Inside Hillary Clinton

This is, of course, a work of imagination. Any resemblance to events in the real lives of those mentioned are entirely coincidental.

*

I've been involved in politics most of my life. Mostly in local races for candidates you've never heard of, but over time I've worked my way up and now I specialize in national contests, mostly for democratic candidates. I helped elect a democrat to congress in a Pennsylvania district that had long been a republican stronghold, and I guess that's what caught the attention of the national party.

Like a lot of people, I had mixed feelings about Hillary Clinton, but I couldn't resist such a high-profile campaign. She was the leading democratic contender, had a strong base in New York, good fundraising and incredible name recognition. These were certainly factors I could build on.

What I wasn't prepared for was the effect she had in person. At our first meeting, she took my hand in both of hers and looked me in the eyes.

"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Clinton," I said,

"Hillary," she responded with a smile. "I'm so glad you're here, John," she said. Her hands were warm. "Tell me about yourself." I did so, feeling myself falling into those amazing eyes.

I was stunned. In seconds, this woman had completely pulled me in. The personal magnetism of her husband was famous, but she had always been in the background, and I was amazed to discover that her charisma was, if anything, stronger than Bill's.

We talked for quite a long time, about her, about me, and about the campaign. After an hour, I felt like Hillary was a dear friend. I would do anything for her, and I was thrilled to be working on her presidential campaign.

Being a workaholic had always been an advantage in my business, and today was no exception. I met the staff, began to get my office organized, and plotted out my schedule for the next several days. I didn't see Hillary again that day, but I was disturbed at how often she invaded my thoughts - that brilliant smile, those deep, dark eyes, and her warm touch. I had to keep shaking off the memory and telling myself to focus on work.

I told myself this would pass. I'm no kid to get caught up by an adolescent infatuation. But that night I kept dreaming of her and waking to find myself reaching out for...nobody. What the hell was wrong with me?

I had planned to spend the week connecting with key players in and around New York, beginning to set up more fundraising, coordinating a media campaign, the usual early stage campaign stuff. But about 5am I was awakened by a call informing me we were catching a plane to New Hampshire.

This wasn't too surprising. The Iowa and New Hampshire caucuses kicked off every presidential campaign. Although the sparsely populated states had few electoral votes, they were symbolically important. Doing well in the beginning sent a positive signal, and every candidate would be spending time in these two states in the days ahead.

The campaign staff were still being hired – in fact that was one of my jobs – so we were going to New Hampshire with just a small crew - myself, Hillary, and a couple of assistants to handle phone calls and travel details. The day was a whirlwind, seven stops in 12 hours, hundreds of hands to shake, interviews with half a dozen small papers and two radio shows. We got back to the hotel, and we were all beat. Marsha and Gail announced they were going to their room to crash and would see us in the morning. We had a 5am wakeup call. Hillary said she was going for a swim in the hotel pool and asked me to join her so we could talk about the campaign. I was exhausted, but she was the boss, and we did need some time to plan strategy. The hotel gift shop was closed, but I called the front desk, and they were able to set me up with a bathing suit – I hadn't planned on doing any swimming.

I got to the pool first, and was pleased to find it empty. Not a surprise, as it was pretty late, but I wasn't in the mood to put on a happy face for the public. I called room service and had them bring a bottle of champagne to the pool. Hillary walked in just as I hung up, wrapped in a fluffy white robe from her room. She dropped the robe on a chair and slipped into the water. I was stunned for the second time in as many days. Hillary was wearing a pretty demure one-piece suit, but it didn't hide much. She was gorgeous! All those stuffy business suits had disguised a killer body. Slim, shapely legs, a flat tummy, a nice round little butt and full breasts that were amazingly firm for a woman her age. I realized I was staring and dove into the water to hide my blush.

I swam a couple of laps in the warm water while Hillary just floated and splashed around, trying to relax after the long day. The champagne arrived and I waded over to the side to sign for it. Hillary smiled at me and said, "Oh, perfect! I love champagne!" God, that smile made we weak in the knees. What the hell was wrong with me? I poured her a glass, lifted my own, and said "To the next President."

"Oh, no," she answered, "that's bad luck. How about – to new friends."

"New friends," I replied. We drained our glasses and I poured another round.

"Better watch out," Hillary said, moving closer to me. "I get silly when I drink champagne." She giggled. A sound I never expected to come out of that mouth, but I found it completely adorable.

"That's all right," I answered. "I'm silly all the time." We both laughed, and the tension of the day began to ease away.

After just two glasses each, the bottle was empty. I suggested another, and Hillary agreed.

"Please have them bring it up to the room," she said. "I'm getting cold." She climbed out and toweled off. I spent a few moments admiring her figure again before she covered it with the fluffy robe.

It was late at night in New Hampshire, and it was getting a little chilly. I shivered a little in the elevator, and a look of concern came over Hillary's face. The doors opened right in front of her room, and she invited me in.

"We need to warm you up," she said. "Can't have you getting sick at the start of the campaign."

Just then room service arrived and I took care of the waiter while Hillary went to the bedroom. She came back with a couple of towels and a blanket.

"Here," she said. "Get out of that wet suit and pour us some more champagne while I go change." She vanished back into the bedroom. I stripped off the sopping bathing suit, dried myself off and wrapped myself in the blanket. Better, but still a little cold. I poured the champagne and handed Hillary a glass when she came back into the room, still in the fluffy white robe.

We both sat on the love seat in the suite's small front room and sipped our champagne. I felt a little ridiculous wrapped in a blanket with nothing underneath, but exhaustion and champagne combined to alleviate my nervousness. Hillary leaned forward to pour another glass and her robe gaped open at the top, showing enough cleavage for me to realize she had taken off her bathing suit and had nothing on underneath. She turned to hand me the glass and caught me staring. I blushed and she smiled.

"Why John," she said, "I do believe you're blushing." She laughed that warm laugh I was learning to love so much.

"I'm sorry ma'am..." I stuttered, but she held up her hand.

"Ma'am? I thought we took care of that. It's Hillary. And I may be a Senator, but I'm still woman enough to appreciate it when a man looks at me." She crossed her legs and the robe opened up to her thighs. I couldn't keep my eyes away. She straightened her legs and ran one hand down and back.

"Not too bad for an old lady, huh?" she laughed.

"Not bad at all," I answered. "And I wouldn't call you old. Any man..." I was interrupted by a violent shiver.

"Oh John," she said with a look of concern. "We have to warm you up. Come on." She pulled me out of the chair by the hand and dragged me toward the bathroom. Cranking up the hot water in the shower, she tugged at my blanket. I resisted, but she said "Come on John, this is no time to be shy." I dropped the towel and she pushed me into the shower. The hot water felt great, but I felt suddenly weak and sagged against the wall. Suddenly Hillary was in the shower with me, her arms around me holding me up. I wondered idly where the robe had gone. Part of my brain was astounded that this beautiful and famous woman was in the shower naked with me, but I was too weak and feverish to care.

Hillary supported me, turning me this way and that so the hot water would warm me all over. I felt the press of her breasts against my back, then my chest, and part of me noticed the water streaming over her back, her tight little butt and the small bush between her legs. I couldn't help the erection, and it would have been pretty hard for her not to notice. She took it in one hand.

"Well, John," she said. "I guess you're not going to die yet."

She turned off the water and rubbed me briskly with the towel, quickly drying herself as well, then pulled me toward the bedroom. Pulling back the covers, she pushed me into the bed, climbed in next to me and pulled the blankets over us. As her body heat warmed me, the shivering slowly subsided, and I began to feel warm and relaxed, and very very aroused. I lay on my back, with Hillary snuggled up next to me, her arm over my chest and one leg across mine. Her arm and leg moved slowly over my body, and her hips began moving slightly with a familiar urgency.

"John," she said with a husky voice. "Are you sleepy?"

"Um, no, not really," I replied.

"Good," she said, and pulled me into a fierce kiss. Her lips and tongue never stopped moving. It was as if she had been starved for kisses for a long time. More than kisses.

Hillary rolled on top of me and continued kissing me. Her hands twined in my hair and pulled me eagerly to her. Her breasts pressed into my chest and her knees were on either side of my waist. She kissed my neck and my chest, then slowly drifted down, her nipples lightly grazing my chest and belly and her lips exploring my body. My erection felt achingly huge as her mouth moved teasingly closer, then away again. Her tongue flicked out and licked my thighs, my navel and my belly. I felt precum oozing from my aching member. Suddenly Hillary's warm mouth engulfed my cock. The sensation was indescribable. Her tongue slid wetly around my shaft as her mouth moved slowly up and down. One of Hillary's hands followed her mouth, stroking me up and down. The other hand slid around my balls, stroking and tickling them.

I began lifting my hips to push myself deeper into her mouth. She moaned and took it all eagerly. My hands stroked her back, her hair and her shoulders, touching her everywhere I could reach. I was overcome with the most lustful feelings I had ever experienced. I wanted to touch her everywhere, fill her, possess her, take her again and again,

Hillary responded to my urgent motions and turned her body parallel to mine. Her mouth and hands still sliding up and down my raging hard-on, she slid one leg over my chest, straddling me. Her little bush was inches from my face. Its musky aroma was intoxicating. I grabbed her ass with both hands and pulled her closer, burying my face in her moist snatch. The softness of her bush, the fragrance of her wet pussy, were irresistible. I licked from her clit to the base of her pussy and back again. I nibbled the soft folds of her labia. My tongue circled her clit and I pulled at it with my lips. She began making little strangled sounds and pushing her pussy harder into my face. Hillary's clit was hot and swollen to twice its previous size. I flicked my tongue over it rapidly, my fingers now stroking the sides of her cunt. She was dripping with love juices.

The taste of Hillary's juices was driving me wild, and I pumped my huge swollen cock harder into her mouth as she ground her pussy into my face, her fingers urging my balls to empty their load into her. My fingers were now sliding in and out of her wet swollen pussy as my lips pulled and sucked at her aching clit. Suddenly I couldn't take it any more. I erupted in a huge orgasm, my cum shooting into her like a fire hose. Hillary screamed and shook in the throes of her own powerful orgasm, her lips clamped firmly on my cock as her pussy throbbed and shuddered in my face. I poured one stream after another into her mouth while she valiantly tried to swallow it all. A little cum overflowed and ran down her chin.

Shuddering once more, Hillary slid off of me and turned to lie next to me again, her head on my shoulder. I put my arms around her and lay there dazed and astounded. I turned my head and she kissed me. With one finger I wiped the cum off her chin and she caught my finger with her mouth, sucking it off and giggling.

"Wouldn't want to waste any," she said, snuggling back into my neck. Hillary put one arm on my cock and sighed.

"That was incredible," she said. "Do you always come so much?"

"No, not always," I answered. "Just when I'm extremely turned on."

"She giggled again. "Then I'll take it as a compliment. How are you feeling? Do you need to sleep?"

I was exhausted, but at that moment, I didn't care if I ever slept again.

"No, I'm fine. You?"

"I'm great," she said with a laugh. "You seem to be feeling better." Her hand slid up and down my stiffening cock.

It was true. Whatever I'd been feeling before, it was gone. Guess she burned it out of me. And what her hand was doing felt...wonderful.

Hillary dipped her head and took my cock in her mouth again. It quickly rose to full size and she pulled her head away, then climbed on top of me. She sat astride me and I was awed at her beauty. Small, but perfect. My hands ran over her hips, up her little waist and cupped her surprisingly full breasts. She sighed and placed her hands over mine, pressing them into her breasts. I felt her nipples harden under my hands and I pulled her down to me, my lips finding a nipple. Hillary moaned and arched her back. Her hand reached down and found my straining cock. Lifting her hips, she guided me into her steaming snatch and impaled herself on my cock.

"Yesss," she said softly. "That feels so good."

Hillary lifted her hips and slowly lowered herself again, then again. She put her hands on my shoulders and pushed down, taking me in even deeper. I lifted my hands to her hips but she pushed them away.

"Just lie still," she said.

I let me hands drop to the bed and I lay there, focused intently on the feeling of Hillary's hot cunt sliding up and down my cock. She was incredibly tight, and the sensation was incredible. Her beautiful breasts bobbed in my face with each stroke. She bit her lower lip in concentration and began moving faster, a guttural "Ugh, ugh" coming from her throat at each stroke. Pushing against my chest, she raised herself almost upright, bouncing up and down now, almost coming free of my cock on the upstroke.

"Yes, yes, yes," she moaned. "Oh my God, Oh my FUCKING God. YES YES YES" She screamed and thrashed wildly, her hair flying in my face and her tits bouncing against my chest. She collapsed on top of me, her lungs heaving, sweat dripping from her face. I put my arms around her. Her breathing slowed gradually.

"Holy Jesus," she said. "I guess I needed that." She slid one hand down between my legs and felt my cock where it was still impaling her swollen cunt. She took my cock in her hand as she pulled herself free of me with a gasp. She shuddered with another small orgasm.

"Oh my God" she said, her hand stroking me. "I guess we need to take care of you, you poor thing. But my pussy is all worn out for now."

My cock felt enormous in her hand as she stroked it up and down. She held it firmly as she lifted her self and gave me a long deep kiss. Her tongue still in my mouth, Hillary lowered herself again until the tip of my cock was just below the base of her pussy. She lifted her face, and I saw her bite her lower lip again, her eyes closed, as she guided my cock into her waiting asshole. I felt resistance and she kept pushing down. Her asshole opened slowly as she took me inside, the warm walls closing back around my shaft as I penetrated. With a moan, she pushed herself all the way down, taking my entire length inside her.

I have never been so out of my head with a woman. Like most American men, I had admired Hillary and fantasized about her from afar, but I couldn't come to grips with the reality. She was not only even more beautiful in person, and far more sexy, she was an incredibly skilled and passionate lover. Hillary Clinton, every man's fantasy, had sucked my cock, fucked me silly, and was now begging me to fuck her in the ass.

"Harder, John. Please, harder, harder." She shoved herself down against me with a grunt, slid back up and plunged down again, taking my whole huge cock deep into her ass. I lost it. Grabbing her hips, I began pounding into her, lifting her off the bed with each stroke,

"God, yes, that's it," she screamed. "Yes! Fuck me! Fuck my ass! Fuck my ass with your big cock! Fuck me! Fuck me! FUCK ME!! OH FUCK!!!"

I let out an incoherent roar and bucked so hard she almost flew off. Hilary let out a ragged scream as a shattering orgasm swept over her and my cum exploded into her hot asshole. I lifted my hips over and over, watching her bounce above me, her beautiful tits flying in the air and back down, her face twisted in ecstasy. Hot cum spilled back over my cock and Hillary collapsed on my chest, both of us gasping for breath.

The bedside phone rang. I grabbed it and heard Marsha's voice, "We have breakfast with the governor in thirty minutes. Coffee for two is on the way." I hung up and turned to Hillary. She kissed me and we both laughed.

*

I hope you enjoyed reading this almost as much as I enjoyed living it. If you'd like to hear more, please let me know. A vote showing your approval would be appreciated.