“Are you shitting me?” President Doe asked. “They seriously want my fucking birth certificate?” He paused. “And these are humans you are talking about, adult human beings?”
“Yes, sir,” Linda replied.
“And you are saying the public cares about this?” President Doe’s face was red with anger as he paced around his desk in the oval office.
“It seems so, sir.” Linda wanted to leave it at that, but she knew she had to give him the worst of it. “Sir, there are articles this morning in the New York Times and Washington Post.”
The president stopped in his tracks, his face turned white and his mouth moved up and down, but no words were coming out. He sat down. He looked deeply into Linda’s eyes and said, “This is very disappointing.”
Months later, the press still reported nearly daily about the status of the president’s birth certificate. The implausible accusation became the birther movement, with its own Wikipedia page and a following of millions of people, called, not surprisingly, birthers. Polls regularly determined the percentage of Americans who believed the president was not a natural born citizen. President Doe refused to indulge the press or the public on the matter and never handed over his birth certificate. Theories about his birthplace became outlandish, and you could even place bets in Las Vegas.
“Honey, why not simply give your birth certificate to the media?” First Lady Jane Doe asked.
“Because if I did, there would be some other scandal, some other gossip. As it stands, this story seems to satisfy the morbid need of the public and the press to have human conflict and drama. Who knows what would take its place if the matter got resolved? No, I’ll let them continue to ponder my unknown origins.” The president smiled at his wife. President Doe no longer cringed at the mention of his birth certificate, and felt amused when he watched experts with degrees from Harvard, Brown, and other prestigious institutions seriously, and quite sincerely, debate whether a sitting president had been born somewhere other than the United States.
There was a second, and more important benefit to the birther debate. It kept people distracted, particularly the type of people who would otherwise interfere with the significant progress President Doe was making toward assuring medical care to every person residing in America. This was hugely important to President Doe, and he fought every day to convince members of the Senate and the House that it was a fundamental human right to have health care in a country that possessed nearly one-quarter of the worlds wealth. Actually, President Doe felt the entire world population deserved health care, but one step at a time. Despite the progress, there were many days the president needed to run or exercise briskly to discharge the rage he felt at the impunity given to Congress while they deliberately confounded his efforts. It was a near daily ritual of calming and releasing emotions, and the only remedy that allowed him to continue working with the obstinate members of Congress and make universal healthcare a reality. President Doe had learned the shocking truth during his first year in office, that most of Congress was willing to let the poor die or remain disabled with whatever debilitating disease they were too decrepit to avoid.
The birther movement began to settle down, but not due to any boredom over the issue, more because the public had found a better and newer drama. President Doe felt that dialogue would be the best method for improving world relations, however, the elitist society that remained outside the public eye didn’t see it that way.
“Sir, you simply cannot speak to the leader of North Korea,” Secretary of State Freddie Katz stated.
“Why not? Nothing else has worked. How better to establish good relations with the dictator than to have clear and direct communication? Do you honestly feel that by having a dialogue, we’ll harm the chance of reaching an accord?” President Doe was shocked that his Secretary of State had fallen victim to the intimidation and pressure applied by outside interests.
“Sir, I’m worried not only about your second term but also about the support that members in the Senate and House will lose if you continue down this path.”
Are you telling me that we’re being blackmailed?”
“Yes, that is precisely what I am stating. The financial contributions from our supporters will be greatly diminished, and we’ll lose seats in both the Senate and the House. That means we will lose votes on every matter that’s important to you.” Secretary Katz replied. The president was infuriated, and at the same time, he knew that it was true. There could be no denying the small group of wealthy individuals who contributed more than half the campaign funding needed by elected officials. Why the public didn’t force Congress to enact campaign contribution laws was beyond him, but they hadn’t, and, most likely, they expected their elected officials to do what was right for them. Unfortunately, the people getting elected couldn’t do what was right for the public and expect to remain in office. Another of the dirty little political secrets nobody was willing to address. The president decided to take a stand.
“I’m going to the meeting.” President Doe looked at Secretary Katz, and the secretary could see there would be no changing the president’s mind. Not today anyway. “Yes sir,” is all Secretary Katz said, and then he moved on to the more pressing matter of a border wall.
That night the president had dinner with his children, he loved family gatherings. His daughter told him how proud she was that he had taken a stand on the meeting with the Korean leader. His sons both agreed. How else could progress between two nations occur? They discussed the lack of support he would get in Congress and the fact that the press hated him and would report on his attempts at communication with the North Korean leader as immature politics. The status quo was deeply committed to the belief that all other nations must come begging to America; otherwise, the world should be turned against them. President Doe despised this tactic and felt every culture deserved to preserve its way of leading its people.
President Doe’s daughter spoke up, “Dad, I agree with you that we should communicate with other countries, even when we disagree on policy. However, some leaders persecute and deny basic human rights to their citizens. You cannot condone that behavior by stating that every country should have the right to open dialogue.”
“Sweetie, you’re right, but if we speak to them before preaching at them, perhaps we can help them to feel more secure about their role in the world. Perhaps they’ll allow more of the free press to enter their country. The only way that a dictatorship or authoritarian regime can truly end is when its people rise up and decide they’ll no longer tolerate it. There’s no panacea, and there’s no reason for one leader to change their ways simply because a bullying country wants them to. Our only hope is for the people of the country to become educated enough to make fundamental changes to their society and political structure, and we must be realistic that it could take generations,” the doting father and president replied.
The president’s son added, “Whenever there’s a change in the cultural values of humans, the magnitude of which has never approached what we’ve seen over the past hundred years, it takes a few generations to see the results. For most of history, the evolved societies simply took over geographical and cultural areas of the world, and that was that. But now, we’ve come to a state of human evolution where physical domination is unacceptable. Education and awareness are taking its place, and that causes people to understand they have value, they have a right to freedom and choice. This will soon change every society and nation on earth. With the technology that exists and the availability of unfiltered information on the Internet, people can see democracy in action, no matter what gets told to them through propaganda. I believe a few generations from now, most citizens of the world will demand the basic freedoms all humans deserve, and that’s how the authoritarian regimes will lose their foothold.”
“Well said, son, well said.” The president glowed with pride and then added, “In the meantime, it will benefit the people of the world to see that we Americans are willing to communicate to any other citizen of the world, and without placing our judgments about how their culture has evolved in the forefront.”
“That may be a bit romantic and unrealistic dear,” the First Lady observed.
“We must get ready for the election sir. You must begin to meet with major donors and party leaders,” Linda, the president’s most trusted and favorite aide stated.
“I understand, Linda. It just feels so ridiculous to devote time to such a formality. The party always supports the incumbent, right?”
“Not necessarily, sir, and equally important is the donor circuit. They want to tell you what they liked and didn’t like about your first term,” Linda replied. The president knew she was right.
When President Doe was a young boy, he dreamed about helping his country achieve greater prosperity, and he fantasized about how he would become president and make changes one day. He believed every human should have enough to eat, should have adequate shelter, and should have full access to medical care and education. These were obvious truths, and when he first took office, President Doe felt that his ability to mobilize people and organize effective policy would help him to accomplish these goals during his first term. The president hadn’t gone so far as to fantasize implementation in every part of the world, but he had been certain he could get it done in America. Not in his wildest dreams had he anticipated the obdurate ignorance that opposed these goals with such a ferocity that only gridlock existed in political reality. His mind wandered back to his youth. He was tired.
Linda watched the president as his face grew full of sadness. She knew how much he loved the people of his country, and how hard he fought for them. She loved this about President Doe. He began to look like a young boy to her, and she felt something stir inside. The feeling continued to grow as she looked upon the president, so concerned about so many, so humble and loving. He was a good father, a good man, the kind of man she hoped to marry one day. Linda had just finished celebrating her twenty-second birthday and had wondered the previous night how she would ever find a man as good as the president. She was fond of him, maybe too fond of him, and Linda suddenly found herself feeling uncontrollable urges inside her body.
The president breathed out, he feared there was no way to fight the system but secured his determination once again and committed to chipping away and getting as much done as he could. He dropped his gaze down from the ceiling to see Linda staring at him with an odd look in her eyes. Was it love or possibly lust? He couldn’t tell but noticed how beautiful she looked. She was a lovely young lady, and he enjoyed her greatly. Suddenly, he found himself thinking it had been months since he and the First Lady had slept together. He wasn’t sure of when he had allowed time for masturbation even. As a matter of fact, when was the last time he had cum? As a young man, he had ejaculated near daily, one way or the other. It was the healthy thing for a man to do. He gazed far away, and out of the corner of his eye noticed Linda adjust herself in her seat. She had beautiful legs, and she was wearing a blue dress that hugged her hips.
Linda felt she could no longer control herself, and something deep inside was taking over. She hadn’t had any physical intimacy for nearly a year; the job was too demanding. Her head began to swirl as she noticed the president looking at her with admiration. She had gone to the gym that morning and, while putting on her nylons, had ripped them, so she was wearing nothing underneath her dress. She had planned to go home during lunch and retrieve another pair, but right now, there was nothing underneath. Without thinking, she began to slowly part her legs, just a little.
The president watched as Linda’s expression changed to something he had never seen before. Her look wasn’t playful or sinister; it seemed defiant and daring. Then she parted her legs, and he noticed she wasn’t wearing any stockings. My God, he thought, was she wearing panties? He couldn’t help but stare directly between her legs; it was beyond his control, and he felt himself become much less than presidential.
Linda couldn’t believe how excited she felt, seeing the president lose control, seeing his breathing stop as he stared between her legs. She wanted him to see her, and parted her legs a little more, very slowly. Linda stared into the president’s eyes.
President Doe was somewhere far away from the oval office. Linda was very slowly spreading her legs. There was no way she could be doing this accidentally. President Doe couldn’t breathe as he waited to see if his beautiful, young aide would open her legs far enough to look between them, to see if she were wearing panties, and to see if she were shaved or hairy, the color and texture of her mound. Linda did part her legs far enough to see, and the president let out a gasp. She slowly moved her legs even further apart, and he could see her coifed muff and the delicate skin at the top of her thighs. Linda continued to keep her legs spread apart and moved down in the chair so that her hips were nearly off the edge of her seat, her dress hiked itself further up her body, and her mound was now completely exposed and moist. The president felt the animal inside himself taking over, then momentarily his senses came back to him, but he pushed them away. The president moved out of his chair and pressed his mouth to his young aide’s pussy. He heard Linda moan softly and then the animal went wild.
Linda left the oval office conflicted and panting for breath. The sex had been incredible, and desperately needed by both of them. She knew that. Linda had wanted to feel President Doe inside of her, but he had refused to have intercourse despite her pleading and begging. But he had made her climax hard, maybe the best orgasm of her life, and she had enjoyed sucking the president off and letting him cum all over her blue dress.
“Sir, the impeachment proceedings are beginning, would you like me to turn on the television?”
“Fuck no!” President Doe replied, and then, “I’m sorry, Alice, I’d rather not watch. Please send in Bob.”
“Yes, sir,” Alice said, and then the president’s private secretary shut the door to the oval office and left President John Doe to himself.
The president’s chief of staff entered a few moments later, “Good morning, sir.” The president looked up and glared.
“Really, Bob? What’s the status of things?” The president didn’t think it was a very good morning.
“The latest polling shows the majority of people continue to support you, sir,” Chief of Staff Bob Siemens answered.
“What are the numbers?”
“Sixty-eight percent in your favor.” The chief of staff replied.
The president sat with this information a moment. He had more support now than at any other time in his presidency. Even with the shitstorm over a fucking blue dress and the year of drama that ensued and led to the impeachment procedures. That was astounding, yet so far from being meaningful in any tangible way. Two years of his presidency were wasted. Two fucking years! Congress stalled on every one of his initiatives, donors wouldn’t commit, his party was hesitant, and his ability to lead had been destroyed. The birther thing, his unwillingness to terminate open communication with leaders from authoritarian countries, even his strange personality had never kept him from leading, but the blue dress had. Yet, more Americans approved of him than ever. How odd, it was surreal even, was humanity insane?
The Chief of Staff grew concerned, “Sir, that’s good news. I hope you know that. You’ll get reelected if the impeachment doesn’t go through, and it seems unlikely that it will. We just have to get through the next sixty days.” The president roused himself back to the present moment.
“Yes, I suppose it’s good news.”
The president wondered what new drama would unfold in a second term, and why he would choose to subject himself to a second term at all. Maybe it would be better to spend time with his wonderful wife, who had remained by his side despite the vulgarity of his penis and the blue dress it had violated, and the public humility she’d had to endure over the past year. And his children, how difficult it had been to look them in the eyes, or for them to deal with all that they had witnessed about their father, and in such chilling detail. And what had he accomplished for all this? Nothing. Fuck the public, he thought. Fuck them and let them deal with the next guy.