What are we looking at?Mature

Two bodies in antagonistic motion taking pleasure where they found it moved in the darkness.  The older man—gray furred chest, balding at the back, and no longer in prim shape—and the young woman—well maintained body, small breasts, and a smooth, even breath even aroused—made an odd couple with disparate ages.  The room was well appointed with a large, carved oak framed bed that—even under the athletic effort of the woman on top—did not creak or make sound beyond that of the mattress sighing and flexing.

They were close—he closer than she—when three military raps on the door made them freeze.

“Mister President, Sir?” boomed a voice through the door.

The President of the United States took a deep breath, trying to calm nerves that moments before were ready to let go, and spoke loudly.  “Give me a minute, John.  We’re not in a full out nuclear exchange, right?”

He laughed at his joke as the woman dismounted.

“No, sir.” John yelled.  “But, you’re going to want to see this as soon as possible.”

He frowned, wondering.  His partner gathered her clothes quickly and efficiently then left went into the dressing room in the suite and closed the door. 

The president put on a robe and opened the door.

“This better be good.” He told his administrative assistant. 

“It’s not, sir.  It’s very, very bad.” 

John handed him a glossy printout of the hole missing from the middle of Montana.

The End

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