Ted Cruz: Stare Into My Soul

Politics | therivalstaff | March 1, 2016

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(Warning: the following piece contains graphic language. Just a heads up. -Editor)

Ted Cruz: Stare Into My Soul

“Ted?” I ask as I knock on the door of my boss’ campaign office.

I’ve been working on stapling fliers and shredding documents all day. It’s tiring work, especially for a woman with girly parts! It’s late now, and I’m tired and not sure if he’s still here. But suddenly, a voice as soothing as sandpaper rubbing against a cheese grater answers me:

“Yes? And I thought I told you to call me Mr. President.”

As I offer my condolences and step into his office, I notice that we’re alone. My heart rate increases as I close the door; I’ve been trying to get Ted alone with me for days… Something about his sunken, squashed face makes me wetter than the future tears of liberals when my guilty pleasure finally becomes the President of the United States. My heart’s still racing and sweat starts to bead on my face as I try to think of something I can say to fill the silence surrounding us when, suddenly, Ted’s voice breaks into my consciousness.

“Nice tits today, Shelby.”

Wow. Our future president gets right to the point.

I fire back flirtily, “You too.”

As I wink, President Cruz stands and unzips. I bite my lip with anticipation as he pulls out his lumpy, red cock. I gasp in shock because to my surprise it’s already as hard as his stance against gay marriage.

“Do you like what you see?” Ted asks as sensually as he can.


“Who am I kidding? You’re a woman. I don’t care what you think.”

As I bow my head and kneel on the ground in subservience to Ted, I lift my mouth up to receive him orally. He presses the tip of his penis against my lips for a long second, and as I am about to engulf his dick in my mouth, he suddenly pulls away. A look of sorrow washes across his face, and he sits back down in his office chair, cock still hard.

Dejected, I ask him, “Mr. President, I want to suck your dick so badly and make you happy… what’s wrong?”

The answer I receive reminds me of why I was so attracted to Teddy in the first place.

“You see, Shelby, I was raised a good Christian man, and this whole situation is making me think a lot about the vows I made to my wife on our wedding day. I vowed to that beautiful, blonde woman that I would never make love to another woman as long as we both shall live. Having said that, there is one way to bypass my promise to God and my wife: let me fuck you in the ass.”

My face lights up as I jump to my feet and happily proclaim, “Nothing would make me happier!”

I stride over semi-confidently to where President Cruz is seated, removing my silk top and bra on the way. I’m so nervous that I can’t remove my skirt on my own. I keep on fumbling at the zipper, but like an angel from above, Ted grabs my hands and places them on my sides. As he gives me his classic GOP debate camera stare, he pulls down my skirt and panties in one fell swoop. I think I’m in love.

“Ted…” I sigh.

“Mr. President,” he replies.

God, he is so strong-willed, and I’m so turned on.

“Mr. President. I want you to fuck my ass until it bleeds.”

He retorts, “As long as it’s not your disgusting period, that’s fine by me,” and flips me around while forcefully smashing his disfigured penis into my asshole.

I ride him, completely raw dog, for my country… the United States of America. My asshole begins to bleed as Ted humps me like a testosterone-injected canine. His short and oddly-angled thrusts are just what I expected and need from this man who I love so dearly. Finally, after three whole minutes of passionate anal sex, my powerful God, President Ted Cruz, cums in my butt. I hear a quick zipping of pants and The Lord’s Prayer being recited behind me. When I try to turn around, Ted moves behind me and pushes my lower back forward making me thrust out my derriere.

As he moves to leave, he swiftly smacks my ass with a pile of Goldman Sachs loans and his Canadian birth certificate, then whispers seductively in my ear: “Back to shredding, bitch.”