Now,
a lot of this is top secret stuff, so I'm gonna have to be a little discreet. I
rather not disclose which president's daughter I accidentally titty fucked
twice, so I'm gonna purposely be vague about the time period. I'll do my best
not to give anything away. It's a matter of national security, maybe.
At
some point during my career as a world renown clinical psychologist and
intimacy expert, I was invited to have dinner at the white house. And let me
tell you, it was quite a special occasion. My wife at the time, which I won't
name, adhering to my need to be discreet about the time period, was very proud
of me.
When
I arrived in Washington, I went straight to the hotel. Compliments of the
president, I was given a room at one of
the finest, most prestigious hotels in the area. There in the room, I
discovered a tux hanging on my bedroom door. The dinner was to be that very
night, so I got a shower and dressed and was ready to go. Also compliments of
the president, I had my own personal limo, which picked me up at the airport
and when it was time to leave, took me to the white house.
When
I arrived at the white house I was amazed by all the elegance. And also by all
the other people invited to dine with the president. I have to admit, I
thought, perhaps romantically, that it would be a somewhat intimate affair.
Unfortunately, I was wrong. It was grand. And I was a bit lost in the sea of
shimmering dresses and sparkling jewelry and any other means of advertising
ones wealth. Far too wealthy for my usual crowd.
It
stood to reason, if I was invited to this gala than certainly there should be
other members of the academia present. I didn't recognize one.
I
really wasn't sure what to do or how to keep busy. I was starting to wish
they'd just start dinner so I could be done with the whole thing.
Somewhat
nervous, I eventually found refuge on the outskirts of the crowded hall. There,
I could remain even more anonymous than I already felt and quietly sip my wine.
While I stood there, however, I was approached by a young woman.
The
young woman was extremely beautiful. She was dressed in a long black gown. Her
hair and makeup were like a movie star's. And her breasts, which were quite
enormous, dominated the shape of her upper frame and formed a long line of
cleavage, which there didn't seem to be any way of hiding in such formal
attire. If I had to guess, I would put her age around 20-25.
"Hello,"
she said, somewhat nervously.
"Hello,"
I said.
"Aren't
you Dr. Mosely Untreu?"
"Yes."
"We've
been reading some of your work at school. I find it fascinating."
"Thank
you."
"I'm
Chloe," she said, though it is an alias for the sake of this story. In
actuality, she gave me her real name but I hadn't a clue it was the same name
as the president's daughters, since I never knew the president's daughters'
names.
In
preparation for this event, it's true, I had planned to study the names and
faces of those who most likely to attend the dinner: ie, the first family,
prominent cabinet members, prominent politicians. However, such intentions were
lost, in favor of doodling on the computer and last minute packing for the
trip.
"Hello,
Chloe," I said, as polite as could be.
"I'm
sure you absolutely hate it when people do this," Chloe continued.
"But I'd really like to pick your brain about a few things."
"All
right."
"First,
let's find a quiet place."
"All
right."
The
young woman led me through a series of doors and hallways until we ended up in
a large bedroom. I looked around, a little curious as to whose room it was.
However, after a few spinning glances, I saw nothing that might personalize the
room. Regardless, I said nothing.
Chloe
sat down on the bed.
I
stood.
"Why
don't you sit down?" she asked and smiled, a bit unsure.
"I
rather stand," I said, still holding my glass of wine. I set it on the computer
desk. I noticed there wasn't even anything on the desk to personalize it, as if
it could easily pass for a hotel computer desk. I surmised this must be a guest
room, though it seemed themed for a girl, with the large canopy bed and pink
motif.
"Sit.
Please," Chloe asked again, somewhere in the neighborhood of pleading.
"All
right." I sat down a few feet away from her.
"Only
because I feel awkward if you don't," she added. "With a bosom like
mine, I'm always self-conscious when someone's head level is above mine. Just a
quirk of mine."
"I
understand."
"And
I simply can't stand up for another second. Not with these shoes. Speaking of
which, I'm sorry but I must insist I take them off," Chloe said as she
peeled her shoes off and set them on the floor.
"That's
fine. Now, what did you want to discuss?"
There
was a short pause, as she rubbed her feet. "Well, as I'm sure you've
noticed. How could you miss them? I'm certain they're the first thing everyone
sees when they look at me. Of course I'm talking about my enormous bosom."
"Yes,
I've noticed." I smiled. "And I'm sure they're lovely."
"Thank
you."
"So,
what is it about them that you would like to discuss?"
Then
Chloe proceeded to slide her gown straps down her shoulders and let her gown
slowly fall free, buckling on her lap. Now, she was in a strapless black bra.
Her large, fluffy breasts were barely secured, as the bra hugged the young
woman tightly and her breasts even tighter.
"Do
you mind?" Chloe asked.
"No.
Whatever makes you feel comfortable."
"Well,
I would like it very much if you looked at them." Then she reached behind
to unfasten her bra, struggling at first, but then freeing her huge avalanche
of tits, which jiggled with her every movement, as her fully erect brown
nipples, which were quite large in their own right, fluttered about.
"Just
as I thought. They're very lovely," I said.
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