HOM to the Chief

It is late, late at night now. Late, after hours spent watching election news coverage. Late, after the election results came in which put him over the top. Late, after the cheering crowd in Grant Park, and the victory speech. Late. They've come so far, and now this historic milestone at last.

Now she is alone with him in the room, standing there with him next to the bed. He has loosened his tie. He turns his head to one side and in a quiet but strong voice he mutters, "Michelle, I need to be shut up."

"Okay, honey." She knows exactly what to do at a moment like this, she knows how badly he wants it. She fastens the palm of her right hand, her big soft strong dark long nailed hand, oh so very very firmly over his mouth. She holds his mouth tight.

"Mmmmmmhhh... Hmmm'mmmmm, mmmmm mmmmmmmmh... Mmmmmmmmm..." His eyes are closed now. He makes muffled noises from beneath her hand. He slowly turns his head back and forth, back and forth, from side to side. "Mmmmmmmmh, hhhmmmmmmm..." He loves to make these noises with her hand over his mouth. This man who is ordinarily the most eloquent and articulate of men loves it when she reduces him to inarticulate groaning.

She can feel him stretching and straining his jaw beneath the firm grip of her hand, as if he's struggling in vain to get his mouth open. She can feel him trembling, trembling with the deep deep emotional release he experiences when she holds her hand clamped over his mouth. His eyes are still closed, now again he goes, "Mmmmmmmmhhh... Mmmm wwmmmm HHHMMMMMM! MMMMMMMMM!!" Wild stifled animalistic barking noises, the profound release of trying to speak, only he can't because of her beautiful hand over his mouth!!!

All the news coverage, everything they report about him in the news media, she thinks; and nobody has ever suspected this quirky little secret of his, this kinky little practice which is a secret between him and her alone.

She smiles at him. "Well, Mr. President... what do you have to say for yourself now?"

Barack Obama opens his eyes halfway, his eyes with their look of dreamy bliss. He is still trembling, and from beneath Michelle's soft but firm hand he goes, "Hhmmmmmmmmm... hhhmmmmmm..."


What if... the President-elect of the United States is actually one of us? MMMMMMMMMHHH!!