Whores Make Great Wives Pt. 05

Once their conversation was finished, Kennedy must have opened his wallet because he dropped three $100 bills on the floor between his legs, obviously a thanks for Jean's impromptu service. The two men chortled a bit and JFK pulled himself up by the desk edge, commented again on his bad back and the two men shook hands. As Kennedy turned to head for the door, Coffin called him back and pointed at his fly zipper which was unzipped.

"Ah yes, said Kennedy, we must not let the good worm see the light of day,"

They both laughed and JFK left.

Coffin pulled Jean by her high heels out from under the desk. He gave her a card on which he had written "Grove Press" and suggested she take her project to a publishing house more suited to sexual matters. Before allowing Jean to leave, he once more became uncontrollable and once more bent her back over his desk. This time he was sufficiently aroused to drop his pants, lift her short skirt and fuck her right on top of his desk. His paperwork afterwards bore the traces of her menstrual blood.

When he finished, he wiped his hooked cock with what remained of her lace panties and handed her a wad of bills. Knowing she would have to go out into the frigid air with her vagina bare, he joked, "Don't let Coffin's coffin get cold," a joke she didn't comprehend at that moment. Ge also cautioned her to say nothing of the sexual high jinks that had gone on as he hoped to keep the President's and his own indiscretions private.

She opened her Dior purse and dropped the green hundred dollar bills into it and remembered to bend forward to grab the water glass she'd left on the floor under the desk that contained JFK's sperm with a tinge of whiskey. His sperm, she confided in me, had a lovely smooth taste, like nectar, but that was only after a little taste.

One might think that this was the end of the story, but when President Kennedy was shot a few days later in Dallas, Texas by Oswald or whoever, all hell broke loose. And that was the problem, no one wanted to believe that Oswald was the shooter or if he was, did he act alone?

Of course they arrived at Scribner's and looking at the list of appointments that day they seemed quite concerned that a French authoress who had booked an appointment a half hour before Kennedy was not seen exiting until after Kennedy had left the building. That was clearly borne out by the secret service memorandum's timeline. The other thing they had caught onto was the fact that Coffin's set of crystal cut whiskey glasses was missing one glass. Why?

Coffin confirmed that fact that Jean had left late and said,

"That might seem strange but Jean Tormet was not a normal author and had wanted to be formally introduced to the President and if possible get a quick taste of his charm."

At some point that timeline detail was swept under the rug from the FBI report and from the Warren Commission Report as well. Of course, Coffin did not reveal that he'd had oral and vaginal sex, with Jean nor did he mention that his fraternity brother JFK had received a lovely full throated blow job from the noted French whore seated on her knees under the desk. As for the missing crystal scotch glass, he said simply,

"The missing glass? Oh, that was broken a few days ago and its shards thrown into the trash basket."

God knows how many FBI agents had scoured the Weehawken garbage dump for a week looking for the whiskey tumbler's shards that they never found.

Nonetheless a bevy of FBI agents, unsatisfied with their investigation descended on our vacation apartment on Park Avenue. The fact that the Doctor was from Dallas, Texas and that the assassination took place there seemed too much of a coincidence for the FBI to ignore.

Of course French sensibilities about sexual interplay of politicians are different then American who tend to keep such information secret. Jean felt no shame and she began to volunteered that there had been intimacy between herself and the two men. At that point the frog faced head investigator cleared the room of all other agents including myself.

In this private conversation Jean revealed that she'd had sex with Coffin and had blown the president as well. She made no mention of the glass of with JFK's sperm perfectly preserved by the little bit of whiskey that had danced across the top of the glass, and now packed in a cylinder of dry ice.

Later that afternoon Martha had arranged by long distance telephone calls, for us to trade the sperm for a condo overlooking the Hudson River at 64th st. Of course this was a big secret and I cannot mention the name of the buyer, who was a famous construction mogul, fearful of passing on his family's bad genes that included mental illness. He is said to have used it to father his eldest son, some ten years later in the willing cervix of his glamorous Eastern European wife who was unaware of the insemination, being told it was only a beauty treatment. That successful fertilization produced a healthy son, the only living male descendant of the late and great President John F. Kennedy and a rising power within the Republican Party.

Of the three FBI agents who interviewed Jean and myself, the lead investigator after hearing the intimate details, at first refused to believe she was innocent and was convinced she was a KGB spy. Only when she knelt before him and unzipped his fly and blew him with the professional precision of a practiced French whore did he believe she was not a threat to America. There is something about that moment of tranquility that comes after a bout of professional fellatio, that seminal release, that allows logic to supplant doubt.

When I was allowed to re-enter the room after the questioning, I could see Jean's cheek was swollen with cum so knew she had been at work proving her innocence. She excused herself and used the bathroom, flushing the contents of the frog faced FBI interrogator down the toilet and spending a long time washing her hands and gargling.

"I didn't think there was much reason to save it," she whispered to me quietly,

"That old guy took forever, I had to stick two fingers up his wide ass hole to get his prostate to squirt."

Ironically this old frog face was actually Edgar J. Hoover, who gave secret testimony to the Warren Commission. But perhaps Jean was correct, one Hoover was enough and she did well to spit his seed into the toilet. The one thing that perplexed us about Hoover's questions was his continual probing for information about Kennedy's cock and he even wanted to know the texture of the President's balls and what they smelled like.

"A bit of talc and a floral perfume that she thought was '47-11,' said Jean.

When we learned later that FBI head Hoover was a closet gay, then all his penis questions began to make sense, he must have loved cock. This also explained why his ass hole was so wide and slack. The closet queen was taking it in the ass from his roommate for over forty years.

The contents of Hoover's interview and the information on Jean's sexual activity with both Coffin and JFK can now be verified in the newly released (November 2017) JFK assassination files made public recently by President Trump. Trump did however censure any mention of the missing tumbler that we know contained Kennedy's sperm. Nor is there any notation that Hoover himself was the subject of Jean's famous magic lips and digital manipulation. But the crystal cut whiskey glass that was the center of so much speculation has recently been spotted during a TV tour of the White House. It has been seen resting securely locked in a White House curio cabinet that contains various objects related to past president's children.

WARNING - Do not take the Doctor's advise on HGH (Human Growth Hormone) without discussing it in detail with your own physician. Certain negative aspects related to these treatments have recently been subject to its reassessment as a wonder drug.