Kellyanne Meets the Congressional Black Caucus; [M(x58)F][buk][gang][oral][huml][painal][nc][celeb]

I genuinely hope this story offends you.

-Love
Starla

****

“‘Help Wanted: Tremendously Influential Politician seeking Experienced Heel. (Also, some experience in childcare)’ That’s what the advertisement read,” the aged blonde spoke to the mirror. This job was aging her rapidly, more so than she ever could have predicted. Every day, her boss sent her out in a ball and chain, on camera, for the media vultures to pry apart. Figuratively, of course. “‘I want to make you famous,’ he said. ‘You’ll be a star…’” She applied gaudy makeup to her mirthless, worn face, blowing deadpan kisses at herself.

When she came into work that morning, and everyone gave her mournful looks as if she were a cattle marching into the slaughterhouse, everything in her told her to run, and go back home. She needed this job; her family had grown used to the high life, and this job could provide that. “Evil delivered with a sweet, loving smile,” had rarely ever been seen so perfectly done outside of movies and other fiction. She was indeed a marvel of nature.

Donny wasn’t at his desk, when she entered the oval office. The room was empty, dark, and a little chilly. In fact, it was very cold; the windows were open. She rushed over to close them immediately. The chill she felt was enough to make her mature, yet still perky nipples show through her blouse. That’s about when she felt a small, tiny, baby hand on her pussy.

“Please, no,” she said, with a sigh. “Cut it out, Mr. President.” The portly, older gentleman was hiding beneath the desk, his hand extended, just to grope and fondle her womanhood. He didn’t stop. He reached up to her pubic bone, digging his miniscule fingertips in, to drag her back towards the desk.

A second hand, still no larger than the first, reached up under her skirt and tore her out of her panties. She resigned herself to his touch, with another sigh, as she rummaged through the desk drawer. She dangled a golden pacifier down below in front of him.

He inhaled deeply before he spoke. “Wrong.” He paddled her buttocks with his palm, until she took it away. Next, she lowered a rattle filled with bits of diamond, shaking it in front of his face. He reached for it, and almost grabbed it, but came to his senses. “Wrong!” He spanked her harder, and her knees were buckling now. She dropped the rattle onto the floor, in front of him, and the surly man seized it immediately, and rammed it up against her asshole.

“Mr. President, that will never work,” she explained.

“Yes it will! I’ll make it work! It has to work, because I’m the president!” He dragged her down to the ground, on her knees, and bent her forward so that her ass and pussy were right there in his face. With his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, he began to force her asshole open, little by little, with the rattle. Lo and behold, *it was working.*

“Wait, hold on, Mr. President, don’t put that in there, please,” she started pleading, as she felt her asshole gaping. “At least lube it!”

“Lube is for faggots,” he said, giving a steady shove. She screamed in pain, shattering her nails along the carpet as she dragged her hands across. “Wait, I forget. Do we hate faggots now, or no?”

“Mr. President, please!” Her insides were on fire now, pain searing her spine, and encompassing all of her mind and body in panic. 6 inches of dilation, at the widest, entering her slowly, and abrasively. Once it was in, however, her face returned to its normal, half-disinterested face. “Not again…”

There was a knock at the door. “Ah, shit. Forgot. Apparently, we have work today. Who knew?”

58 of the biggest, blackest, darkest, midnighty-est black men in suits filed into the office, barely fitting through the door frames, from their broad shoulders, and bald heads. Kellyanne inched her way from behind the desk, over to one of the couches, refusing to let them see the rattle stuck in her ass, although every step she made sounded like a handful of diamonds shaking. She couldn’t quite sit down correctly, so she ended up sitting down on her folded legs, her thighs spread apart to relieve the pressure of her insertion. I mean, can we really blame the woman for getting caught at such a bad time?

“Hol’ up,” the leader among them spoke. “Why dis bitch sittin’ like dis, wit dem big ass titties pokin’ out? And are those ripped panties in the corner?” Donny continued to hide beneath the desk, leaving Kellyanne to worm her own way out of it. She searched her heart for some alternative facts to share.

“The president just stepped out. I’m here to entertain you, until he returns,” she said, folding her hands politely in her lap. “I’m Kellyanne.”

“My name DaQuan,” he said. “Shit, niggas, I came here to talk about actual issues, an’ shit, but if you’re here to entertain us…”

“Wait, no, not like that—” she started, but it was too late. The rapacious animals were on her in a second. Their hands were *massive.* She felt like they were pulling her apart, as they ripped into her blouse. Still, she remained where she was, on her knees, hiding her rattle, like a good girl.

She serviced them, three at a time, sucking, stroking, spitting, and swallowing. Her technique was a thing of beauty to see, indeed. She would lather up their entire length with her tongue, sloppily, uncaring if she washed her own make-up in her cummy saliva. They blowbanged her from every direction, even forcing her head back, and fucking her throat upside down at one point. One by one, all 58 of the giant, inhuman, donkey sized 11-inchers had left their sperm all over her, and all over the couch. She wasn’t in a coating of warm liquid, from head to toe; she was encased in a fucking web, and she didn’t enjoy a second of it. She answered every cumshot with a tactless, “Thank you, nigger” before his friend would cycle in and fuck her throat raw some more.

One of them was a gay man, who said “I don’t like women, but you’re the president’s mouthpiece,” he said, as he grabbed her sticky hair and forced her mouth against his asshole. “That’s what I think of your boss.”

“Hey!” Donny finally came out of hiding, pointing his hand at the gay man. “I let 57 niggers use my bitch, but I’ll be damned if I let a faggot nigger use her! I draw the line right there!”

“Motherfucker,” he replied, forcing Kellyanne’s tongue even deeper. “Haven’t you heard of civil rights? This bitch can get face raped by as many niggers and faggots as she can handle.”

“Didn’t you see the sign,” Donny said. “No faggots. No wetbacks. No beaners. No ragheads. No chinks, especially none of those.”

“Why’d you leave out black people,” Kellyanne asked, with her moment of breath. This time, someone shoved her head in from behind.

“Because niggers are fucking scary.” DaQuan pounded his friend’s fist, at this admission. “Am I wrong? Aren’t you guys even afraid of yourselves?”

One of the nameless members spoke up. “Yeah, Tyrell, if I met you in a dark alley, I’d grab my wallet, and clench my ass cheeks, that’s for *damn* sure.” The room erupted into laughter, the cleansing kind, where tears flow freely, and everyone can take a moment of genuine relaxation. Except Kellyanne. She was still eating ass.

All 58 of them went for another round, covering the lacework of dried, crusty spunk over with a fresh layer. Quiet tears in her eyes, she waited until the office emptied out, before just screaming at the top of her lungs. There was another knock at the door.

Milo peered into the office, looking at the mess that used to be Kellyanne. “Damn! I missed the black guys!”

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/605eyo/kellyanne_meets_the_congressional_black_caucus