right
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about pleasure and pain. His erection pushed painly against bed. Trying
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to keep a clear head he tested the restraint at his left hand further, feeling
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careful for a loosening.
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"You're feeling it aren't you, John. Its nothing to be ashamed of. Its the
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way we're programmed biologically."
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She struck him again, this time in his crack, that caused him to cry out
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in pain.
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"I'll tell you another secret, John. Deep within our brains near the stem,
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the most primitive part of the brain - the reptilian mentality within us -
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lies the archetypes we're programmed with. The patterns or roles that we
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assume out of pure instinct. Within each of us lies the roles of master and
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slave. We have tried to cover up this dirty secret through layers of
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cortical tissue and thousands of years of human culture, but it is always
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there within us in our true selves. It all comes down to submitting or
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dominating. That is the essence of sex and of politics."
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She flicked the riding crop quickly now, hitting him hard but still
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controlled.
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"Hillary ..."
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"You're close to coming now, aren't you, John."
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In spite of himself, it was true. He rubbing his cock against the sheets,
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seeking release.
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She reached under him and grabbed his cock. He immediately started humping
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her hand.
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"I thought so, John." she smiled. With a couple of firm strokes of her
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hand she made him explode in a violent orgasm. He pumped wads of semen into
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Hillary's hand in spasms.
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She pulled out her hand and inspected it. She smiled and wiped it on the
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bedsheet.
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