DISCLAIMER: The writer in no way questions the actual sexuality of the individuals involved. Any situations and incidents are purely fictional and in no way reflect actual events. The writer also holds no license agreement to the following politicians and/or publicized events that may be mentioned. All persons and events are a copy write and/or are the property of the people and public events themselves. The author in no way holds or maintains any rights to situations, events, and individuals.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Some of the political terms have been skewed into my own time line for creative license.
Presidential Privileges
Part Six Monticello, Va. 1794
Alexander Hamilton was greeted at the main door by an apparent house slave. The 39 year-old statesman took in her striking beauty. He primarily noticed her complexion. She was nearly white; probably Mulatto. His eyes narrowed in appraisal; dusky Sally? Her greeting at the door brought to hand the matter for the visit.
The house slave led Hamilton to the solar where he was greeted by Thomas Jefferson. He was seated upon a french settee but rose as they entered the room. Hamilton took in the 52 year-old man. He was still an attractive looking man, with rich hair pulled back from his face, broad shoulders, a clear complexion. He looked younger ten years younger than his actual age.
"Welcome Alexander," he greeted in a warm rich voice.
"Its always a pleasure," Hamilton extended a hand that was clasped by Jefferson's form shake.
"Please," Jefferson indicated a second settee facing the one he had only moments before been seated upon, "be seated."
Hamilton sat and Jefferson turned to the house slave. "Sally," as Jefferson mentioned her name, Hamilton scrutinized the girl again. "Please see to some refreshments. But we require an hour's privacy before we should be served."
Sally curtsied and cast Hamilton a curious glance. As the girl left the room, pulling the door closed behind her, Jefferson resumed his position upon the settee facing Hamilton. At the vantage, Thomas took in Hamilton's appearance. A strikingly handsome man, Hamilton's muscular physique was an indication of his military service. Although the man obviously still retained his peak condition through hard work and physical labor.
"Mr. Jefferson," Hamilton began, "I feel I must come directly to the point. I have been dispatched for a most pressing matter; a delicate matter. I speak on behalf of a group of concerned individuals in regard to the precarious life style you have chosen and how it is diametrically opposed to your ambitions to the presidency."
Jefferson leaned back in his settee and extended his legs out in a relaxed fashion. "By precarious life style," he wanly smiled, "you refer to Maria Cosgrove."
Hamilton inhaled deeply. "Maria Cosgrove was but the impetus of this...." Hamilton strove for appropriate words, "this lasciviousness."
Jefferson nodded. "I see."
"Miscegenation is understandable." Hamilton understood that sexual intimacy between Master and slave was unavoidable. Socially it was frowned upon but publicly most merely averted the matter. "However, for a public figure it is unacceptable."
Jefferson smiled. "I am a man first, politician second." Jefferson briefly focused on the long ago whispers regarding Hamilton and a fellow military cadet, a John Laurens. "I have physical needs; needs that should be addressed."
"So you rut like an animal," Hamilton scoffed.
"I am human." Jefferson nodded. "You have needs. I am familiar with those needs. I am familiar with many forms of needs." He chuckled. "Paris is quite cosmopolitan; quite enlightening," he prevaricated.
Hamilton's mind wandered.....momentarily to his relationship with John Laurens. His eyes wandered to Jefferson's tight breeches and spread legs. He noted the clearly evident bulge of Jefferson's sex. His eyes widened; so Jefferson was blessed as an animal as well. Hamilton shifted in his seat.
Hamilton cleared his throat awkwardly. "I do not know what it is you refer to Mr. Jefferson.
Jefferson hook the tip of his boot behind one of the legs of Hamilton's settee and roughly pulled it closer. "I believe that you do." Jefferson's calculated mind registered on Hamilton's wealth and philanthropy. Jefferson's debts were amassed highly. Hamilton was an attractive man. Jefferson could entice a loan and enjoy fringe benefits as well.
Hamilton eyed Jefferson warily. "I expected you to be above idle gossip."
Jefferson nodded. "As you and the others in regard to dusky Sally?" Hamilton frowned and Jefferson lifted a booted foot and ran his foot up across Hamilton's stirring sex. The beauty of breeches, Jefferson marveled, was the inability to conceal male arousal within the garment. Hamilton tensed but did not move away. "I am familiar with the ways of sodomy." Jefferson continued, the smooth leather of his boot caressing Hamilton's stiff sex.
"I.....I....am at a loss for words, Mr. Jefferson," Hamilton babbled. He shifted in his seat recalling the pleasure of Lauren's sex cleaving his arse. Jefferson was much more endowed than Lauren. The possibility of Jefferson's sex following suite sent a shiver through Hamilton's body.
This was madness, his rational side argued. However his physical self urged him to acquiesce.
"Words are unnecessary," Jefferson leaned closer.
Hamilton saw his full lips move closer and understood that Jefferson was going to kiss him. "Do rutting animals kiss?" He bluffed, nervously.
"Rutting men do," Jefferson murmured as his breath fanned Hamilton. Hamilton tensed the minute Jefferson's lips touched his own. The kiss was soft initially but the moment Hamilton gasped in pleasure, Jefferson deepened the kiss, his lips hungrily opening Hamilton's, his tongue thrusting in.
Hamilton returned the pressure and stroked his tongue against the length of Jefferson's. Involuntarily, Hamilton's arms lifted and wound around the column of Jefferson's strong neck. His fingers yanked at the knot holding Jefferson's hair and loosened the tresses. Hamilton's fingers ran through and tugged the locks of rich hair.
For his own part, Jefferson gripped Hamilton's waist and pulled him from the settee across to his lap. Hamilton pressed his body against Jefferson's hard frame. The fluid movements he shared with Laurens returned. Hamilton loosened Jefferson's breeches and eagerly pulled Jefferson's hard hot sex from the garment. His hands stroked the length eagerly. He wanted Jefferson inside of his arse desperately.
Jefferson followed Hamilton's lead and lowered his hands to Hamilton's arse. He yanked the younger man's breeches roughly down exposing Hamilton's rounded muscular flesh. Jefferson smiled in satisfaction as Hamilton briefly rose and adjusted comfortably. He straddled Jefferson's waist. Reaching around, he gripped Jefferson's hard sex and lined it with his arse cheeks. Jefferson's hands moved to Hamilton's waist and the younger man thrust down upon Jefferson. Jefferson's hard sex breached the arse muscle. Jefferson's sex slid fully within, eliciting a grunt from Hamilton.
Hamilton tightened his glutes around Jefferson's hard sex. He moved his arse, riding Jefferson as he did Lauren's years before. With each of Jefferson's upward thrusts, he pushed back, meeting in a hot shiver. He rode harder and Jefferson's hold upon his waist tightened.
"You.....did.....not.....learn....this....in....Paris," Jefferson chuckled between grunts and thrusts.
"Mmmmmm," Hamilton murmured withering upon Jefferson's staff. "It has been a long time since I last rode a man as this."
Jefferson bucked his hips up.
"Ughh!" Hamilton grunted.
"John Laurens I presume." Jefferson's touch on Hamilton's waist guided him up and down on his throbbing sex.
"It is unimportant," Hamilton gasped. "Harder!" Hamilton instructed. "Deeper!"
Jefferson complied, his sex surging powerfully within Hamilton's tight hot hole. Hamilton's arse muscles caressed Jefferson's staff. His testicles were tightening. He knew the explosive spasm would come shortly. Hamilton leaned closer, rubbing his chest against Jefferson's as he ground upon the pulsing invasive staff. Hamilton would seed soon. His testicles were tightening. The two men's breathing was spasmodic.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh ughhhhhhhh," Jefferson released a flow of seed within Hamilton's arse. As Jefferson's staff surged within Hamilton, it elicited Hamilton's own release of seed. The seed shot from the tip of Hamilton's sex and splattered Jefferson's ruffled waistcoat. Hamilton squeezed his muscles harder and milked Jefferson's seed completely. Hamilton's last drops of seed spluttered low to Jefferson's bare thigh. Their breathing was deep and ragged.
Jefferson regained a bit of composure and gently patted one of Hamilton's arse cheeks. "Lascivious life style, indeed," he reprimanded.
From a secret doorway to the solar, Sally Hemings listened and furiously scrawled upon the journal. She patted the unborn child in her stomach warmly. This would ensure Master Jefferson complied with his promise made in Paris concerning the freedom of their children.
President George W Bush lifted his eyes from the aged journal and gazed across his desk at Dan Quayle. "Where did you get this?" He enquired.
Dan smiled. He wasn't sure of the contents but he was aware that it pleased George W. This was fortuitous for Quayle. He hadn't been fucked by George W in quite some time and he desperately wanted to ride the president's big cock. He may not have been able to spell potato but he undoubtedly recognized that George W's cock was a big around as a potato.
His ass burned for it.
George W inhaled a sigh of relief. Obviously Quayle had no idea of the enormity of the document. Quayle deserved an award. He pushed his chair back from his desk, unzipped his slacks and withdrew his hardening cock. Quayle watched, fascinated.
"Why don't you come around here," George W invited stroking his hard cock, "and take a ride on this."
Quayle stood, dropped his pants, exposing his creamy round ass and stepped out of the pooled slacks. He moved around the desk and lifted a leg and began to straddle George W......
California, the hotel room of Bill Clinton:
Bill Clinton sat back on the bed, legs thrown wide. He was stroking his hard cock, looking at Tucker Anderson intently. "Why don't you bring that pretty little conservative butt over here?" He encouraged silkily.
Tucker was sweating profusely as he tugged at the collar of his shirt and bow tie. He was amazed at the sight of Clinton's cock. It was much bigger than Linda Tripp hinted from her conversations with Monica. Tucker had never fucked around with a man before and he wasn't sure he was willing to start with some one so big.
As if on cue, Secret Service agents Bob Paris and Miles O'Keef stepped from the shadows. The former body builders took one arm each and prevented Tucker from moving away.
Clinton nodded. "Strip him fellas," he instructed.
As instructed, Paris and O'Keef began to disrobe the young conservative.
Clinton was pleased by the muscular expanse of chest and stomach exposed as the tie and shirt was discarded. He was even more pleased by the tight round butt exposed when Tucker's pants were yanked down and off.
"Nice," Clinton marveled. "Bring him over here. Its about time I fucked the hell out of that pretty little republican ass."
O'Keef and Paris gripped him by the arms and legs and lifted him easily from the floor. Tucker would have protested, but under the circumstances, there was no point. He gulped again as the two muscle men carried him closer. His eyes focused on Clinton's large erect cock. The two men lifted him above the bed with his ass poised over the President's hard cock. Tucker's breathing increased wildly as he was slowly lowered down. He had his back to Clinton so he was unable to read the man's expression. He bit his lip as the head of Clinton's cock pressed against his puckered hole.
Clinton nodded and Paris and O'Keef firmly thrust Tucker down over Clinton's cock. The tight hole seemed to pop and slurp as Clinton's cock broke the virgin barrier.
"Fuckkkkkkkkkkkk," Tucker wailed at the piercing pain.
"Yeahhhhhhhhhhhh," Clinton hissed and the hot tight hole clung to and rubbed his hard staff. Clinton wound his arms around and across Tucker's flat but convulsing stomach. The hot little republican twink was breathing in deeply, no doubt trying to grow accustomed to a cock up his butt. Tucker was panting, but made no effort to move off.
O'Keef and Paris stepped back and unzipped their slacks. Each pulled out an impressive 8 inch hard cock, each. Tucker momentarily noted that not all body builders necessarily had small dicks.
"Ready for the ride," Clinton murmured rubbing his hands up and down Tucker's flat stomach and hard pecs.
Tucker bit his lip again. The pain was slowly subsiding and a warmth was flowing through his body. His butt muscles were clenching and squeezing around Clinton's staff. He felt full but not nearly as uncomfortable as the initial thrust. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. He slowly nodded. "Y...yeah. I...I think that I am."
to be continued..........