Monica’s Autobiography (II) Satisfying the President’s Sexual Desire (2)

I. Coincidence

The cessation of the federal government was an extremely important event in my dealings with Clinton.

During that week, because the staff of the Chief of General Staff’s office had been reduced to a minimum, part of the work previously handled by his aides had to be handled by the Chief of General Staff himself, and the other part was given to me, and my office was moved from the Foreign Office to the Chief of General Staff’s office, where his secretary had worked.

I think the whole thing of stopping the office, although it was not deliberately arranged by Clinton for the further development of our relationship, he knew very well that it was a rare opportunity. Because at that time the entire White House staff had never been less, the large White House, seemed empty.

If someone does something in there, he or she is seldom seen by others. On the other hand, except for urgent work that needs to be dealt with, most of the staff do not have to observe the working hours as strictly as in the past, and it is not uncommon for them to take this opportunity to visit other offices or chat.

Clinton must have known very well in his mind that he could do something with this opportunity, but I, on the other hand, did not have any premonition about what was going to happen, and all I had was an anticipation, because I had become a member of the White House staff, and if destiny ordained that I must do something, then, sooner or later, that something was going to happen.

Before I talk about our real relationship, I would also like to continue to talk about the issue that I had mentioned earlier, which is the issue of Clinton’s sexuality. This issue, in my personal opinion, should not be without help for Clinton to finally become the President of the United States. In the direction of public opinion, it is straightly believed that Hillary has contributed to Clinton’s success in successfully navigating through the same issue after Hart withdrew from the presidential race due to a sex scandal and eventually ascended to the presidency. While I certainly don’t deny that Hillary’s efforts to garner votes in this matter were fruitful, I also believe that the most crucial reason for Clinton’s victory is not yet that, but that the American people have seen the importance of the president’s sexuality to a nation.

I vividly remember being a young college student when claims of an affair between Jennifer and presidential candidate Clinton hit the media. I think, at that time, my classmates and I already had our own opinions on many social issues and, at that time, we were at a very particular age where we usually had a hard time accepting other people’s viewpoints and were fixated on our own correctness.

Everywhere you went during that time, it was all about the presidential campaign and the sex scandals of the presidential candidates, and whether you opened a newspaper or turned on the TV, you could see the hot topics, and the whole of the American people’s lives were filled with these issues.

If, according to my personal thinking, Bush had lost his re-election chances before the campaign had even begun, I think that perhaps it was not necessarily Bush’s mistake, but the mistake in choice of the American people as a whole, who had trusted for too long in the old-eyed, for too long in the kind of men who had already lost their lives from their sexual prowess. This is indeed the mistake of the American people as a whole, but it is a mistake that was not deeply recognized at first, and it was not until the economy had deteriorated again and again, and people had already felt the impact of this deterioration on their own lives, that they began to consider the question: does the United States need an old man who is experienced but not capable? People may not always have the answer, but they are willing to try in some ways.

On the other hand, young Americans like me, who are probably more passionate about politics than economics, have always had a depressing sense of how difficult it is for young people to make their way in society. Although we have never figured out the real reason for this difficulty (in fact, it is impossible for us to figure out such a deep question), we think we have a very clear understanding of it, that is, our politics is too old, and the old-fashioned political atmosphere, together with some old-fashioned politicians with a group of similarly old-fashioned henchmen, how can we still expect such a political environment to What opportunities can we expect from such a political environment for young people who are preparing to enter society? All the opportunities are held by old people who are unlikely to contribute much to society.

Therefore, we are more hopeful that a young president will step up and save America.

Jennifer told reporters that she had a twelve-year sexual history with Clinton, an event that was truly explosive to those who still failed to think rationally about what was wrong with our society, while others, who had lived in an old man’s political circle for far too long, and who were not at all aware of society’s strong demand for change, believed that similar sex scandals would surely destroy a presidential candidate. So, within four days of the story breaking, thirteen of the nation’s twenty-five prominent barristers who had supported Clinton announced that they were withdrawing their support, and a number of media polls showed a significant drop in Clinton’s approval ratings All these signs seem to indicate that people are still walking around in the same fixed mindset that they had in the past, and don’t realize the error of their ways or the need for any change.

However, young voters are very aware of this.

I remember vividly how differently my classmates and I viewed the sex scandals about Clinton when we heard about them from those in the mass media, and for that reason that student group I was a member of held a special seminar on the topic of what kind of president we really needed.

It was at this seminar that a very radical student of mine gave a very provocative speech on the subject of sexual impulses and spiritual vitality. He believed that the existence of the libido impulse is a manifestation of vitality, and that we cannot expect a person who has lost the ability to make love to bring new changes to our society, because such people have no sense of novelty in life, no desire to pursue and creativity, and for them, the only desire is to maintain, to ensure that every morning when they wake up, they can still be as normal as the previous day. Breathing.

We may not want a president who brings everyone into a vortex of sexual promiscuity, of pornography and violence, but we don’t want an old man who is old-fashioned, and our politics need to be led by someone who is energetic and strong.

Finally, he also talked about Clinton’s sexuality, saying that he was glad to see a sexually aggressive person running for president of the United States, which was a sign that the United States would be more energetic and aggressive. And he strongly urged the people of the United States to pay attention to our own sexuality from now on, and to realize that sexuality is not an extremely personal or moral issue, but an extremely important social and philosophical issue.

This speech was met with extremely enthusiastic applause. Perhaps because of the influence of this student’s speech, or perhaps because people of our age are more likely to understand the issue of sexuality, there were hardly any dissenting voices at the entire seminar, and even those who were prepared to strongly condemn Clinton began to change their tone, saying that if Clinton had been more careful about controlling his sexual impulses or had been more honest in his sexuality, they would have been more receptive. accept some of that.

Those who hold this view also make special reference to Jennifer’s remarks at the end of a press conference in New York: “I hope that after twelve years he will have the courage to say, yes, I had a sexual relationship with this woman, it’s true, but it’s over now.” He said that even Jennifer herself accepted the idea that she wanted presidential candidate Clinton to be more honest about his private life and not try to deceive voters who supported him or were prepared to support him. The people may indeed be in great need of a president who still has a sex drive, but the people do not need a president who is good at cheating.

Of course, that brings us to another focal point, and that is the extent to which Jennifer’s presence was entirely of her own volition. The vast majority of people recognize that Hillary’s words are right, that the whole affair reeks of conspiracy, and that even if Jennifer really did have a twelve-year relationship with Clinton, as she has emphasized, she is now, without a doubt, being used as a gun, and that she is turning into a bullet that someone else is shooting at Clinton.

Although Jennifer made a series of confessions for herself, which she thought were justified, such as she thought that Clinton had betrayed and cheated her by denying their relationship; Clinton had become more and more distant for his political future, and even became not like the Clinton she knew at all; she felt humiliated by the revelation of Clinton’s women, and realized that she did not share a man with Hillary, but with many women at the same time, and she even took an AIDS test. She was humiliated by the revelation of Clinton’s women, which made her realize that she was not just sharing a man with Hillary, but with many women at the same time, for which she had even been tested for AIDS. Another reason that she found most convincing was that she felt that she and her family were being threatened, but was not able to specify the source of the threats. Because of these threats, she assumed that it was all about Clinton, never realizing that perhaps Clinton’s rivals were doing something to irritate her.

All in all, if you analyze those reasons carefully, you will find that none of them actually hold water. For one thing, it seems that the fact that Clinton had several women at the same time was very sympathetic to Jennifer. Then, a few years later, when Jennifer published “My Twelve Years with the President,” she had to admit to herself that while she was in the dark with Clinton, she was also having sexual relationships with other men who she just didn’t think were as good as Clinton.

What reason is there for a woman who is not faithful to her feelings herself to express anger at someone else’s unfaithfulness to her feelings? Isn’t the whole world a ridiculous joke when a thief blames another person for not being able to steal from another person?

I think the American people, past, present and future, will muse on the fact that they have chosen a few sexually active presidents, such as George Washington, the father of the United States, who was widely rumored to have had a mistress and an illegitimate child. George Washington, the father of the United States, was widely rumored to have kept mistresses and fathered illegitimate children. Washington’s wife had four children from her first marriage, but none from her marriage to Washington. According to a letter Washington wrote to a friend, which was later discovered, it was revealed that if his wife had died, he would have easily had his own children, and he would have married a “girl”. This “girl”

thought to be Washington’s mistress.

After stepping down from the presidency, Washington lived alone in his hometown and later died of pneumonia. His neighbors said that Washington had overworked himself by visiting his mistress in the rain at night, and that he had suffered from wind and cold before he contracted pneumonia.

The third president of the United States, Thomas Jefferson. Thomas Jefferson, the third president of the United States, was a president of the constant gossip, this kind of gossip even before he had not yet become the president of the world, some media even said: “If Jefferson becomes president, murder, robbery, rape, extramarital affairs and incest will be openly abetted, openly carried out. Rape, extramarital affairs and incest would be openly abetted and openly practiced. Cries of distress would fill the sky, and the blood of crime would saturate the land.” It was this president who drafted the First Amendment to the Constitution so that its bounty is still being enjoyed by the American people today.

Roosevelt, Kennedy, and now Clinton are the presidents of the United States who have made an outstanding contribution to American history, and who the American people have tried to choose as “sexually charged” presidents. They have proved to be so outstanding that their names are often mentioned not only by the American people, but also around the world. Other presidents, on the other hand, are forgotten almost as soon as they leave the White House, even by those close to them, and it is unlikely that anyone will recall what they did for the United States.

On the basis of this very special psychological sentiment, if Jennifer is really a Clinton competitor to the front, then the commander-in-chief has definitely made a big mistake, he should not use this method to prove Clinton’s sexuality and at the same time confirm his own sexual impotence. I think it is hard to imagine that this contender, if he can’t even see the importance of such an “American sentiment”, will make the people of the United States as stupid as that if he is elected.

On the other hand, I think I would feel sad for America as a whole, as well as sorry for what I have brought, or will bring, to American society, if, because of what happened between me and Clinton, the people of the American network re-corrected their view of the person who would govern them, and decided that it would be safer to elect a solid, non-sexualized president.

I am very pleased that according to media reports, Clinton’s approval ratings went up rather than down after some of him told the truth. If such polls are at all true, then it just goes to show that our people are beginning to mature, that they are beginning to realize what kind of a ruler America needs, and are also beginning to recognize the difference and connection between the ability to rule and the ability to be of the same sex, and that all citizens throughout the United States have the same rights in public affairs as they do in purely private matters. I venture to think that if this is so, we have a country that is equally promising, and not a dying, lifeless country that is ready to go back to the old ways of a few years ago.

It is because of these points that I personally believe that it is a very boring, but corroborating and necessary thing for us to discuss the sexuality of the President here.

One might think that by going to such great lengths to discuss the president’s sexuality before formally addressing my relationship with Clinton, I am really making excuses for what happened between Clinton and me. I think I would be equally sorry if anyone would really think that. What happened between me and Clinton is a known fact, the only issue is the details.

Because these details have not been conclusively confirmed by Clinton herself. I understand and support Clinton’s current approach because our people do not yet fully understand the impact that the issue of the president’s sexuality, which I have just discussed, has on each and every one of us, and this blurring of understanding will lead to a conceptual mix-up that Clinton will have to make if he wants to further his political ambitions. On the other hand, I hope that when Clinton leaves office someday, he will come out and confirm the issue of his sexuality and give history a true picture of it, instead of letting it become a hotly debated issue, as it has been with some of the best presidents of the land, which is clearly a waste of people’s resources and a bad decision that runs counter to his entire political philosophy.

Now, the facts that I am about to state, I sincerely hope that some day in the future they will be confirmed by Clinton, and that this will set a good trend in our country to make politics in the United States more transparent, more open, and more free and respectful of evidence.

II. Initial communication with the President

I now feel that it is much easier to write about what happened between me and Clinton than about what happened before that, because every event was recorded in detail when moving around the White House, and if one could not recall anything, the White House records, which were later made available by Starr Lightson, showed it clearly.

The day after the government ceased operations, November 15, 1995, which was a Wednesday.

My memory of this day is very clear, because it was the day when one of the most important events of my life took place, something that had happened before, but not like this one, because Clinton was so special in connection with it, that it made this day not only a part of my personal history, but of the history of the whole of the United States at the same time.

During this period, since all the people were not too busy, the work schedule was not too emphasized, especially for us interns, as long as we could finish our daily work, no one would think that you were not trying your best. On the first night, I think I chatted with my online friends so late that I woke up much later than usual the next day, so I stayed in my own apartment for the whole morning.

At 1:30 p.m., I arrived at the White House, which is very well documented.

When I got to my office, I cleared up the mail, etc., that I was supposed to take care of, and nothing in particular. I think I was in my office for about an hour, maybe a little longer. I don’t know what the reason was, but when I left, the White House did not record the exact time, which seems to indicate that the so-called strict administration of the White House is not, in fact, entirely infallible, and as I was leaving, I noticed that there was an informal birthday meal at dinner, and that this was the day of Jenifer, the special assistant to Chief of the General Staff, Mr. Parnett. Mr. Palmieri’s birthday. Also, there might be another special piece of correspondence coming from the White House in the course of the evening, and Mr. Parnett might have some work of some kind for me to do, so I came once more to the White House about five o’clock.

About a few minutes later Clinton came into the office of the Chief of the General Staff, and at that time, not being official working time, I, Parnett, and Ecker were in the office talking about something of less importance, and I suppose that was because we were all waiting for the dinner that was coming up. Just then Clinton came in, and he, like all gentlemen, seeing a lady in the room, greeted her first, and then talked to the Chief of the General Staff as well as to the Deputy Chief of the General Staff. I suppose their conversation at the moment was likewise not too important, presumably related to the upcoming birthday meal for Palmieri.

I certainly took no notice of what they said, for Clinton’s eyes, which he scarcely left for a moment, looked at me as if I were a precious work of art in his presence, and he looked with great care at every minute part of my body. I think his eye kisses started on my face, first on my forehead, and he really had a good eye, because my forehead was very wide and it was a courtesy heaven, a place for anyone to kiss, and in the American view, a kiss on the forehead only signaled courtesy and not sexual desire. But it’s a different story when it’s in bed or when the next target is no longer the forehead.

In fact, Clinton’s target was by no means limited to his forehead; his gaze was moving downward, and I could clearly feel him starting to kiss my eyelashes, and then, he began to make his way to my nose. It is said that a person’s nose is the sexiest part of the body, and no one is sure if there is really any truth to that, but the nose is a really very important part of the body. A person, even if the mouth or eyes and other parts of the five senses are very beautiful, if the nose is not beautiful, then, for sure, it will not be charming; on the contrary, if a person has any kind of blemish in the mouth or eyes and other parts of the mouth, but if there is a very graceful nose, it will be equally pleasing to the eyes.

Clinton is definitely a big connoisseur, which may or may not have anything to do with the fact that he also has an equally fascinating nose.

I think there must be a reason why he chose me from among many others. I have heard many men say that I am not the kind of woman who is stunningly beautiful, but all of them think I am very sexy and unanimously agree that I would give a man great satisfaction. I guess that’s the beauty of Clinton, not only is he the best at what he does, but, moreover, he knows how to savor it more than enough.

After he had bet enough energy and time on my nose, he began to turn to my lips, which, by the way, tend to save the good stuff for last, and well of course add to the path of what is good. It is said that a woman’s lips are directly connected to her sexual organs, and it is even said that a woman’s lips are her second vagina, and that everything about her first vagina can all be traced from her second vagina. For example, some people think that women with thick lips, their labia must be very thin, that will make their sensory nerves more in contact with the surface of the skin, when subjected to the man’s penis friction, it is easier to produce pleasure, therefore, people generally think that women with thick lips sexy.

I have a feeling that Clinton must have studied this deeply, and he also has his own unique understanding, therefore, he looks at the woman’s eyes will be very special, very sharp. He was like an experienced antique dealer, as long as it was a good antique, there was nothing that could escape his eyes. The truth is so, his eyes were born to see the essence of some things, sometimes to see the essence of women.

“You’re fascinating, Monica.” He said to me suddenly, and, with a gaze that seemed to change somehow, but at the time, I didn’t seem to understand that change at all.

Of course, I was somewhat sobered by his greeting and looked around, wondering when Parnett and Ecker had left the office, and now, it was just me and Clinton here.

God, what the hell is going on here? Was it premeditated, or was it Summers? I had no idea what was going on here, in Panet’s office, with Clinton and I sitting in it, and the hosts nowhere to be found. Perhaps they had gone out only by chance, but did they know what was going to happen in the interval of time they had left open? I could very clearly see Clinton sitting there, and his gaze became even more fiery. God, this sexually charged bad boy, he wasn’t trying to make some kind of move here, was he? I could feel that desire in him, but then again, he seemed to be a little timid because Parnett or Ecker could be back at any moment, and then there was Pamily, and the time for the birthday dinner was just around the corner. No, he couldn’t, he couldn’t make any moves or it would probably become a big story in the White House.

However, I could see that he was really ready to make a move, and those eyes of his told me everything. I knew what he wanted to do, he wanted to walk up, hug me, and kiss me on the lips. He was just so impulsive, he had probably been tormenting himself for a moment like this. I was sure that he and Hilary hadn’t had sex for far too long and that he was in desperate need of sexual comfort, men come out of a woman’s womb and as soon as they leave that part of a woman’s body they are like prisoners who have left a prison, they become very careless and only when they return to their homeland do they quieten down a little.

That was my feeling at the time, a feeling that was not supported by any action, a feeling that I could not be sure was correct at the time, and therefore something that I could not tell as a testimony to Mr. Stahl, the independent prosecutor, who later questioned me. All I could tell him was that I stood up and that I lifted up my tunic to reveal my underwear with laces inside. That is all I could tell him, because that is what I actually did, and I did do it.

I couldn’t make it clear to him, I felt that Clinton was taking a chance at that moment, that he was impulsive like a child, and leaping like a child, and I didn’t know what the inside story was about Parnett’s as well as Ecker’s departure, but I did know that Palmieri could be here at any moment. I couldn’t let him risk being found out and then becoming the subject of a dark rumor in the White House. I knew he was a kid with very little control in that area, and the rumors he had endured over it were too much for me to let him be hurt by his own impulses, even though I didn’t think there was anything wrong with those impulses.

So I stood up and went to the window.

I’m hoping that putting distance between us will make him a little quieter, or at least, he’ll be able to control his libido at this point and wait until there’s an opportunity for release, then he’ll be able to indulge in it for good.

However, I didn’t realize that I was causing him harm with this action, and he likely felt that I was rejecting him, so he called out almost somewhat desperately, “Monica.”

This fragile child, I think, felt at that time as if his mother had put a piece of pie in front of him, and he had always thought that this piece of pie was prepared by his mother for him, and just as he reached out for that piece of pie, his mother took it away. So he was very frustrated, to the point of almost crying out in pain.

Mothers are usually the best at comforting such children, and yes, I felt like that mother at the time, wanting to stop but at the same time not letting him despair. So I was ready to give him a little sweetness, a little hope.

Clinton’s eyes had been following me the whole time, and he had obviously seen it all, and just as I turned my head away, I saw that impulsive fire again, and he seemed to want to pounce on me. I then smiled at him, or it would not be wrong for some to think that it was a wink thrown to him. I did do that, knowing that I was an expert in such matters, and that, in fact, no American woman would be inept in the matter. Then I walked out of the Chief of General Staff’s office. It was all I could do, I thought, and if Clinton had calmed down and thought about it seriously, he would have realized that I was not rejecting him by doing that, but protecting him. He should have realized that a woman who was obsessed with him would never do anything to hurt him to satisfy her own desires, unless she had no real feelings for him, but only wanted to get from him what was not hers to give.

In fact, just as I was walking out the door, someone came to let us know that the birthday meal was starting. So, I returned and told Clinton that it was time for us to show up for Parmilli’s meal.

I think at this point Clinton has completely calmed down and understands exactly what I’m saying. I believe in his intelligence, if he can’t even understand this point, then he really doesn’t deserve to be my lover. If he can’t understand that, then he doesn’t deserve to be my lover.

“You go ahead, honey, I’ll art soon.” He said. The gaze was still so intense on me.

I immediately understood that he had seen it all and had calmed down completely. He was right, if he had walked in with an intern it could have caused some gossip and we shouldn’t have walked together because the distance between us was the distance between the mountains and the sea.

It wasn’t long before he arrived, and I was actually keeping an eye on the door, and when I saw him walk in, I greeted him with my gaze. I have already said that between us, we already have a spiritual sense, we can read each other’s heart language, he immediately understood that I was waiting for him, so he also similarly with the gaze to me, I think, his gaze at that time is a bit evil, definitely that kind of bad boy gaze. But to be honest, I liked that kind of gaze very much, it gave me a kind of hot feeling all over my body. I think he must have seen me blush really hard.

It wasn’t too long because it was an informal meal. But in that time, we made eye contact again and again, and I could feel that we were close enough to each other, as if we were alone, and could hug and kiss each other without fear.

I can definitely admit that after experiencing today, the relationship between Clinton and I, although we haven’t had any substantial contact yet, has already had soul communication, and we have already completed the identification of our feelings. If there is another opportunity for further development, I think that everything will be very natural, we no longer have to have any concealment or shyness, we love each other, this is already a certainty, there is no need to have any doubts at all.

At about eight o’clock in the evening, I finished my work, and now it’s time for me to go to the lounge, where I can go and sit for a while, have a cup of coffee or have a chat with my coworkers who also stay there, and then I have a little bit of night work. Those jobs won’t be too difficult (I mean if there aren’t any surprises) and I’ll be done by ten o’clock and then home at ten sharp. But if some special document gets sent in and Panet happens to need urgent work done on it, I might stay in the office a little longer until he thinks I’m ready to go home.

I was walking toward the rest room, and I passed George B. Shipner’s office, when I looked in very unintentionally. I was walking toward the break room, and as I passed George Shipner’s office, I glanced in there, very unintentionally, when I saw Clinton sitting alone in there, and Clinton saw me, and he waved me in, meaning to invite me in.

I knew that it was very close to his office and that there had to be no one else there or he wouldn’t have been that bold. I walked over to him while his eyes stayed fixed on my face, the fiery light grinding against my face, making my heart beat faster.

“Those eyes of yours are just so special, I think I might be mesmerized by them.” I said half seriously and half jokingly he said.

He laughed. I have to admit, when he smiled, he was just like an innocent child, his smile was very charming, especially his lips, which were very sexy, and when he smiled, it made the electricity in his eyes unusually strong, and I felt my body tighten up, and I had a feeling that I was going to faint.

“Do you have time to visit my private office?” He asked.

I think I must have had a gleam in my eye. It was so nice to visit his private office, where he could do whatever he wanted without being watched, the safest place in the whole White House. As for what he wanted to take me there, I wouldn’t even think about it, whatever he was happy to do was what I was happy to do.

“Please follow me.” He said politely him.

So I followed him through the side door of Shipner’s office word, into the President’s private dining room, and then back toward the accompanying circular office.

“Are you aware that you are very attractive?” He asked.

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to say to you.” I said.

“Really? I still have that kind of charm?”

“You are simply the most graceful and charming man I have ever met,” I admitted, “I think I was completely mesmerized by you the first time I saw you, you have a strong magnetic force that captivated me and made it impossible for me to take my eyes off you. “

“So there is chemistry between us?”

We had stopped at this point on the walkway across from the study, where there were no windows, and even if we were doing something here, there was no way anyone around could see it. The moment he stopped, I understood at once what thoughts were turning in the bad boy’s mind. Yes, he had been impatient for a long time, and as to whether he had sat alone in Shippner’s office intentionally or unintentionally, only God and he knew for sure.

“It’s not just as simple as a chemical reaction, it’s an intense nuclear reaction.” I said.

He moved a little towards my front and we stood face to face, he lowered his head slightly and looked me in the face.

He was so tall that I had to tilt my head up to get a good look at him.

We were so close that I could hear his heartbeat and his breathing clearly, and I could feel the strong manly scent emanating from his body, which was really exciting.

“You have such a lovely face.” He said, “Can I kiss you?”

I almost squealed with joy when I heard this request, and of my own accord, I reached out and wrapped my arms around his neck, meeting my face to his. He would like me like that, I thought, and it would be a way to make up for what I had done during the afternoon!

He reached out, wrapped his arms around my waist, and bent his head to press his lips to mine.

I had to admit that he was very skillful, and as I had predicted at first, bad boys are master flirts, with extremely old-fashioned techniques and a wealth of real-world experience, just like the battlefield in Vietnam, where the battle-hardened kids could be called veterans.

He initially snicked at my lips a few times, sloppily, starting with the middle part of my lips and then moving to the sides.

No one had ever kissed me like this before, and with every contact of his lips with mine, I could feel an electric stirring, a dizzying sensation that traveled rapidly from one part of my body to every nerve ending. I was a little unsatisfied with him, and took the initiative to stretch out my own tongue and make contact with his lips.

Clinton was too stimulated by this immediate chemical reaction to be as subdued as he had initially been. The bad boy opened his lips wide and took my tongue, sucking on it gently, like a child sucking on his mother’s nipple or a tasty candy. Then he began to show his aggression, keeping his tongue close to mine and trying to force his way inside me.

I fought and retreated, baiting the enemy, causing him to finally take over my mouth.

The veteran was very good at fighting a positional battle, and in the final stage, he began to launch a fierce attack, turning inside me, stirring up my whole body “sex”.

Clinton’s kisses are long and evocative.

After a long kiss, we walked into his office together. There, we spoke briefly. He asked me, “Have you had a busy day at work?” I said, “There’s not a lot going on, and I’m pretty much done, so if there are no special mail deliveries later in the evening, I should be done by ten o’clock.” He said, “Well, if I’m free then, I’ll come and see you.” I said, “That would be great, but I’ve been here long enough, and now I have to get back to the office, so feel free to call me later.” As I spoke, I took the pad of paper on my desk, wrote my name and phone number on it, handed it over to him, and hastily kissed him goodbye.

In fact, just after nine o’clock, we finished everything, Parnett as well as Ecker had already left his office, and I waited for Clinton’s appointment, purposely making the excuse that there was still something left to be done, and remained in the office. I was now alone in the office, and I thought that the whole evening had been filled with something special, perhaps a special excitement, or perhaps a quiet desire, or perhaps a thrill of connection with history, and I understood very clearly that after the kiss with Clinton, I, Monica Lewinsky, would be the only person in the world who would ever have a chance to be with Clinton, and that I would be the only person in the world who would ever be with Clinton. I understood very clearly that after the kiss with Clinton, my position in the world had changed completely, from one role in life to another.

Of course, I’ve thought about Clinton as a person who seems like he could be considered a typical womanizer.

I used to be a big supporter of his and took a very cautious approach to the sexual rumors about him, believing that some of them were understandable, while others were absolutely empty, fabricated by women who had had some kind of contact with him for the sake of their own fame and the huge benefits they would gain from being famous. I have a hard time identifying with women who associate themselves with a celebrity and portray themselves as sluts for the sake of fame or monetary gain. At the same time, I do think that a president’s sexuality is a very important thing for a country. But now, immediately after I had that kiss with Clinton, I recognized another fact, and that is that Clinton’s sexuality is indeed very complicated, and probably more complicated than the media has exposed. I believe that among those women who exposed themselves, there is definitely a part of them who told lies, but there is also another part of them, like me, who are genuinely and sincerely devoted to him, and do not want to easily expose such things, resulting in the purpose of hurting him or even hitting him hard, and I believe that more women are protecting him in the dark, and that he is indeed a man who is popular with women, and that those women would regard their interactions with him Those women will treat their interactions with him as the most precious memories and treasure them carefully in their hearts.

I was not entirely unaware that a relationship with him could become a danger. He was a married man, and, our relationship had begun in the Oval Office of the White House. The fires of my lust had been ignited by him, and I was even a little out of control. What kind of result will this lead to? Would the fire someday become more violent and eventually burn myself as well as him? Of course I knew I was playing with fire, but did he know this? I have a feeling he knows it too, the sex scandal about him has been the talk of the town all over America.

The earliest outburst about Clinton’s sexual affairs would have been on the eve of his presidential campaign.

I remember well the type of news that filled the tabloids in those days. From what I remember, it seems that the initial cause was an agent he had during his tenure as governor, and for some reason, he fired that agent. A transfer may not be a big deal for an agent, but it’s definitely a big deal if he’s fired by his master, and from that point on, it would be very difficult for him to get another job with, say, the FBI, and because of such a record, he was permanently ostracized from the doors of that organization. The agent, infuriated by this, claimed that Clinton had secret sexual relationships with a number of women and named six of them, and took this to court, formally suing Clinton for abusing his position to obtain his own sexual pleasure while he was governor.

Of these six women, the one who made the most noise was Jennifer, who claimed to have had a twelve-year affair with Clinton, and there were two other women who have left their names in the history of American beauty pageants: Lonely Miller and Jennifer. Lonely Miller. Perdue and Elizabeth Grace. Grace. The former is a woman a few years older than Clinton, she was elected “Miss Arkansas”; the latter was elected in 1981 as “Miss Arkansas”, the next year in the United States hundreds of girls in the fierce competition, won the “Miss America”. “Miss America”.

Perdue claimed in the summer of l992 at a Democratic national convention that they had had a sexual relationship for three to four months twelve years earlier when Clinton was governor of Arkansas. Later, because of her announcement that she was running as the Republican candidate for mayor of Little Rock, Arkansas, Clinton, fearing that his political future would be jeopardized by having a special relationship with a Republican activist, was genuinely alarmed and immediately broke off relations with her while Elizabeth denied any sexual contact with Clinton.

Of course, the story about these six ended up in a dead end, and all of them faded into obscurity, except for Jenny Boil and some new mysteries that popped up later on about Elizabeth.

At that time, I believed the Clintons’ explanation to all the American people that everything those women said was untenable, and I had a hard time believing that a big, handsome man like Clinton would look at a woman like Perdue who was older than him. Although Perdue was indeed voluptuous and charming, Clinton was definitely the brightest of men, and if he wanted to, he could have found a thousand women as well as younger and more attractive women than Perdue in free America, especially in the sexually open seventies.

It is also interesting to note that Perdue disappeared from the limelight when she publicly declared her secret and extraordinary relationship with Clinton in an article in Penthouse, a men’s magazine on par with Playboy. The article was written by USA Today columnist Melanie Wells. According to Wells, he had read Perdue’s diary, which contained detailed accounts of her sexual relationship with Clinton.

According to the diary, she was lying on a wicker chair in a purple “bikini” three-point swimsuit by the pool at the Little Rock Hilton when Clinton’s security detail approached her and said that Clinton remembered that what really happened at the time was that Perdue took off her three-point bra in front of Clinton, boldly exposing her large, full breasts in front of Clinton. boldly revealing her full, large breasts.

When Clinton saw this, he immediately blushed and stood there somewhat at a loss for words. Then Ms. Perdue took the initiative to touch Clinton’s abdomen… He and Clinton almost fled.

Miss Perdue was so outraged by this that she argued, “Sex makes the world go round, but lies don’t.”

After this sound, she disappeared from public opinion.

At that time, I applauded Ms. Perdue’s last statement, but I also believed that that statement did not fundamentally change a fact, and I, along with the entire population of the United States, believed that what Ms. Pershe said had never happened, and that she had merely made up that story in order to get the attention of the public, especially the media.

Americans are sick and tired of a presidential candidate becoming an overnight sensation by immediately jumping on the bandwagon of women claiming to have had a sexual relationship with that candidate. It’s one of the reasons those people don’t become celebrities after all.

But now, I believe many of them are telling the truth.

I believe that it is likely to be true that Miss Elizabeth had a relationship with Clinton, and I think that Miss Elizabeth shares my view that it was entirely voluntary between us and that there was no question of anything going against our individual wills, that there was no one forcing us to be that way, and that there was no need for us to make these things public in order to gain our own not-so-honorable reputations. At the same time, I also believe that what Poitou said, again, has its own element of truth, because it is a man who would never blush even in the face of the world’s women standing naked in front of him, which I have a deep understanding of, and who could only be looking at those sensitive parts of the women when the lust from the eyes shot out, and in the possible circumstances of the women in their arms. That senator said Clinton blushed when he saw Ms. Poitou voluntarily loosen her three-point bra.

Clearly a false statement. I’m sure all Americans will have a common opinion that if you lie in one place in an entire testimony, that doesn’t guarantee you credibility in that testimony at all.

Nonetheless, I knew that I was still in love with Clinton.

It was a very sad thing that I would become a character on his long list of women known only to him, and I began to worry a little about my future fate. On the other hand, I couldn’t help myself, because Clinton was so charming. Whether it was his gaze or his kisses, he had enough impact that he had made me give up my resistance and willingly give myself to him, knowing that I would be happy to do whatever he needed me to do for him, as long as he needed it.

While I was rambling on about this, someone came into the Chief of General Staff’s office.

I looked up in shocked realization to see that the man who had walked in was Clinton, and my heart skipped a quick beat. He was finally here, and it seemed that he was in a much more urgent mood than I was, and he was undoubtedly trying to use this evening as an opportunity to push things to a swift start. I assumed that, having meditated alone for a very long time, and because I had mentioned to him that my work would be over around ten o’clock, I thought it would be around ten when Clinton appeared. In fact, the Starr Report, which was later made public, had detailed information about the time of the event, and the White House timetable indicated that it would have been a little before half past 9:00 a.m. It is very difficult for a person to feel the passage of time when he or she is in a state of contemplation, and it is only possible that my senses could have been wrong, not that the White House records could have been wrong, and in this I absolutely believe those White House staff members.

At that time, I was often worried because I was afraid that this bad boy would go out of his way to kiss me in the Chief of General Staff’s office. Even though it was late and not many people were left in the entire White House, there were still people, and the Chief of General Staff’s office was surrounded by a lot of windows, so he could be seen at any time if he did do anything crazy.

I stood up and looked at him with fear and anticipation, and I think I must have been so flustered and excited at that point that I couldn’t even say a word.

He walked toward me, and as he passed me, he whispered, “Wait a minute, you go up to Shipman’s and wait for me, will you?”

It was now ten o’clock in the evening, so late that he had asked me to go to Shropner’s office, and, as access to his Oval Office was very easy there, I certainly knew what this appointment with him meant. As I had expected, he had decided to fast forward our relationship and make it completely definite this evening, he had turned into an impatient child who wanted to steal a mouthful, he must have been thrilled with the idea and was not able to function properly for quite some time, he had to release the lust that filled his entire body before he could settle down. This is a typical child’s mentality; a child who, having been given a tasty treat, would never want to put it away for the next day.

At that time, I must have been so flustered and agitated that I could not even express my wishes properly and just nodded to him and agreed to his request.

Later, when Starr asked questions about the process, he repeatedly asked me if I understood Clinton’s intentions for this date. In fact, there was no need to ask, we had already made many fiery eye contacts, and then we had that affectionate kiss in the evening, and what was going to happen next was so clear that even the most incapable of thinking could understand it. I’m pretty sure all American women do. When a man asks you to go on a date alone, that date leads to a realm where they have to make an accurate judgment as to what might happen as a result of having sex. If that is not what you want, you should refuse at the time, and if you don’t refuse at the time, but then something else may come up later for some other matter, the American people will have a hard time believing that you were really forced into it.

The most typical is the later outbreak of the Pingla B. Jones sued Clinton sexual harassment case. Jones sued Clinton sexual harassment case, at that time, Clinton’s security guards to find Jones and told her that Governor Clinton in his room waiting for her, she should understand what it will mean, the reason why she agreed to go to the appointment, no doubt he showed that she will be likely to happen to have a certain amount of thought preparation. But then, it is likely that Clinton’s overly “sexual” urgency caused a psychological backlash against Jones. The case was later found to be unsubstantiated for sexual harassment, in large part because of the nature of the date. Jones can’t say that she was unaware of Clinton’s attempts to date her, and since she was aware of them, she was in some sense on board with them.

I recognize my own identification with this, and whatever will happen, that too is of my own volition.

Clinton soon left the Chief of General Staff’s office, and after sitting alone for a while, feeling that I had calmed down somewhat, I stood up and left the office, heading for Shippner’s office. I was, of course, very aware that I still had my pink trainee pass tag on me, and according to the rules, those with such tags were never free to go out of the west wing of the old office building, and if they did need to go in and out because of their last job, they had to be accompanied.

It was now very late, and as I was thus walking towards the West Wing, and likely to have some trouble as a result if anyone saw, I had to be very careful to avoid people’s eyes as much as possible.

There were times when I thought someone might see me and I had to pretend to go somewhere else. It was a very special feeling, kind of like being a thief, with a high level of mental tension and alertness, and thank goodness I finally got to where I was going and, Clinton happened to be waiting for me inside.

When he saw me, he immediately turned toward the side door. I was already well acquainted with that letter-channel, and followed him through it. Shipner’s office had several doors and a number of windows, and if we stood in his office one could line up from many places to see what was going on inside, which was why he was moving quickly toward the side door. Once inside that door, it would be very difficult to be seen on the letterway.

He waited there, and after seeing me approach, he reached out and took my hand and walked forward.

I don’t consider myself an inexperienced person in this area, but at this point, I felt so very naive that I actually shivered all over as Clinton shook my hand. It was about precisely because of the very mixed feelings at that time, and some panic, because what was about to happen, after all, was not in someone’s home, or in one of those motels, but in one of the most powerful offices in the U.S.A. At that time, I didn’t really think that having sex in this office would be such a serious thing; all I could think of was that the power of that office was generating for itself a kind of strong All I could think of was that the power of that office exerted a strong mental pressure on myself, and that this pressure somehow deeply stimulated me, making me even more aroused. That, I thought, would be the real reason for my nervousness.

We went into the study together. At that time, the light in the den was turned off by Clinton, or maybe not turned on in the first place. We stood in the darkness and he hugged me tightly and started kissing me. This time it was no longer the warm and fuzzy kind of kiss, but very passionate.

He pushed very hard, as if he wanted to swallow my entire mouth into his.

As we kissed, he ran his hands over my breasts, and since they were through my shirt, the sensation didn’t seem too good. Knowing that I should give him some kind of reward, I voluntarily loosened my tunic and let my bra-clad breasts show. At a time like that, when I was more focused on my own arousal and not paying too much attention to some of the other things that were going on, I knew that my bra was loosened and pulled up above my breasts. The incident could have been my own doing, or it could have been his. If it was me, then it certainly indicated that I needed him to kiss that part of me; if it was him, then it also indicated that he was desperate for this kissing action. In fact, both possibilities existed at the same time, and I’m sure we both shared the same urgency as he immediately grabbed my breasts.

“My eyesight doesn’t seem to be out of place, it sure is big.” He stroked it, and immediately after saying this, he took the other one in his mouth.

“Do you like it?” I asked.

He didn’t answer, but sucked with great devotion, like a suckling child. At the same time, he grabbed my hand and tugged on it, pressing it against his genitals, and I could feel that his part was fully erect, very hard and strong.

I unzipped his zipper, slipped my hand down the side of his underwear, took hold of it, and gave it a few gentle squeezes. Of course, I knew that the area was very delicate, especially when erect, and usually couldn’t take much squeezing, so I had a good grip on my strength.

Clinton seemed to feel a great deal of excitement as he let out a soft yelp.

I pulled the hard thing that was high up against my panties and exposed it to the air.

Since the light in the room wasn’t too strong, I could only feel how firm and large he was, and couldn’t really see what it looked like. But I was sure that it must be very shapely and very confident and proudly doing it, I stroked it gently and it seemed to take the stroking very well, its temperature was rising and it was pulsing gently and regularly.

The bad boy certainly didn’t stop, he knew exactly what I needed at a time like this. His mouth still did not leave my breasts, as he said, my breasts are very large, and when stimulated, the nipple will be rapidly engorged with blood, just like a man’s genitals, will be completed in a short period of time “erection”, at this time, if there is no appeasement, it is a very painful thing.

Of course, it wasn’t just my nipples that accomplished this erection, there was a much more private part of it. He was very aware of this, so he moved his down away from my breasts and quickly completed a downward motion, plunging into the waist of my pants and pressing against my pussy through my panties.

I didn’t understand why he didn’t just reach into my panties at that point, I thought that I would have enjoyed it more if that had been the case because the stimulation was more immediate. In fact he didn’t do that, he pressed on my pussy through my panties, and because of the barrier of my panties he couldn’t get to my clitoris very clearly. I think the area he was touching was nothing more than the upper part of my vagina, which he certainly knew was the most sensitive area. I began to feel aroused and moaned softly, I wanted to scream out my arousal but I couldn’t, I didn’t know if there was anyone else in the rest of the office, for example, not far away, and if our activities here would be overheard, and we had to be very careful, so that we could keep our relationship going for a long time, and not let our arousal burn him as well as me. desire to burn him as well as me.

Very regrettably, the phone rang at that moment.

He pulled his hand out of my panties, and I knew he was getting ready to answer the phone, so I let go of my hand as well. I thought that was the end of the day, that would certainly be a bummer, but there was nothing I could do about it. I knew to the point that the initiative for everything was all in his hands, he was a man of power, a man who commanded the whole of America, and he certainly had the power to hold the sexual desires between him and me.

However, he very quickly grabbed my hand and had guided it once again to his exposed sex before wrapping his arm around my waist and walking with me through the other door of the study toward that office in the back.

Throughout that limited distance, I stayed nestled in his arms, gently holding his genitals in one hand, and gently pumping them up and down.

He walked over to his desk and sat down in his chair, swinging his body at an oblique angle and spreading his legs outward. Exposing his sex to me. I think he picked up the phone and started talking to someone. I didn’t pay much attention to the content of that call, only a little when I thought it was too long, and it appeared that he was talking to a senator or a congressman.

Just as he was talking, I was still stroking his sex with my hand, and I could feel his desire intensifying as his sex stood up straighter and straighter. That’s when he brought that empty hand up to my face and gently stroked it, caressing my cheeks, the corners of my mouth, and the whorls of my ears, and then I felt his hand grab the back of my head and was pressing my head down harder.

I immediately understood what he meant he wanted me to suck his cock.

I am no stranger to performing oral sex on men or having them perform oral sex on me in the course of my previous encounters with those men, and I think I am very adept at it. I remember a man once telling me that it was because I had an exceptionally large mouth, and that a large mouth was not a difficult thing to incorporate even the largest of a man’s sex organs. On the other hand. I also know that my own teeth are very critical when performing oral sex. The sex organ is a very delicate organ, and if it frequently encounters something hard while twitching, it can greatly affect the level of sexual arousal.

I got on my knees in front of him, leaned forward, grabbed his genitals with my hands and shoved them into my mouth. I contracted my teeth back as far as I could and hid them behind my lips, taking it in with my lips and thrusting it inside my mouth. His dick was indeed a little too big, and as I sucked it all the way inside, there was something about the way his glans pushed against my throat that made me gasp.

Of course, I had to admit that it was a very exciting sensation, not as intense as having my genitals inserted inside me, but it was a sensation that I enjoyed.

His call was so long (I later learned from the Starr Report that he actually answered two calls at that point, which added up to ten minutes, that it’s no wonder I thought he was on the phone too long. And I was probably so involved that I didn’t even feel that another call had ever come in). I could sense that he was enjoying me sucking his cock.

I remember reading somewhere that Clinton was more interested in women’s mouths than their vaginas. He’s a man of many interests and enjoys all kinds of sex, but the one that turns him on the most is oral sex.

I could feel his arousal getting stronger and stronger, and I also believe that my skills played a very important role at this point, and if he hadn’t been distracted by the phone call, I could have brought him to orgasm in a very short period of time.

Finally, his long, obnoxiously long phone call was over. I thought he would need something else, like access to my vagina, which many men expect and which women love. Oral sex, while it gives pleasure, is never as soft and lubricated as a vagina, which is truly a man’s home of tenderness, a place of intoxication.

I let go of his genitals and looked up at him. He pressed my head once more and pressed it towards his crotch. I then knew that he really, really liked it that way.

Some men, when they have their first contact with a woman, are so sexually aroused that they are often not satisfied with just one fuck. I have encountered similar situations, where they often ask for oral sex before inserting their genitals directly into the vagina for a second time. I thought that Clinton might be one of those people, and he had given us plenty of time for this rendezvous, and he had already made up his mind to make the most of it.

Once again, I took his cock in my mouth. I admit that my desire was so intense that I desperately wanted him to penetrate me and make me have the same orgasm as he did. Therefore, I worked harder and harder, and the amplitude of my head bobbing back and forth was getting bigger and bigger. The stimulation of this swinging was very strong for him, and his gasping became more and more rapid, because of the restraint and self-suppression, he didn’t make that kind of joyful scream.

While I was performing oral sex on him, he would occasionally say something to me, and he told me that he felt wonderful, just wonderful. He also said that it had been a long time since he had had an experience like this, that Hilary seemed to be losing interest in sex, and that he was in a constant state of arousal. He said that my eyes were so stimulating to him that they set his whole body on fire when he looked at them. He said that he knew from the beginning that I was a very capable woman (I knew he was referring to my sexual prowess, which I had no doubt about), and that he was right, I did fascinate him.

Just as I felt his explosion coming, he very suddenly wrapped his hands around my head and pushed my head forward, causing my mouth to be completely free of his genitals.

At this, I was very puzzled, and looked up at him, questioning him with my eyes.

“Okay, that’s the end of it.” He said.

“Why? I want to get it over with.” I said, and I was very sincere.

“No, that will be after I get to know you better and trust you completely.” He said.

I think he was joking. I know men, they are so desperate when they are close to ejaculation that they can’t control themselves, and Clinton was at such a time, and it wasn’t just a matter of him making love to me with his eyes or kissing me, our relationship had changed completely and qualitatively over the course of the evening. He had seen my breasts and kissed them; he had put his hand on my private parts, though through my panties, he had after all fondled my member, rubbing it gently with his middle finger on my labia near my clitoris; and I had touched his penis and taken it into my mouth for a long time to give him a blowjob, all of which, in fact, was not any different from ejaculation, or all of the people in the world, for that matter. difference, or everyone in the whole world wouldn’t think it wasn’t intercourse.

The United States is a very serious country in this regard, they will explain the definition of sexual intercourse in great detail, both people think that oral sex is part of sexual intercourse, and some people think that oral sex and sexual intercourse is not directly related; sexual intercourse should be a direct sexual contact, that is to say, the man will be inserted into the woman’s vagina, and ejaculation is completed. Sometimes, the seriousness of Americans is unbearable, for example, sometimes a man inserts his penis into a woman’s body, but does not ejaculate, or does not ejaculate inside the woman’s body, but pulls it out and empties it outside the body, and it becomes an issue of endless debate.

Sometimes you’d be surprised what the law would say about this sort of thing, but in fact, that’s what they would say. Sexual intercourse without ejaculation they define as incomplete sexual intercourse, which is different in some sense from completed sexual intercourse, and they define sexual intercourse as terminated if the genitals are withdrawn at the last moment of ejaculation to perform an extracorporeal ejaculation! This is ridiculous, as almost everyone knows; any different person may have a completely different interest in intercourse than others, and a large percentage of people find extracorporeal ejaculation more pleasurable than intracorporeal ejaculation, which is how ridiculous it is to define termination as such).

Outside the law, however, it would be argued that there is not really a more fundamental difference between sexual contact and sexual intercourse.

I am pretty sure I believe that Clinton and I have had intercourse with each other, and if this really could have been a major embarrassment to him, ejaculating or not ejaculating would never have been the point, and even if he hadn’t ejaculated, it wouldn’t have affected anyone else’s opinion on the matter. That’s why I thought he was joking. In fact, he actually had it in his mind to get it over with, it’s just that he suddenly had some other ideas.

Soon I realized that I had thought wrong, and that he had actually stowed his genitals in that nest and closed that door behind him.

“I don’t understand.” I said, “I know you need it badly, your job is very stressful and you need a release, don’t you? You just said that you haven’t had a release in a long time, and that’s not fair to you, you should let yourself relax.”

He stroked my head with one hand and my breasts with the other, and said to me, “You are an understanding little girl, and you please me very much.”

“I wish I could do more for you.” I said, “I don’t think about anything else, I just think of one thing, you need it and I need it just as much. We’re both adults, right? We’re attracted to each other, so we both want to be able to bring each other joy and happiness, and that’s the nature of the problem, and there’s no need for either of us to avoid that.”

Instead of following me on this topic, he suddenly grabbed the pass tag on my chest and said to me, “This could be a problem.”

I then realized somewhat that he really refused to be reassured.

Perhaps he would be worried about me walking around his office with this pass all the time, and that would quickly draw attention to me. Until then, I thought he had something to do with me getting a position in the White House, that I got that opportunity because he said hello. Now I think that if he did, he shouldn’t have been unaware of the fact that I had actually become a member of the White House, and then the issue of the license plate wouldn’t have been an issue.

I then told him that I had been offered a position in the White House, and that I should actually have officially reported for duty the day before yesterday, if the government hadn’t shut down.

He listened and said, “Very well.”

Then for a short time we had some conversations, and we clung to each other like a couple of real lovers in his study, kissing and caressing each other.

I tried to stroke his sex again, but he refused. I thought that he might be close to the edge of ejaculation due to his extreme arousal and that he would finish that if I stroked again or even made oral contact. That’s why he refused.

In fact, I would have liked to spend more time with him, I was indeed very impulsive, I wished I could tell him that I needed it badly, my panties were already dirty from all that damned secretion, and I hoped that he would make me orgasm in whatever way he could, that was what I needed most at this point. But he wouldn’t even help me orgasm for him, and I couldn’t expect him to agree to anything else. So my only hope was to spend more time with him and talk to him more.

Though it is true that we have made eye contact many times, that is, after all, the gaze, a silent language. People actually sometimes don’t trust their senses at all, preferring instead to trust their hearing, and I wanted him to use his mouth to make it clear to me, to repeat with his mouth that which he had once told me with his gaze, and I liked to hear it that way.

But, he ended the conversation very hastily, saying that it wasn’t safe, that someone could come in at any time, and that he wanted me to leave early. And, he promised that we would have time later. After he got to know me better, we would have more intimate encounters.

We then kissed goodbye, and as he pressed his lips against mine, I suddenly had a mischievous thought and I raided him with my own hand. Once again I touched his penis, which remained firm and didn’t seem to let up for a moment. The thought occurred to me that perhaps he was a little unable to hold back, and by siding with me, was he trying to release that already unstoppable sexual desire through himself? I thought, most likely, that it was that, not to mention him, even I was just as impulsive and uncontrollable, and I had to have a self-resolution.

It was very late that night when I left the White House, I think it was probably close to twelve or zero o’clock. As I left that white building and walked back to the Watergate Apartments, I had a very conflicted feeling in my mind that I was probably on an adventure. At the same time it was clear to me that I was already deeply involved in this thing, probably more so than Clinton. I’m not so sure I have the strength to pull myself out of this thing. At the same time, I know that I’m actually very excited about it.

I admit that I did not see Clinton as the President of the United States, and that I had completely changed my opinion of him when he looked at me in that bad-boy way, and that I already saw him as a man, a normal man. So I had already decided that having sex with a man was not a serious matter, that there was no law in the U.S. that limited it, that the U.S. recognized completely consensual sex. It was just that the fact that the man I was having sex with was different from other American men in that he had a great deal of power and prominence seemed to add to the glamor of the whole thing, and stimulated my desires even more.

Being deeply attracted to each other is something I would never deny, but it would be untrue to say that in the beginning we fell in love. I was very aware of the role I was playing, and what was happening between us was exactly the kind of thing that can often happen to kids who cheat on each other, and it had nothing to do with love. What was happening between us was just a sex game, because I needed him and he needed me, and so we were giving each other our sexual organs to satisfy each other. This is a very typical American game that many people play all the time.

Since ordinary people have the right to play that kind of game, I think that as the President of the United States, he is not above ordinary Americans, so he is equally entitled to that kind of game.

Another point to be made is that the beginning of this sex game has brought about at least one particular change in me, that is, I have completely forgotten my former lover and the trouble that Ikki caused me, and my whole state of mind has completely changed. I think I have recovered my former self and become a happy and lively little girl again, instead of the woman who had to pretend to be happy and lively on the surface in order to get the approval of others, but in fact was in extreme pain inside, and I have come out of an abyss, which is very important to me.

Clinton had promised me that he would make some proper arrangements for us to go further, and that, I absolutely believed. And, again, now that I had been offered a position in the White House, in the future, we would have more time together.

I am confident and excited about the future.

III. Deep friendship with the President

Two days later on Friday, it was the fourth day that the federal government had ceased to be in office.

It’s been another busy workday, with so little staff and so much work to deal with, I’ve been working very hard to do what I’m supposed to be accomplishing.

I like to keep busy, especially after my first sexual encounter with Clinton, and if I’m quiet, I often have strange thoughts popping up, imagining what he’s doing at the moment, if he’s thinking about me as much as I’m thinking about him, and if he’s secretly making arrangements for our passionate meeting again. Was he satisfied with what I had given him the first time and ready to let me give him more the second time?

That thought was really distasteful, because the excitement of having to recall those scenes when we were both alone together, the imagery of which often made it all very difficult, and there was a sense of urgency and repression.

Work is one of the best forgetfulness agents, and you must not have time to think those weird thoughts if you have endless work wrapped around you.

It wasn’t until after 8:30 that I was finally done with the work I had to do during the day, and of course, there could be some work in the evening, but that evening was about the mail situation and what kind of calls Mr. Parnett would be getting and what kind of documents he would have to deal with. I certainly hope that the evening will be easier, if Clinton will set up a meeting. If that meeting doesn’t happen, again, I’d rather work a little more.

I cleaned up my desk a little bit and then left the White House and went out to get something to eat, I was already really hungry.

This job at the White House is good for everything except one thing, and that is that we often have to postpone our meals because we are in a hurry, and the man who works at the White House must have a very sound stomach, otherwise he must not be able to cope with that completely irregular rhythm of life. Of course, the White House is not completely unthinking in this regard, and if you think you do need it, you can order some food from the kitchen. This includes some in-between meals, and as long as you’ve said hello in advance, they’ll be sure to please you. And when you get your food and go to the break room or take the time to eat it in your office, no one will think you are violating work discipline. From this point of view, the work environment in the White House is, again, much more relaxed and pleasant than in those big companies with strict management. In fact, there are a lot of people who don’t like that kind of booking. No one can predict when they will have a need to eat, and no one can specify what kind of food they will be interested in an hour or a few hours later.

You think you need a sandwich now, but after an hour, you might get tired of the sandwich but wish for a piece of hamburger. So, some people prefer to find a little spare time on their own to go out and fix their secretary’s diet, which is exactly why some people have to go hungry so often.

I think I took thirty minutes or a little more to eat, and then it was back to the office for the rest of the evening.

After entering the White House, we stood down and talked for a few minutes because we ran into another intern on the way who had also applied for a job at the White House, but the White House didn’t hire her. She had already heard about my hiring by the White House, congratulated me, and told me how lucky I was. I told her that I would have preferred to get a position in the old administration building and that a position in the new building was not my ideal. She said that I was lucky enough and that I shouldn’t be too greedy. She also said that it would be nice to be on this side of the old building, of course, but that it would be much easier to stay in the White House, and that there must be a chance to walk into the new building, than it would be for those who couldn’t even walk into the White House.

Shortly afterward, I felt a great deal of remorse for this chat, for when I returned to my office, I heard that Clinton had just come in, stayed about a minute or less, and then left, a fact which was later confirmed by the White House records quoted in the Starr Report. I thought that Clinton had come to the Chief of General Staff’s office with the purpose, of course, of looking for me, and that, perhaps, he had made some arrangement for us tonight, but that, because I was out of the office, his plans had been all but disrupted.

Damn it, why did I even think of going out to dinner? And, why didn’t I come back to the office earlier? Why was I chatting with that bingo student who didn’t really have any friendships? She may have nothing to do, but my time is exceptionally valuable.

If we miss this one, when will the next one be? Clinton is not an ordinary man, and if he were to appear in the Chief of Staff’s office on a regular basis, wouldn’t he cause some gossip? Then he probably wouldn’t make arrangements for our second meeting any time soon in order to protect his own influence! All these mistakes were due to my caprice, and I had no means of remedying them; I could neither call him on the telephone nor run to his office to explain everything to him. At that moment, his oval office must have been full of people, and he was probably meeting someone there, and if I crashed in very suddenly, the person I was meeting would have been very surprised! The presence of a young woman with a trainee pass in a place like that was definitely not normal, and if word of it got out to the media, which was the best at making trouble out of nothing, it would certainly create another furor and cause a strong earthquake.

What do I do? What do I do? Do I just sit here and wait? What else can I do?

The likelihood that he would show up in the Chief of General Staff’s office a second time on the same night was slim to none, and it seemed that I was destined to miss the appointment.

I definitely didn’t expect the opportunity to come so soon.

There are some things that you just can’t believe in providence without believing in it, because you have experiences that look as if God had ordained them. For example, Clinton came to the Chief of Staff’s office on his own initiative, which seemed to indicate that he wanted to see me tonight, but by sheer coincidence, I certainly should have been able to see him in the office if I hadn’t run into the intern on the way and stopped to chat. But by some misadventure I had missed that opportunity, making our evening meeting seem no longer possible.

But then, suddenly, things changed and the opportunity presented itself. What is this if not the will of God?

Those in the White House were not exactly finding time to go out to dinner as I was, some of them had ordered dinner from the restaurant, and just as I was getting very frustrated at not seeing Clinton, Special Assistant to the Chief of the General Staff, Jenifer. Palmieri ordered pizza delivered.

Parmely had not only ordered the pizzas himself, but he had also ordered them for a couple of Oval Office staffers, who needed to be notified to pick them up themselves, or have them delivered. Parmely, of course, wouldn’t do a little thing like that himself, so it fell to me to do it.

Such an assignment was too good and too timely for me, and how I wished I had the opportunity to approach the Oval Office, but such an opportunity, when all was said and done, came.

When I walked into Ms. Currie’s office, I saw that there were several people gathered there, and I saw at once that Clinton was standing in the midst of them, and he was so outstanding that I could have picked him out of the crowd at a glance, not to mention the fact that there were only a few people there, or even if there had been a few more.

I believe I have developed a very special sense of smell for his presence; I can smell him and hear his footsteps.

I told them the pizza had arrived and handed it to them.

They each grabbed their own pizzas and then prepared to return to their offices while I spun my thoughts that I should find an opportunity to have a word with him, or at least give him, a hint of what was going on. But there were still a lot of people in the office at that point, and if I stayed there too long (it wasn’t exactly a place I should have been, and if it wasn’t enough for extraordinary times, there was no way I would have been given the opportunity to be so close to the pinnacle of power), it would have probably led to some talk.

As I mentioned earlier, everything seemed to be providential, and just when I was at my wits’ end, an unexpected event helped me. There was a man — I think it was Mr. Taufo — and I was so preoccupied with Clinton that I didn’t see who he was, and even when he apologized later, I didn’t notice, and I accidentally touched the pizza on my body and stained my clothes.

I immediately ran into the restroom. I knew that this was an opportunity for me; the men were leaving Currie’s office, and they would certainly be gone by the time I walked out again. And, if Clinton really had a heart, he would be there waiting for me.

In fact, just as I imagined, when I came out of the restroom, I saw Clinton standing in the doorway of Currie’s office, and when he saw me, he initiated him to say, “You come with me.”

I was ecstatic that he was really there for me, which was great.

The location of this stopover was again his private study (many of our sexual encounters actually took place within this enclosure, as it was a special place, especially since the walkway, as well as the bathroom, didn’t have windows that opened up to anywhere, and could be avoided from being glared at by others). But now, it’s hard for me to remember if it was his bathroom we walked into or if it was on the walkway, because it happened in the same few places each time, and it’s hard for me to remember where it happened each time. Personally, I think it’s more likely that it was the hallway, because both he and I were in a bit of a hurry, and as soon as we realized that no one could see us, we hugged and started kissing.

Clinton seemed to be as measured about kissing as he was about making love. I think, perhaps because he felt that it was not yet time, our kiss was not passionate, but rather the warm style that he used when he kissed me for the first time, which was initially nothing more than shallow and slow, and then only later would there be some strong action, but still without losing a kind of gentleness. I have to admit that he was very gentlemanly when he kissed in this way, it almost made him look like one of those conformist Cockneys from the movies, and at the same time I have to admit that kissing in this way had a very special charm.

After the long kiss was over, I told him that I had to get back to my office as soon as possible, that I had some things that needed to be done or else the guys might be looking for me. I would see him again in a little while if possible.

He agreed and told me I could bring a couple pizzas for him.

It was a good idea. I figured that by taking the pizza, I would have the fullest reason to reach out to him; an intern delivering a little food to the President, that should be a normal thing to do, not cause any speculation or suspicion, and even if someone were to rise up later, the incident would be easy to explain.

“Okay.” I said, planting a goodbye kiss on his cheek: “But there’s probably a pizza that’s better for you.”

“I really want to try it right away.” He said.

When I got back to my office, I sat down for a few minutes and told Palmieri that the President had asked me to bring him some pizza, in which case it wouldn’t matter if I stayed in the Oval Office for a few more minutes, they might think that the President had asked me to do something else. It’s entirely possible that the entire White House is at its lowest point in its history, and every office has a lot of things that need to be done, so it’s not possible for everyone to have very strict duties, as they usually do.

A few minutes later, I walked into Cory’s office with a pizza and said to Cory, “The President asked me to bring him some pizza.”

Normally, Corey would have taken them and given them to Clinton herself, I don’t know if Clinton said anything to her or if she had already figured something out, but anyway, her actions at the time gave me the impression that she was going along with the whole thing, she didn’t take the food from me or tell me to put it down, she stood up, opened the door to the Oval Office, peeked in and said to the President, “Sir, that girl brought pizza. inside and said, “Sir, the girl brought pizza.”

I heard Clinton say to let me in.

Cory led me into Clinton’s office and I handed him the pizza. Like a proper gentleman, he held the pizza in front of his nose, sniffed it, said it looked like it tasted good, and asked me to sit down again. Currie, probably realizing that Clinton might have something to say to me, backed out and went back to his office.

I knew from the start that Clinton’s request for pizza was just an excuse to see me, and that he hadn’t touched the pizza at all, at least not while I was still in his office.

He put down the pizza in his hand as soon as he saw Corey walk out, then gestured toward his study.

I immediately understood what he meant, and I thought that I might have to stay here for a longer period of time, and I didn’t know whether or not we might have intercourse, but I did know that what had happened the previous two days would happen again very soon. He would probably ask me to perform oral sex on him, but whether he would be willing to let me ejaculate for him, I really wasn’t too sure, for that matter, I felt that Clinton had always been a little bit special and mysterious, and I really didn’t understand what he was afraid of in his mind, or maybe it was because of the sheer number of sex scandals about him that he was being extra cautious?

But really, what kind of difference is there between oral sex and ejaculation? Maybe the judge will have some completely different opinion, but I don’t.

The initial process was one that we could say we were already very familiar with. No more hints, no more requests, we quickly embraced and began a passionate kiss, and then he undressed me, leaving my breasts exposed to him, which he seemed to particularly enjoy, playing with them again and again as if they were a work of art, and kissing the other side of them with his mouth. I knew what he needed, of course, but I didn’t do that. I needed to know more about him, so I slipped my hand into the lining of his shirt and stroked his skin.

Just as I was about to make further moves, something interrupted our caresses.

Before we went into the study, Clinton purposely left the door to his office open, leaving a small crack, that seemed to indicate to people that anyone could walk into his office at any time, and that there was nothing unseemly in the contact between him and me, but in fact it was clear to anyone who saw it, that even Currie must have asked him for instructions before coming in, and that no one was going to come running into his office very suddenly. If anything like that did happen, it would have been stopped by the agents outside his office.

At that point, a congressman called, so Currie went out into the hallway, held the half-open door of the president’s office and called inside, “Sir, there’s a call for you.” And she gave the name of the caller.

Clinton answered and then picked up the phone receiver in the study, Clinton called the man by his first name in tweed, obviously they were on better terms.

I stood by, a bit at a loss for words, so I looked at him with my eyes, hoping that he would give me some instructions, and while he was talking on the phone and looking at me with his eyes, he then unzipped his pants with his other hand and reached in, pulling his penis out of it. I could see that his penis was fully erect, and the glans was glistening with a special sheen from the blood.

He glanced at me and then back to his cock, and I immediately realized that he wanted me to suck his cock, which he seemed to enjoy doing while talking to someone on the phone. At that time, as I knelt down and took his cock, I wondered what those people would think if they knew that he was enjoying the pleasure of someone sucking his cock while he talked about something on the phone, and whether they would be disgusted or angry about it.

And yet I know that Clinton is just too much of a fan of this approach.

Later, I had seen some media speculation on the matter, and they suggested that the reason Clinton was happy with oral sex and never used penile penetration to give himself pleasure was because he felt that his age issues, as well as his physical stamina, etc., would be an impediment to intercourse.

He had a strong sexual desire, but was worried that his body would not be able to withstand that kind of strenuous exercise, and oral sex could both make him reach orgasm and at the same time did not require him to put in too much physical effort. That media outlet thus concluded that Clinton was in fact a very selfish person even when it came to sexual enjoyment.

I can’t really comment on this argument, because I am somewhat puzzled by Clinton’s failure to have sexual intercourse with me and his failure to give a statement about it. However, I do not recognize the argument that he was trying to preserve his strength, and I believe that Clinton was in perfect health, as clearly evidenced by his frequent political activities and his strong sexual urges. I am quite sure that if he were to have sex, he would be no weaker in bed than a twenty year old. The reason why I keep calling him a bad boy and not a bad old man has something to do with it. You can feel a life force in him that never runs out.

But it is also true that my sexual encounters with Clinton have always started with kissing and ended with oral sex. I can’t give a precise answer as to why this is the case. If Clinton ever writes his memoirs after he leaves office, I would love for him to include a paragraph about me in his memoirs and give me a believable explanation for the fact that, like the last time, he stopped me before he was about to ejaculate.

At this point, I more or less believed his claim that he hadn’t created enough trust yet, so I didn’t hold out over it, because I also knew from my last experience that it was unlikely that he would be able to help me satisfy my own sexual desires, and I was able to get close to him, which was already very good, and I didn’t dare to wish for anything else.

This contact we had was much shorter than the first, after the cessation of oral sex.

We talked very casually and briefly, and he said he really liked my smile and energy, and that it was because of that that he was attracted to me. He said that being with me made him feel very young still.

I said, “You’re already very young.”

“Do you see it that way?” He asked.

“It’s not that I see it that way, it’s what your libido tells me.” I said.

I knew I should go, I was here to deliver his pizza, and if I stayed here too long there might be some speculation from others, and that wouldn’t do any good for our future interactions.

Clinton told me that he was usually free on Mondays, and that there weren’t too many people around at that time, and that it would be less of a hassle to meet, and that he would like me to come and see him at that time.

But in fact after that we didn’t have another close encounter for over a month, and I think one of the main reasons for that was that I had left the Office of the Chief of General Staff and had gone to the new administrative building, but the opportunities in the old building were just too few. And he didn’t have an adequate excuse to walk over to the new administration building, even more so for the reason he later stated to me, that he had lost the phone number I had given him.

And I was in a new position at that time, unlikely to be able to run out of the house very often, much less have any reason to go to the old building, and had nothing in my mind, though I was very anxious to see Clinton. It was probably the same with him, I suppose. He could get certain officials to meet him, but there was absolutely no reason to publicly summon a novice like me. If his meeting with me when I was in the old building could be construed as being due to proximity, there was no chance of that happening when I arrived in the new building.

It was the last day of 1995, and it had been forty-four days since we had last met alone. Since it would soon be New Year’s Day, and the Office of Legal Affairs wasn’t too busy, I was pretty much free this entire day. I thought I should take the opportunity to see Clinton, whether he summoned me or not, all the same. I can’t keep waiting for him, he’s just too busy, and if I don’t go see him for another month, maybe he’ll even forget my name.

I got a bunch of documents from my desk and cradled them in my arms before leaving the new building and heading towards the old one, I remembered that the man on duty that day outside the Oval Office in the West Wing was an agent named Sandy, he would have had an impression of me. In fact that’s exactly what happened, when I told him that I was going to deliver some documents to the President, he just smiled and let me through.

Clinton might have heard me talking to Sandy in his office, so he called out to me as I walked by, but he had obviously forgotten my name, and it wasn’t Monica or Lewinsky, it was “Kittu”, which is really off the mark. I thought to myself, “I’ve come to the right place today.” If it had been another month, he wouldn’t have remembered that I existed in the world!

Of course, the fact that he would forget my name was not something to be surprised about. On the one hand, he was really very busy, and on the other, he rarely called me by my name. I was usually referred to as “darling”, “baby” or “sweetie”.

I didn’t walk into his office right away, but went into his private dining room first.

I figured that Clinton had probably just had lunch, and at that point, the White House chef, Ernie B. White, was still busy. Ness was still busy, so I stopped to talk to him. Ness was smoking a cigar at the time, and he asked me if that would have any effect on me. I said, “No, I’ve smoked a cigar recently, and I thought it tasted great. Ness then said that if we met again, he would give me one of the President’s cigars. I joked that the President’s cigar must taste different.

Initially, it was indeed a joke, but I soon realized that the joke seemed a bit too erotic by a bit. However, it was good that Ness seemed to know nothing about it, nor did it occur to me that the same phrase might be interpreted in other ways.

It wasn’t long before Clinton walked in. He spoke to us for a few moments and then quickly dismissed Ness. I was under the impression that Clinton seemed to have given him an assignment to deliver an item of some kind to Panet in the Office of the Chief of General Staff, and Ness, of course, promptly walked away. So Clinton and I walked together toward his study.

“You and Ness seemed to have a nice chat.” He said.

I then told him about the cigars, including, of course, the statement that “the President’s cigars must taste different”. Clinton didn’t seem to realize that there was another way to interpret that statement either, so he just smiled, took a cigar, and handed it to me.

I introduced myself to him for the third time and told him that my name was Monica B. I told him my name was Monica Lewinsky and not Kitu. He said he knew my name, but then added that he couldn’t find the phone number I had given him, and that he had tried to find it elsewhere, in the phone book, but was told that was impossible.

It upset me just a little bit that he really didn’t remember who I was. A woman who had twice had oral sex with him, and shortly before that, he had told me himself that he already knew who I was, did he really never remember me? Or maybe he had never taken me seriously at all, and the purpose of his relationship with me was just to play a sex game, like the Americans in the seventies, who felt good about someone and immediately took her to a hotel. After the sexual intercourse, the two of them parted ways, not even remembering each other’s last name or what they looked like?

For some time now, I’ve been haunted by him, and several times in my dreams, I’ve made love to him in my dreams, but the truth is, he doesn’t even remember my name, and I don’t actually have the slightest bit of weight in his mind, is that really true?

He seemed to sense my displeasure, so he kissed me and explained that of course he knew my name was Monica, but he didn’t want people to think that he knew me well enough to call me by the wrong name on purpose, that it was for show. At least with regard to the question of my phone number, that is actually a completely different matter; his inability to find as well as remember my phone number is not the same as his inability to remember my name. Monica is the name of a saint, a name that is just too easy to remember, and if he can’t even remember such a name, then he should consider stepping down from the presidency of the United States.

When he was done, he pressed his lips against mine again, slipping his tongue inside me as far as it would go, stirring up arousal all over my body.

Since I had told my name for the third time before that, I couldn’t verify whether what he said was true or not, and had to trust him for the time being.

What happened next was basically the same as the first two times, you could say that even the process was exactly the same, we started kissing as soon as we walked into his study, and then he smoothed up my dress, exposing my breasts, and started stroking and kissing them. The second step was for me to suck his cock again, and like the previous two times, just as he was about to cum, he stopped me.

Afterwards, when Starr was questioning me, he repeatedly asked if Clinton had ejaculated and why he hadn’t let me get it over with, to which I couldn’t give an answer because he had answered once, and after that, although I had asked about it, he hadn’t given a positive Q&A. Later, I actually confirmed his statement, as he did not always let me finish things off, and on two occasions, I did let the ground reach orgasm.

In fact, I now feel very sorry for those two climaxes, and I think that if I had not insisted again and again, there would have been many things later on, and it would not have been the way it is today, and at least, he could have stuck to his usual claims throughout his term of office, and he could have thus survived this difficult time and very likely ascended to the United States Presidential throne for the third time to be the first President of the United States in the 21st century. But now, I really can’t be sure what the end will be for him, and I know that I have created a great dilemma for him, just like the dilemma I have created for myself. How would things have turned out if that dress with his semen on it hadn’t been there in the first place? Would it have ended up like the Jones case? I think I would have been very happy with that outcome.

On the other hand, both I and Clinton himself should have recognized the unsuitability of that kind of contact, and Clinton, in particular, was likely under much more psychological and mental stress than I was.

I know that Clinton still had two big problems that had not been finally solved. The first one was the alleged fraud in the Arkansas governor’s office twenty years ago, later known as the “Whitewater investment case”, in which Hillary, as the governor’s wife, was involved in the investment. Later, after the Republican Party’s investigation, found that this investment case is the most powerful weapon against Clinton, if the fraud problem is proved, then, “Whitewater case” will become and lead to the Republican Party lost the presidency of the “Watergate” equal. Clinton, in addition to resigning, probably won’t have any other way to go. Subsequently, the “Whitewater case” became more and more serious and had to be handed over to Starr, an independent prosecutor, and became a kind of federal case.

As a matter of fact, in the course of more than 40 months of costly investigations, Starr did prove that some of the people who had important responsibilities in the Whitewater case were suspected of fraud, and he succeeded in putting many of them in jail. However, that was not his goal, his goal was Clinton and Hillary, but to his great regret, he has never been able to catch Clinton and Hillary any handle, therefore, his wish to drive Clinton and his Democratic government out of power seems to be in vain.

Starr was an indefatigable fellow, and later on, having been in contact with him for some time, I retained an extremely deep impression of his character, and I thought that whoever it was, had better keep away from the fellow, or he would surely suffer a great loss at the hands of that fellow.

Whether Clinton will be completely planted in the hands of Starr, up to the present, I am not too clear, and there is no final conclusion, but I have reason to believe that this time, Clinton, even if he does not die in the hands of him, molting a layer of skin that is no doubt. The key to the whole problem lies in the Congress those who sit in the same seat for too long, some of the waist and back pain in the mind and eyes have become numb bureaucratic door whether to realize the existence of sexual desire, for a country’s importance.

Of course, that would be going too far. Let us now return to the “Whitewater case”.

As I said before, Starr is a stubborn and tough guy, he did not get much valuable things in the “Whitewater case”, so he turned his attention to other areas, one after another, made a pile of trouble that Clinton could not cope with, such as the “travel door case “, “file door case”, “Paula Jones case” and so on. Jones case” and so on. Until he finally dug out through the Jones case, a “Lewinsky and Clinton sex scandal case”, he seemed to feel a little relief, because he was absolutely in the tightly stuck Clinton’s neck, waiting for Congress to give the order, he will violently increase the force, at that time, Clinton will be dead.

The second case mentioned here is actually a derivative of the Whitewater case, which is the Paula Jones sexual harassment case. It is the Paula Jones sexual harassment case.

Jones, a former low-level employee of the Arkansas Industrial Development Commission, was assigned on May 8, 1991, to register for the “Governor’s Management Seminar” held at the Arkansas Excelsior Hotel. According to Jones’ statement to the court, around 2:30 p.m. that day, Clinton, then Governor of Arkansas, had his security officer, Danny Ferguson, go to the registration desk and find her. Ferguson approached her at the registration desk, handed her a slip of paper with Clinton’s resting number on it, and told her, “The Governor wants to see you.”

Ferguson led Jones to the door of an upstairs room and left. Jones knocked on the door and entered the room on her own, and then the alleged sexual harassment case that has since been the subject of much debate throughout the United States took place. According to Jones’ statement, Clinton verbally teased her, then placed his hand on her thigh and slid it up her thigh to the “mystery spot” above it, then hugged Jones and kissed her neck. Jones broke away and ran to the other couch.

However, Clinton followed her to the couch, leaned in close to her, asked her if she was married, and other questions, while unzipping his pants, displaying his erect penis, and asking Jones to “kiss it”. Jones stated that she was so horrified that she stood up, said she was not that kind of girl, and left.

Three years later, on May 6, 1994, three years and two days after the incident, Jones filed a formal lawsuit against Clinton in the Federal District Court in Little Rock, Arkansas, seeking $700,000 in damages and a public apology.

Three months after Jones filed his formal charges in court, Clinton’s lawyers also filed a complaint with the Federal District Court in Little Rock, asking the court to: first, suspend Jones’ lawsuit until after Clinton left the White House and stepped down from the presidency; second, or suspend the case until after Clinton finished his term of office; third, or cancel the case; third, or cancel the case. the end of Clinton’s presidency; and third, or to dismiss the case.

Clinton’s lawyers and some constitutional scholars reasoned: first, according to the U.S. Constitution, the federal courts should avoid the President of the United States to appear in court for lawsuits, which is the executive prerogative of the President; second, as the President of a country, Clinton has too much business to appear in court every day, and if that would seriously affect the affairs of the country and harm the national interests; third, if this precedent is set, there will be more women who will accuse Clinton later on, because the President must appear in court, the media will follow the accuser, and the accuser will make a big name for himself. President has to appear in court, the media will follow the story and the accuser will make a big name for it. This will lead to many women using this tactic to “drag” the president to court to make themselves famous overnight.

At the end of the year, Susan Webb, a female judge in the “federal district court” in Little Rock, was arrested. Weber. Wright ruled against Clinton’s lawyer’s request to “cancel the case”, but also rejected Jones’ request for an immediate hearing, and decided to accept the case, but postponed until after Clinton left the White House.

Neither the plaintiffs nor the defendants were satisfied with this decision and appealed to the United States Court of Appeals for the Eighth Circuit in St. Louis.

Sources indicate that the Circuit Court of Appeals is expected to issue a ruling in the near future.

Whether the Jones case is true or not is not something I want to discuss. But from what I know about Clinton, I think it’s probably true. Taking out his genitals and letting women “kiss it” seems to be Clinton’s “hobby”. But whether or not this case constitutes sexual harassment is debatable.

The first thing I’ve talked about before is whether Jones had any knowledge of Clinton’s invitation and attempts to do so, as that has been talked about earlier and will not be repeated here. Secondly, why would Jones raise this issue three years after the fact? Three years ago, when there was a lot of buzz about Clinton’s sex scandal, would it have been more appropriate to file a lawsuit at that time?

The fact that this issue is being raised three years later cannot but bring into consideration the fact that Clinton’s term of office is about to expire, and there are a lot of eyes on the question of whether or not he can be reelected, and many of them are trying to make a killing in this regard.

Honestly, at the most tense time of the campaign, and because of two big cases following it, if there is another case of some kind of sex scandal, then his presidential luck is really at an end.

But on the other hand, I have to admit that both Clinton and I are a bit lustful.

Because of these reasons, as much as I would like to have more contact with him, I can’t help but restrain myself and cause as little trouble out of him as possible. I think that’s what I should do for him if I have any feelings for him at all.

A week later on Sunday, that afternoon, I was in my apartment chatting with a friend on the internet when it showed that a call had been inserted. Normally, I don’t usually answer these kinds of calls, but at the time, for some reason, I just had a hunch that the call was probably from Clinton, and it seemed to me that he would be calling me or trying to get an appointment to see me one of these days.

As expected, the call was really from him. It was the first time he had ever called me, and the unpleasantness that had arisen last time because he had forgotten my name and lost my phone number had immediately dissipated.

The fact that he was able to take the initiative to call at least shows that he still has me in his heart, and at the same time, it shows that the relationship between us, has taken another step forward.

“What are you doing, big handsome?” I asked.

“I’m on my way to the office.” He said.

“To the office? That place seems a little too big and lonely, do you need a companion?”

“Oh, that’s so nice.” He responded.

So we started talking about some specifics of going to the White House, and he came up with the idea for me that I could accidentally walk by his office pretending to be delivering a document, at which point he’d open the door to his office and offer to call me in.

Almost as soon as I put the phone down, I started nervously freshening up. Since it was Sunday and I had been staying at home, not even bothering to leave the house, I guess I looked a little lazy and looked as if I was disheveled. I had to present myself to him in a way that would stand out very much. It might seem silly, a man of Clinton’s age not really caring about a young woman’s make-up and attire, but I wanted to look good so that when he saw me, he would always be pleasing to the eye and always be filled with sexual urges.

I knew that Clinton must have done a lot of work for this meeting, because when I entered the White House, no one asked for my credentials or even questioned me as well as asked to record the time of entry. In this way, I have not entered the White House, even if there is any trouble later, we can use this, for example, as happened in Arkansas, there is a certain agent accused Clinton and I have something to do, then, the White House records are the best refutation of evidence. Clinton could then say, “That’s not true, Monica did go to the White House because she was on the White House staff, and she was in the old office building for a couple of months while she was an intern.

As I approached the Oval Office, I saw that it was Federal Agent Fox Sr. on duty at the door. I had dealt with Fox on a few occasions during my internship in the old office building, and he seemed to remember me. I took the initiative to greet him, and yes, he did remember me, and he said to me, “Hello, Monica. I think Mr. President is waiting for you, do you need to come in?”

I later learned from the Starr Report that Clinton had given Fox a special greeting before that. Later, when he testified about this, he said, “The President of the United States of America came out, and he asked me, ‘Do you see any young congressional staffers?’ I replied, ‘No, sir, I have not.’ He said, ‘Well, I expect one will come.’ He said, ‘Can you let me know when they show up?’ I said, ‘Yes, sir.'”

As I was chatting with Fox, Clinton walked out the door and greeted us carelessly as if to join our chat.

“Hi Monica, haven’t seen you in a while, doesn’t look like you’ve been too busy?”

I quickly said, “Oh yes, Mr. President, I just have something to deliver, nothing special.”

“Wish to come in and sit down and visit my office?”

“Great.”

“Come in, then!”

The play between us was very successful, at least I think so.

After walking into the president’s office, we sat side by side on the couch, he asked me what I needed to drink, I asked for a cup of coffee, and then we started chatting. There was nothing substantial, pure banter, in fact, I would have liked him to ask me some substantial questions, that at least shows that he cares about me, and not just about my sexy lips and my full breasts.

On several occasions, I tried to steer the conversation toward that, but Clinton seemed to be very good at capturing the mood of the conversation, and he always very appropriately sidetracked the topics he didn’t want to cover. As a result, at that point, we had been talking for almost thirty minutes, but arguably not even one serious sentence.

At the same time, he seemed to sense my intentions and started getting into conversations about sex.

He hugged me tightly, kissed me deeply, and told me that I fascinated him, and that he savored every minute and every second of our time together. Of course, this was an office, someone could come in at any time, and it seemed a bit too “transparent” for us to stay in here for too long. So we quickly moved on.

Clinton took my hand and walked into the den and then into the bathroom, a perfectly safe place where we didn’t have to worry about anything.

So, we started kissing frantically, and he unhooked my tunic with great ease, and completely undid my bra. This time, to make it easier for him, I wore a bra that clasped in the front, so he didn’t have to run my bra up above my breasts, he just had to undo the front clasp, and the bra would come loose, and my entire breasts would be exposed to him.

He took my breasts in both hands. Although my breasts were big, they didn’t seem so big when he held them in his big hands. He squeezed and kneaded them so hard that the nipples protruded forward and he took them in his mouth and sucked on them.

I certainly knew what I had to do at this point, and without him having to give any hints, I had already slipped my hand inside his pants and pulled his cock out, rubbing it gently in my hand.

On that occasion, he seemed to take a sudden interest and offered to kiss my pussy. He said that he had never been able to make me feel sexual pleasure, and that this time, he was going to accomplish this so that I would get to know him and know that he was a very good at what he did and could do.

To this, I didn’t answer immediately, but just looked at him and smiled.

“What are you laughing at? Think I can’t?”

I said: “I know you’re good, you’re better than all the men. But I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you today, I’m just in the middle of a very bad time.”

“Are you sure?”

I said, “Let me help you.”

He didn’t object, so I knelt down and took his shaft in my mouth.

I had thought that something had changed this time, and that he would let me finish it. But in fact, he still hadn’t completely relaxed his guard, or rather, he still felt that I hadn’t reached a point where he was completely convinced. Again, at the last minute, he pushed me away.

I make no secret of the fact that there is something in my heart that doesn’t sit well with me, and that his lack of trust is hurtful to me. But I couldn’t do anything about it, his identity was too special and it was an extremely sensitive time, I could understand his caution.

Then we went back to his office once again and continued the pointless conversation we had just had. He seemed to be suddenly addicted to cigarettes, so he went to his desk, picked up a cigar, lit it and took a couple of puffs, then he seemed to suddenly have an idea of what to do, looked at the cigar and then at me, with those very odd eyes, I had never seen him look at anyone with those eyes before.

I think I can understand his mental activity in that moment, he was already a bad boy and bad boys always have bad thoughts. I’ll bet anyone that he had some bad, bad thought, and a very erotic one at that. Perhaps he was thinking about my last comment about cigars?

So I said to him, “You don’t have to rush, handsome, one day we can do that.”

He looked at me and giggled, a grin that was definitely one of those bad boy grins.

At that time I thought to myself: God, if this kid did not become the President of the United States, but for some reason, he became another person, what would he be in the end? Would he be a Hollywood porn star? I was amused by this sudden thought that came to me. In my opinion, that was really a good idea, if he really became a third grade movie star, he would definitely charm the whole of America.

He asked me, “What’s on your mind? Can you make me smile too?”

I said, “Why didn’t you want to be a movie star in the first place?”

“I know what you’re thinking.” He said.

“Think what?” I asked.

He didn’t answer my question directly, but said, “You know, I’m not like that at all, I’m a serious person.”

I realized that he had really guessed my heart because it occurred to me that if he became a movie star, I wondered if those crazy Hollywood bashful bitches would eat him up.

In fact, I’m definitely not satisfied with this kind of rambling conversation, I’d rather have even a little bit of something substantial between us, such as him telling me that between them, it’s definitely not just sex, but we have something else, such as we love each other, trust each other and so on.

I had a feeling that my relationship with Clinton was no longer the purely sexual kind; we seemed to be becoming a long-term fixture. I always knew he was a bad boy, a womanizer. I think those rumors about him weren’t bad; he was that kind of guy. As such, I was also quite convinced that he would have a few more regular girlfriends, and that he would arrange for one of them to come to him and quench his sexual hunger when he needed it.

Now, however, I felt as though it wasn’t so much that he didn’t seem to have the kind of girlfriend I thought he did, which was indeed somewhat unusual for a bad boy. At the same time I felt that it was equally very unusual for me. He seemed to have an intention to fix our relationship in some sense and have something come of it.

I’m not completely repulsed by such a thing, but I think he has to at least give me a statement.

I’ve always felt that I’m not the kind of woman who can play sex games all the time, and I’m often in over my head.

As it turns out, there have been a few times already when I shouldn’t have gotten overly involved, but I was foolish enough to do so, and I am really prone to fantasizing and being easily impressed by my own feelings. I can’t face a man I like and tell him that I really can’t be in love with him, that I’m just obsessed with his sex organ and that’s why I do so many things with him.

No, I could never say something like that. As far as I’m concerned, it’s either one night of pleasure and then go your separate ways with no ties to each other, and that kind of relationship I think I can live with. But if we’re going to keep the relationship going, then it has to be a division, even if it’s just a mistress.

Yes, even if only as a mistress. I know very clearly that Hillary is a very powerful woman, and if I were to run against her, even if I had the advantage of youth, I am not necessarily confident that I would be a match for her.

Meanwhile, with Clinton, I had gradually escalated from my initial infatuation, and I think I did quietly fall in love with him, and I wanted to have a wonderful relationship with him.

If he and I are not destined to be husband and wife, then having a wonderful relationship, that is probably the best option and the last kind of option that doesn’t hurt each other. I’ve already had the experience of trying to take someone else’s wife in my place, and that’s not a good memory for me, and I don’t want the same thing to happen to Clinton, and I don’t want the day to come when I have to go to court with Clinton because of a relationship like some other women. I think I will eventually grow old later than Clinton. In his twilight years, I think I may have the opportunity to be on his side and write a book about our relationship. We’ll have to return history to its truth at that point.

The idea was indeed very wonderful, but what Clinton really thought of me, I actually didn’t even know half of it, he never talked about it, he never even asked what kind of person I was, what kind of experiences I had, and what kind of family I had, all of my everything and nothing seemed to be his concern. It wasn’t like the lover I had in mind, no, he was someone who didn’t care about me at all, all he cared about was my sexy looks. If that were true, it would be a great tragedy for me.

No way. I must find a chance to ask him this kind of question, and without a clear answer I think it will be very difficult for me to spend any more time with him.

The following Sunday I went to the White House again, and I remembered, of course, that Clinton had said that he would be a little clearer on weeknights, and that there wouldn’t be too many people at the White House. That was certainly true on Sunday, and in fact, I had sensed when I arrived at the White House the previous Sunday that this was the perfect day to come to Clinton if I wanted to.

This time, we didn’t really have an appointment, except that the last time we parted, I mentioned it so lightly that he admitted it was a good idea.

But in reality, I knew that because this Sunday had been unscheduled by Clinton, my precipitous arrival seemed somewhat inappropriate, and the plan I was attempting to achieve did not even have a chance to be carried out at all, because he was not sure whether I would actually come or not, and therefore had made some other arrangements, and it was those arrangements that cut short our Sunday. Like the previous Sunday, I deliberately chose a particular time to enter the White House to avoid leaving a record at the Population Office. I was actually there early and waited in secret at the elevator that the President must use to get from his quarters to the Oval Office. I knew that he usually used to come to his office in the afternoon.

However, his visit to the office that day seemed to be delayed and I spent a long time hiding in that area. That really wasn’t a good feeling, to be spotted at any moment, to be ready to spot someone you shouldn’t meet at any time. It was a good thing that it was a Sunday and there weren’t too many people in the area, otherwise, there would have been at least a couple hundred people who would have seen me sneaking around that area.

Around 3:30 or so, Clinton finally appeared at the elevator entrance, alone, so I quickly appeared at his side.

“Hello, am I welcome?” I asked.

He turned around and saw me, seemed a little surprised, and asked, “What did you get out of?”

“I’m a ghost.” I said, “I’m following you.”

“Well then, Ms. Spooky, I’m going to my office now, will you go?”

We then walked together towards his office. Once inside the office, I started to follow my plan. Right now, we were the only two people here, and even if someone outside the window or somewhere else saw us together, they wouldn’t think about what the issue we were talking about would be.

I said, “We’ve been in a relationship for three months.”

He seemed a little frozen, stopped, turned his head to look at me, but didn’t say anything.

I didn’t care about him, I had to finish what I was going to say as quickly as possible, otherwise, I don’t think I would have had the courage to go on as long as he was looking at me with that very keen gaze “You have never asked me any questions about me. What do you really think, I wonder? Do you think that between us, it’s just sex?

I’d like you to tell me if it’s sex you’re interested in, or if you’re trying to understand me on a human level?”

He smiled at me and said, “Don’t you know? I treasure the time we spend together.”

Cherish the time you spend together? What does that even mean? It seems a bit strange, and I can’t understand it. Is he saying this to show an attitude, or is he avoiding the question I want him to answer by saying this? If that’s the case, I guess I should really feel sad. I don’t want more from him than what I want, and that, I think, is what he should give me. Anyways, I just want him to face up to my place in his life. He can’t make love to me on one side and treat me like a complete stranger on the other, that would be extremely unfair to me.

I said, “I don’t think you know me at all, and you don’t seem interested in knowing me…”

By this time, we were in the hallway leading to the study, and without letting me finish my sentence, he very suddenly hugged me and gagged me with his lips.

It was true, I realized immediately, that he really didn’t want to hear that, or rather, he didn’t want to know me at all. I was, as I thought, just a tool for his pleasure, and had no other significance for him than that. At that moment, I felt such a deep sadness that I think I almost wanted to cry out.

I don’t want this ambiguity, I need at least an acknowledgement.

I want to say to him that this is very unfair to me. If I ask a lot from him, he may feel difficult because he can’t handle it. But in reality, I’m asking for very little, just his eyes, his identification with me. I don’t expect him to think that we have any hope of coming together, and even if he did say that, and I think it would have to be a lie, at least right now, while he’s still trying to get reelected to the presidency, he’s going to need Hillary, and only Hillary can possibly help him reach that same dream. That, I think I am quite aware of, and I wouldn’t hold it against him in that regard.

Yes, I know I won’t go overboard, I just want him to face me squarely.

He kissed me and pulled my skirt upward, revealing my panties underneath and my bra-clad breasts. Then he unhooked the bra and began to fondle and kiss my breasts.

“God, that’s what he needs. In his mind, I am this need of his. I almost think very desperately.”

At the same time, I also know that I can’t put too much pressure on him, he is not an ordinary person after all, he can’t be like those ordinary people who give quick answers to whatever I ask. He needs to consider many more things than I do, so I should give him time and a chance.

I had only two choices, either to leave him resolutely or to give him a chance to think about the question I had just raised. In fact, I know very well that if I were to make up my mind to leave him, I would not be able to do so. I really began to fall in love with him gradually, and I began to feel that he occupied an extremely important position in my heart and in my life. A position which no one, whatever, could ever replace. If you compare him with Bernard, I know that he is much more important than Bernard.

This is a very real problem I face, whether he accepts me or not, or looks me squarely in the eye, but it is no longer possible for me to walk away from him without any great power, and I will still be swayed by his mind, by his eyes, as if I were mesmerized by something. That power that characterized him would always hold sway over my life.

Perhaps what was happening between us was just a little too surreal, and I felt both that it was actually a dream and that it was very much like being in a fairy tale, where everything seemed impossible and yet everything was happening and would continue to happen.

Clinton unzipped his pants chain and pulled that part of him out of it. When it appeared in front of me, proudly and stubbornly standing upright, I knew immediately that it was all fate, that I was destined to have an entangled relationship with Clinton, that it was destined to have a kind of attraction for me that I simply could not resist. I thought I had met the monarch of my life, but my monarch was not Clinton, but the god of life, the arrogant and unbeatable guy standing in front of me.

I bent down and knelt before it like a faithful servant, not knowing what else I could or should do except to caress it and make it happy. At that moment, it was dominating my mind, dominating everything I did. It was just too tall and powerful for me not to submit to it, not to be loyal to it, not to be most satisfied with its fulfillment.

It stood erect in front of me, the smooth part pressing against my face, and I rubbed my own lips over it, sticking out my own tongue and licking over the irregular globes swollen with engorgement, the mushroom cloud of life spreading its beautiful umbrella in front of me. I took it into my own mouth, feeling it throb with joy in my mouth as a power emanated from within it and was feeding into me. My whole body was quickly filled with this power and my life cells then began to dance with joy.

It was the joyous time of my life, my breasts being caressed open and kissed by him while I did my best to bring joy to the root of his life. I had only one thought, if I could make him happy, that was actually my pleasure.

But this time was all too brief, and we were soon interrupted by an unexpected event, prisoner to the fact that we heard a sound as if an artificial person was coming in towards the Oval Office.

Clinton, visibly startled, hastily pulled his cock out of my mouth and shoved it back inside his pants, then quickly zipped it up and and headed out the door. I saw him seem to press his hand down in front of his face as he walked away; it must have been that the little guy wasn’t listening too well, and he was trying to tame it that way so that it would save face for him for at least ten minutes or so.

It wasn’t long before he walked back in.

It was evident to me that his little fellow was not obeying, and was at the moment like a child who wishes to eat but does not get his food, holding his head high and screaming defiantly, with some part of his pants pushed up by it like a hill, and it occurred to me that he might well have just walked up to someone in this way, which was ridiculous, and seemed to be a statement to the visitor: I want you!

Geez, if it had been a lady, she would have been so scared she couldn’t have run for her life! Who’s to say that if she’d been slower, his bullets wouldn’t have gone right through her pants and into her? It would be impossible to tell if the spray splattered down her skirt.

It would have been funnier if it had been a man, who probably thought that this Mr. President was a homosexual! Otherwise, why would he get an erection when he saw him? Besides, he seemed to be in a hurry, so he was just ready to go! How could these ladies and gentlemen know that their unexpected intrusion had forced the President to hide his penis in a panic?

It was so funny and entertaining that I couldn’t help but laugh and said to him, “Oh my God, what are your pants made of? Will not be stretched out, right?”

He glanced down at his bottom, then laughed. “I can’t help it, this guy is just so naughty, sometimes, I can’t discipline him.” He said.

I walked up, grabbed the guy that was sticking up, and said to him, “Maybe, I can do something about it. Do you want me to try?”

He kissed me on the forehead and said, “I’d love that, but I’m sorry, baby, I’m afraid I can’t today.”

I looked at him with some surprise. What did “not today” mean? Wasn’t it a sign of need? What kind of man was he? He was able to restrain himself and tell me “I’m afraid I can’t do it today” when he needed it so badly.

He then told me that today was a bit of a shame because he had an early appointment with a friend from Arkansas who had already arrived at the White House. He led me out of the Oval Office and into the office of the Deputy to the President and White House Chief of Staff, Ms. Nancy B. Henrich, and there he stopped and he gently hugged me. He took me out of the Oval Office and into the office of the Vice President and White House Chief of Staff, Ms. Nancy Henrich, and stopped there, where he gently hugged me and kissed me goodbye.

“I’m very sorry, sweetie.” He said, “I’ll call you next week.”

I suddenly felt a very urgent need for an appointment next week, and I couldn’t keep waiting for him in my own apartment, that was just too far away, so I told him, “I may be in my office next week, you can call my office number if you’re really sure you need it.”

For this appointment, I arrived at my office before noon and did something random while waiting for the phone to ring. It was around 3:20 when the phone on the desk in front of me rang, and I picked it up with little thought.

“Hello, I’m Monica B. Lewinsky.” I said into the microphone.

“Hello, sweetie.” He said, “Can you come over to my place for a minute?”

“I was hoping for that. How am I supposed to get there? On an airplane?”

“That doesn’t seem like a good idea.” He said.

“I do have an idea.”

“Say it so I can hear it.”

I told him that I would be in front of his office in a few minutes and that he could walk out at that time, act like he had something to do, and then happen to run into me in the hallway. We greeted each other and then he invited me in. It would look like an accidental encounter, not something that one would expect to be premeditated. It was better that way, I thought.

In fact, every time we have met, there has been some premeditation or a deliberate attempt to avoid some people.

However, we seem to be a little too naive, thinking that what we do is so secret that it is unlikely to be known by others. In fact, after reading the Starr Report, I had a rude awakening. My God, it seemed that the whole White House knew about us, even old Fox, the retiring security guard, knew that I was often with the President.

Does this need to be justified? Doesn’t it speak volumes that an intern or a low-level White House staffer repeatedly moves around the West Wing of the old building, repeatedly has “accidental encounters” with the President, and repeatedly receives “invitations” from the President? When things happen to oneself, one often fails to see their reality. I think that if it was not me but someone else who was involved in this incident, and I was just a bystander like other people, I think I would be able to judge what was going on as well. The problem is that when it comes to my own head, I get confused and end up performing that kind of self-deception again and again.

In this respect, Clinton also behaved like a child, and he also seemed to believe that these methods were feasible, or perhaps he simply knew that he had no way to avoid people’s ears, and he had no intention at all of avoiding them. He did it because he was happy to play this game of hide-and-seek with a little girl, and because he wanted to give me a little sense of security. Among those sexual rumors I’ve read about him, Clinton is portrayed as a child who has no qualms about satisfying his sexual desires. Among the sex rumors that came out when he was running for president a few years ago was the claim that he openly chased women around his campaign team when he was running for governor, avoiding Hillary alone in the matter. Another story said that he went so far as to not even spare Hillary’s female secretary, that was literally flirting with other women in front of Hillary It seems that this bad boy is indeed capable of doing anything, if he wants to.

Everything went just as we had scheduled, and Clinton happened to be coming out of his office just as I was walking down the hallway in the West Wing.

“Hi Monica, you look great today.”

I said, “You seem better, I think you’re thirty?”

We blinked our own eyes at each other as we said this, both because we were so excited and also because we thought it was just a little bit fun to be a part of such a little ruse.

“I’m having a bit of a free moment, do you need to come in and have a seat?” He offered an invitation.

I then followed him into his office. This time, we didn’t stop at his office, but headed straight for his private study, and on the walkway, he started to move, wrapping one arm around my waist and pulling me into his arms, kissing me deeply.

Today I am wearing a long skirt, is the kind of chest with a row of buttons long skirt, if you take off this long skirt, inside only the bra and panties left, I admit that I have a purpose to choose this long skirt, on the one hand, because this long skirt will make me look more voluptuous and sexy, and on the other hand, because it is very convenient, if Clinton wants to see my “Lushan real face “If Clinton wants to see my true colors, this dress will definitely help him a lot, and it will make what that bad boy wants to do look much simpler.

After we kissed, he really started to notice the long skirt and asked, “Let me guess, what’s in it?”

I said, “If you really wish to know, then why don’t you open it yourself?”

“That’s a good idea.” He said, literally making a move to unbutton me.

There were just a little too many of those buttons, and he seemed a little clumsy under this thing, so I had to do him a favor and start undoing those buttons from the other side.

The long skirt was undone, and he didn’t seem to be ready to take it off, but pulled it to the sides so that it rested on my wrists, and now I was pretty much exposed to him except for the almost transparent panties and the backless bra. He undid my bra and removed it, setting it aside so that my entire chest was completely exposed to him. At first, he hadn’t taken off my panties yet, and I thought that he would be uninterested in the area below my panties, as he had been before. But in fact, it didn’t take him long to remove it. He seemed to want to experience the difference in sensation between touching my pussy through my panties as well as touching it directly, and I thought to myself, “Of course, that’s totally different, and as long as he really feels it with his heart, he’ll be able to understand that right away.

This was the sixth time skin-to-skin contact had been made between us, but there hadn’t been a time when he’d ever paid so much serious attention to me, or when he’d stripped me so thoroughly. The first few times, we seemed to be in a great hurry, as he either undid my blouse to expose my breasts, or smoothed my skirt over my shoulders. Only this time did he seem to be particularly aroused, and for a time he took a slight half-step backward, staring intently at my body with those particular eyes of his.

I remembered that he had commented on my breasts before, but then I felt that it was a bit perfunctory, like the kind of polite compliments, but this time, after observing them very carefully, he commented on them once again, saying that my breasts were very well-born, with the shape of a pear, and that the nipple part curved up in a very moderate arc, and that the plumpness wasn’t too excessive either. He said, there is a kind of women, when you look at them from the outside, you will think that they have a pair of very charming breasts, but if you let them take off their clothes, you will be very sick to your stomach, that part of their body, if it is not too loose, or the shape of the shape is too ugly, it is like an extra mass of fat, and it is difficult to even tell what kind of shape it is. What is even more disgusting is that some women even both sides of the breasts alone look very beautiful, but if the whole look, you will find that the original is different, the two sides are not symmetrical.

He commented on my breasts: full, compact, straight, smooth and beautiful lines, the bottom of the circle is very regular, as if with a compass  out of the general, and the top of the nipple part, the size of the right, and the whole skin color is very white, shining with a translucent luster.

I’ve long said that he’s an absolute connoisseur when it comes to women, and he can instantly tell what’s so wonderful about you just by looking at you.

After savoring my breasts, he went on to comment on my belly. He said that people generally like women with small tummies, so women are desperately trying to lose weight in order to minimize the fat in their tummies. In fact, how do they know that a woman’s belly is the most beautiful part of a woman’s body, just like their breasts, the lines as well as the degree of fullness reflect a kind of sexiness, and even their sexual desire. Women who have small stomachs must not be very active, because their stomachs do not have the strength to be more active. On the other hand, men actually like the feeling that the roundness of a woman’s belly brings them, because when making love in the normal position, the belly is the closest place of contact, and will bear more weight than other places. At this time, the softness and fullness of the belly, for men, is very important.

“I always knew that you were a bad boy.” I said.

“You’re wrong, I’m a connoisseur.” He said.

“Lovely connoisseur, would you care to appreciate the other part?” I said with a bit of teasing and an intentional glance toward my own triangle.

“Save the good stuff for later.”

With that, he walked towards me, slipped his hands inside his shirt, hugged me right up to my skin, and started kissing me on the lips, and then slowly worked his way back down to my breasts. Probably because he was so tall, he would have had to crouch down if he kissed my breasts face to face. So, he turned himself sideways so that he could easily take my breasts in just by bending his body sideways. And one of his hands went to my lower part, stroking my pussy through my panties.

While he was doing that, I pulled the zipper of his pants and helped him release the little guy.

As my hand gently stroked his cock, he began to feel aroused and moaned softly, his body writhing slowly and rhythmically.

His hand also began to move a little further, as he moved away from my pussy and wandered around the small of my back before plunging into my panties and reaching all the way down. He made his way smoothly through the overgrown thatch of my triangle and went straight to the core, and while he had caressed my sex before this, it had been through my panties, and the sensation was vastly different, and while I felt pleasure, the same kind of special arousal, the sensation came on very slowly. It was like a man who wanted to climb up a mountain, but that mountain was so steep that neither his hands nor his feet could make any effort, and everything that he had, had a feeling of hanging in the air, a feeling of diaphragm, a feeling of not being grounded. But now it was different, his hands were solid, his touch mold was solid. Yes, he was indeed a master of flirting, he knew very well the sexy parts of a woman, and knew exactly how to make that part get the fullest stimulation.

It was the first time he had directly touched my labia as well as my clitoris, and the sensation was so new and exciting that I don’t even know if I was that easily satisfied or if he was just too good at what he did. No, I’m not really sure how it all happened, the only thing I can remember is that when his fingers touched my clitoris, I immediately felt a very strong electric shock. Then I felt as if hundreds of thousands of pumps were pumping water or some very special substance into my body that I couldn’t even begin to describe, so that my body was rapidly filled with that substance and immediately burst open.

A special kind of pleasure that quickly and violently hit every part of my body, and I climaxed for the first time since I’d been with this bad boy.

Nice, the fact that I finally had an orgasm with him shows a very important fact that he is getting closer to me, or we are getting closer to each other. It was definitely a good start, or a leap forward in our relationship since the beginning. I think I was indeed unusually aroused, and this arousal was not only brought on by my own sexual pleasure, but also by the emotional factor.

“Does it feel good?” He asked gently.

Good, of course, simply great, I was a little unable to contain myself and was tempted to will let him complete a penetration. But as I was about to do so, he grabbed my head and pressed down hard. I realized that he still didn’t think it was at that very trusting level yet, which was a bit of a bummer.

Probably because of the sensory shift, my desires were more or less affected and I decided to stop thinking about my own feelings and instead bent on doing for him what he wanted me to do.

Afterward, we walked into the Oval Office together and sat on the couch in the office. Clinton walked over to his desk, lit up a cigar, then walked over to me, sat down across from me, and said to me, “Well, baby, now I’ve got just a little bit of time.”

I thought at once that this was his answer to my last offer to “try to understand me,” and the fact that he had given me such an opportunity showed that he really wished to understand, and not in a superficial way, for he could pretend to forget the events of the last week, and I was sure that, if he did not mention it, I could never bring up the old subject again. once more the old story. The fact is, he has now shown that he understands my wishes, and whether or not he has come to this decision after a week’s thought, he has after all decided. I think that if he had thought about it for a week, it would be an even stronger indication that I was, in fact, very important in his mind. The reason why he took a week to think about it instead of choosing to answer immediately had nothing to do with feelings, but something else was at work, and I think that I was clear about those other things affecting him, and I think that I was able to understand them as well.

The rest of the conversation was very pleasant, no longer just about boring issues, or even some very erotic ones, like the previous times. I wasn’t interested in those questions at all, I was interested in whether he cared about me and had a desire to get to know me. At the same time, I was also interested in him, and if he was willing to open up to me, I would be even more excited and happy.

I think we had a conversation that lasted maybe forty-five minutes, maybe a little bit longer, maybe a little bit shorter, and it was mostly me talking about, I was talking about my childhood and my teenage years, and life in Beverly Hills, and everything that happened after my parents’ divorce. I think I must have been very emotional when I talked about the impact of my parents’ divorce, and I’m sure that Clinton, who also had the experience of his parents’ divorce, didn’t have too good an impact on him either.

At that time, he took the initiative to walk towards me and took me in his arms and said to me, “Baby, this is so sad. I didn’t realize that you seemed so innocent and carefree. If you hadn’t mentioned it, I would have thought that you had been raised in a very beautiful and warm family.”

His words just hit me so hard, I think I wept in his arms.

Of course, we also talked about our relationship, and I think he once told me that his life was not as good as outsiders thought, that everyone has their own problems, and that he was currently facing a re-election campaign, but he was not sure whether he would win. He even feels a sense of fear about what might happen in the next few months. He says he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses the election, and he doesn’t even know how he’ll face his family. This was the first time he had mentioned his family, but it wasn’t said too clearly, unlike a later time, which was after the election, when he successfully secured his seat in the White House again, and he even hinted at the possibility that four years from now, he might divorce Hillary and find someone he really liked.

This time in the conversation, he showed more worry, for his mood at this time, I understand very well, I know that he has internal and external difficulties, his side, the state personnel is already enough to make him worry, at the same time, there are a lot of trouble always close to his side. The circuit court has not yet ruled on Jones’ sexual harassment lawsuit. I think if the circuit court insists that even the President should be bound by the law as a private citizen and not above the law, then he will be in even more trouble.

This possibility is not entirely absent, and the dominant opinion in the United States has been voicing the same voice, that the President should not enjoy any privilege in civil cases.

The New York Times, probably the most influential newspaper in the United States, has an editorial opinion that will make headlines in other tabloids for a week, and just four weeks ago it published an “editorial” on the subject, stating that “no citizen, not even a sitting president, is above the law. Above the law.” The Times said: “All Americans are equal before the law, which is ‘the mainstay of constitutional principle’.” The Washington Post also said: “President Clinton can not be above the law, should let Paula Jones and Clinton have a confrontation. Jones should be given the opportunity to go to court with Clinton.” The newspaper’s editorial added: “It would set a very bad precedent if private lawsuits unrelated to presidential business were delayed until after Clinton left office.” A poll conducted by The New York Times in conjunction with CBS Television Network showed that 68 percent of Americans believe the case should have been heard in court during Clinton’s presidency. Only 25 percent answered that it should wait until after Clinton leaves office, and another 7 percent had no opinion.

Almost all Americans believe that public opinion in these mainstream media outlets largely influences the courts in making decisions.

This whole thing, whether or not it’s being manipulated with his rivals, is undoubtedly and absolutely relevant to the general election that’s even coming up.

I said to Clinton, “Actually, you don’t have to worry, there are many people who are in your favor. At least, I will always be your supporter.”

This statement pleased Clinton, who asked me if I would still support him if he lost his re-election bid. I said, “Don’t worry, as I said, I will always support you. Whether you are a president, or a civilian, in my eyes, I have never actually thought of you as a president.”

He seemed surprised by that last statement: “Not as president? Then who do you think I am?”

I said, “In my eyes, you are just a man, a very handsome man, a man who makes me invest all my feelings.”

Once again he got excited and and hugged me once more.

When we parted, he looked very emotional, took my hand, kissed my arm, and said he would call me. I then asked him, do you know my phone number?

He said he put that note in a safe place and would never lose it again. I said, the safest place is your head.

“Well, I’ll keep it in the safest place possible.” He said.

I asked him to put it now and not wait because he has so much going on that he will probably forget it. I gave him my phone number and asked him to memorize it immediately. He memorized it a few times, and then he was able to say it very accurately. He seemed to be very happy, pointed to his head and said, “Now that I have placed it firmly, are you satisfied?”

I said, “I’m very satisfied.”

I was very satisfied indeed, and as I told Starr later, I thought that by this conversation our friendship had taken a great step forward and had blossomed into a beautiful and fascinating flower. We are much closer, meaning of course our hearts and not our flesh.

This was definitely not wishful thinking on my part, but a fact, as I quickly confirmed later.

It was that same day, about a couple hours after we met.

I got a call from him in my office, and he told me that he had made the call in order to test the accuracy of his memory, which proved to be quite good, and, he told me, that he was very pleased with the time we had spent together, which he said had been intoxicating.

Looking back on what happened, I realize that I wasn’t without any concerns about our relationship at the time, and that they were actually there all along, but that I was reluctant to face them, and preferred to believe in the feelings we had when we were together, rather than what was hiding behind them. Perhaps it was clear to me at the time that this relationship couldn’t be a very long-lasting one, and that one day, either I or Clinton would put an end to it, especially with Pool on all sides of the fence because of the election and the sexuality issue, which, I think, he’s likely to think about a lot more than I do. Since everything we have is in his hands, why not keep him in them for good.

At that point, it was actually pretty clear in my mind that between us, we each had our own duties, so to speak, and that it was his duty to think about how far we should go in our relationship (the reason I thought that should be his duty was because I knew, unequivocally, that it was definitely not something I could think about. I’ve already had that lesson, so I don’t want to get myself in too deep because of it.

Giving him the responsibility of keeping track of the whole thing would be absolutely beneficial to me), and all I need to think about is what I can do for him or for our relationship.

Certainly more than just sucking his cock, that is quite clear. It was up to me to make him understand that there was more I could do for him and more I could get out of him. In fact, there are some things that I’ve already started to do, and I’ve chosen to give him some gifts that I think are very special, such as a couple of ties that I once gave him.

In the past, in novels or movies, I often saw women giving men ties, and at that time, I could not understand why women were so keen on men’s ties. But now, I fully understand. When I saw Clinton appearing in a public place or on a TV screen, wearing the tie I gave him, my heart was immediately filled with a special warm feeling. I felt that it was no longer a tie, but an emotional attachment, and even felt that it was in fact me, and that I was wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him lovingly. I felt that every opening and closing of his lips was in fact a reciprocation of mine, that we were connected by an unseen chain of emotion, that we were giving each other kisses of our own and deriving pleasure from each other’s caresses.

Whenever this kind of footage comes my way, I can’t help myself a little bit, and that night I usually give Clinton a call to tell him how I felt when I saw those.

During that time, there weren’t too many opportunities for Clinton and I to meet with each other, usually it would be once a week, sometimes even two or three weeks, especially after l996, we met mostly on Sundays because then there were the fewest number of people walking around in the White House, and the likelihood of us being noticed was at a minimum.

Nonetheless, I didn’t feel empty in any way, but rather fulfilled. While I won’t deny that I was very eager to spend more time with Clinton, I also knew that he couldn’t possibly give me much time.

I remember talking to a friend, Nessa Bland, around that time. Brand talked about it.

The initial conversation certainly didn’t mention who the man I was talking about was, which I understood perfectly well; Clinton was a very special character and I could never reveal his identity.

I told Nessa that I had a special encounter with a married man. It seemed as if he was enamored of me, and we used to make love to each other secretly on Sundays, and then, we would caress each other.

Nessa knew something about my past, she was my other best friend, and sometimes she criticized me very directly. I remember vividly the first time I vaguely mentioned something about Clinton to him, she screamed, “Come on, Monica, why are you always hanging out with married men? I don’t understand what they have to offer you.”

I admit to saying that I don’t really understand it myself. However, I have tried to date unmarried men and even men of my own age, and the results were very disappointing. I told her that, in fact, when I was dating those married men, I absolutely did not realize their married status, I just felt that I was deeply attracted by the kind of mature charm in them, so I could not help it.

I told Nessa that this man was indeed a very special man, that he was different from all the men in the world, that he was unique.

Nessa said, “Every man cannot be the same as another man.”

“Yes, but he’s different, or he’s different in more ways than just that. He’s a special man, he’s a big guy.”

Nessa mistook my reference to a man’s genitals and said, “Monica, you’re making me laugh, I can’t believe you’re saying this. If I didn’t know you so well, I would have thought you were only twelve. What do you mean he’s a ‘big guy’? Do you realize that there has never been a single competition of that kind in the world? So where is the world’s number one again?”

“No, I mean he’s a big shot.”

Nessa seems to be getting the picture: “A big shot in the White House? Jesus, you’re not going to hang on to that Clinton guy, are you? Then your name will be written in American history.”

“I don’t know.” I said, “But I never thought of him as a big man, on the contrary, I thought of him as an ordinary man, a bad boy with a high sex drive. You know what a bad boy looks like, right?”

Some time later, when Nessa would call me, she would take the initiative and ask, “How is your bad boy doing? Is he still in love with you?” Or she might ask: “What about your big guy? Do you guys still spend a lot of time together?”

Whenever this happens, I answer her, “Yes, we are still seeing each other. However, he is too busy, you do not know how difficult it is for us to meet once. I doubt that I’m a highly trained FBI guy. Translation) guy. Sometimes, again, I feel like a thief who is sneaking into the White House, ready to steal America’s national treasure.”

I told Nessa about the time I went to see that bad boy, and after some warming up, I knew I had to get out of there, so I slipped out a side door. I thought that it was all seamless, but as I walked out, I realized with a jolt that there was a man standing there who seemed to be paying attention to what was going on in the office I had just walked into. I’m sure he immediately understood everything when he saw me. I was so nervous that I was practically dumbfounded and didn’t know what to do with myself.

I remember one time Nessa was surprised and asked, “Oh my God, Monica, are you telling me you had sex with that guy in the White House?”

I thought to myself, with a smug sense of satisfaction, that more than just a fence the size of the White House, I was in one of the most powerful offices in the United States, if not the world, within a fence. I don’t know if there has ever been such a precedent before me, but I am sure that even if there has been, it must not have been as many times as I have been, and just for that alone, American history can never forget this stroke. Of course, I couldn’t make it too clear to her, but I just said to her, “Can that be considered a thing? As far as I know, there are many people who do that.”

Nessa seemed very surprised, “Are you saying there were many of them? No, I don’t believe you’re talking about America, much less what happened inside the White House.”

During that initial period of time, I met with Clinton more frequently, so there were not too many opportunities to talk on the phone between us, and more often than not, I was chatting with some of my friends over the phone or through the Internet, and there were also times when I didn’t really want to hear other people’s voices, and so I typed into the computer what I wanted to say, and sent it through the Internet to the friends that I wished to deliver it to. This is my preferred method, because I am, after all, saying something extremely important to them, and it is something that should never be made known to certain people. It was safer to utilize email, at least I would know if what I was writing would be inappropriate in any way. If I found something like that, I could correct it before I sent it, but there was no way I could do that on the phone.

I remember many times talking to my friends about a point of view where I told them that I knew we had no future, so why didn’t I make the most of the present? I was telling the truth, and I had never, at least until then, thought that there had to be an end between us. But then at one point, Clinton had hinted to me that he might divorce Hillary after his four-year term was up, and that seemed to give me a glimmer of hope. I think he may have been trying to show me that we were not entirely without the possibility of having a future together.

If that were the case, I think I would be more than happy to do so. I’ve never denied that he is a special man in addition to being a great man, and he is always so fascinating.

Even now, after my relationship with Clinton has become a huge disaster, I often think of many things from that time. I wonder what the outcome would have been if he had not been the President of the United States, but an ordinary man. Would people still be interested in a strong relationship between two ordinary people? Or would people have thought that it was actually very normal, a common occurrence, and therefore would not have taken any interest in it?

To be honest, I still don’t understand why things have turned out this way between us. Perhaps Clinton understood, and that is why, on two separate occasions, he proposed to terminate his relationship with me, and at the same time, another possibility occurred to me, that he had in fact been feeling a particular kind of mental pressure, and that the pressure he felt during that period of time in February l996 was even greater.

It was this pressure that caused him to break up with me very much against his will.

IV. Lurking crises

The first time Clinton offered to break up with me was on President’s Day (Monday, February 19, a public holiday). On this day, I did not go to the office, but stayed in my apartment. I had also thought that it had been two weeks since Clinton and I had seen each other, and that, extrapolating from the past, he should have called me last Sunday or yesterday and invited me to meet him at the White House, but I had waited for him to call, and although the phone rang over and over again, it had not once been his.

I knew that he had not left the White House, and I was even sure that he should have stayed in his office today. I wished very much that I could call him, but I didn’t have that kind of permission, and if I did, it would probably cause a whole lot of trouble, and it was possible that he would terminate his relationship with me immediately out of annoyance.

In order to maintain our relationship, I had to restrain myself from any impulses, and savored the pain and suffering of anticipation alone. In my mind, I said over and over again to him, who I couldn’t even see, “Clinton, you bastard, haven’t you forgotten your little sweetheart? Don’t you want her to bring you joy? What the hell are you doing? Can’t you just pick up the phone in front of you? That way, your little darling could fly to you and meet you immediately.”

It was about one o’clock noon, or a little later, when my home telephone suddenly rang. I was almost immediately sure that it was must be Clinton calling, and at the time, I was in the middle of reading a book, when I threw the book aside and immediately rushed over to pick up the phone.

Sure enough it was him, but I didn’t expect it to be a very nasty call, his tone seemed very strange, not at all like the previous times he had called me, but like he was calling someone he hated or his enemy, it was a completely businesslike tone. He told me on the phone that he had a feeling of remorse for what had happened and that he felt that it could not go on. For that reason, he felt he had to give me a call and say he was sorry.

I realized that something must have gone wrong, otherwise he wouldn’t have made such a strange call. I asked him if something had gone wrong and he should have told me more clearly. But he replied that all in all, the matter was very complicated and he could not make it clearer over the phone. He had given serious thought to the matter and that was all the answer he could give me.

I’ll come to your office right away, we need to have a good talk. I said.

However, he said he wasn’t sure how much longer he would be in the office and that he had a lot to do.

After I ended the call, I had a feeling of abandonment, like when you once really liked a dress, but after using it a few times, you feel that it no longer suits you. It’s important to note that the dress didn’t belong to you, you never bought it, you didn’t get it because a friend gave it to you, in fact, you took it from the mall on a whim because you thought you liked it, something that shouldn’t have belonged to you in the first place. But then you said to the dress, “Now, you can go back to the window at the mall, I didn’t damage any part of you.

I couldn’t tolerate this ending, and I had to do something about it.

Even though Clinton didn’t want me to go to the White House, I had to meet him. I figured that since everything was over for us anyway, and there was absolutely no need for me to hide anymore, I was going to barge right into his office and make him give me an answer, a definite answer. I don’t want it to end just like that somehow and for no apparent reason, it wouldn’t be fair to me.

After arriving at the White House, I calmed down a bit, I was thinking about the possible consequences of my impulsive intrusion into his office, and if I would run into any trouble in the middle of the day and he would take it out on me, I would in turn be giving him a hard time. I knew, of course, that to break into the Oval Office without an invitation from the President and the normal formalities was a very serious matter, and that if I did get into any trouble I would never be able to stay in the White House or even appear there again, and that the White House would probably declare me persona non grata. I knew that the Deputy Chief of Staff for Operations in the Office of the Chief of General Staff, Englien. Ms. Lieberman never liked me, and I ran into her once in the old building after my internship at the White House was over, and she was very surprised at the time, and I even heard someone tell me that she had once told someone behind their back that I wasn’t fit to work in the White House, and she wasn’t sure what was going on. And it was she who was in charge of the security of the White House, and as long as she had a mind to do so, she could immediately tell that I was frequently in and out of the Oval Office, and it was because of that that Clinton specifically instructed me to avoid two people in particular when I went to meet with him, in fact, one of them was this Ms. Lieberman, and the other was Ms. Nancy B. Henrich, who was a member of the White House. Ms. Henrich.

If these two honorable and very serious ladies knew that I had broken into the Oval Office, there would be only one thing left for me to do: get the hell out of the White House.

But things have gotten so serious that I just won’t be satisfied if I don’t meet Clinton face-to-face.

What kind of bad idea is that bad boy up to? Is he really trying to swing me this way? Of course, I could do my best to be as calm as possible when meeting him. I also knew that I mustn’t mess with this master of the White House, or else there would be dire consequences.

After a couple of minutes of hesitation, I decided that I would go see him for once. Finally, I approached the Oval Office around two o’clock (or maybe a little earlier, when my mind was in such a mess that I had almost no concept of time at all). On duty at the door that day was a tall, skinny Hispanic plainclothes agent whom I had seen before but couldn’t remember his name, and I said to the plainclothes agent, “I have some material I’d like to show the President.”

I thought that there might be some trouble, or at least some obstruction, but in fact the doorway was so smooth that the plainclothes agent, without asking any other questions, knocked on the door of the Oval Office, and then opened that door and told Clinton that he had a visitor. He apparently got Clinton’s answer and invited me in and exited and closed the door.

“What the hell is going on?” I asked when I saw Clinton.

Clinton was sitting at her desk and immediately stood up and walked toward me when she saw me.

I thought that he might make some intimate gesture, as he had done on any of our previous occasions, and that he would take me by the hand and lead me into his private study, which was a good place to talk. But this time I was wrong, as if he had really made up his mind to break up, he just shook my hand and sat down in front of me, and told me that he had thought long and hard about it, and that he felt that the intimacy between us was inappropriate, and that it could become a problem for me as well as for himself.

I remember he said that he was in enough trouble now, that many people wanted to kill him, that the money of the American people had been spent on investigating him, and that some other people thought that if they took him to court, they would become famous and thus get great benefits. He didn’t want to comment on that, he just wanted to say that these were his own troubles, but he didn’t want me to get into any trouble because of him. He said that I was still very young, very naive and lively, and did not know how complicated the world was. He can’t be too selfish and think only of himself and his own needs his own feelings at the expense of me, he feels that he has a duty and a reason to be protective of me and at the present time all he can do is to put an end to his inappropriate relationship with me.

“No, I volunteered for all of this.” I argued, “No one can say anything about that, and I would never let anyone do that.”

“Some things don’t happen just because you don’t want them to.” He said.

“So what if it happens? I don’t even care, all I need is how I really feel, and what does it matter to me what people say?”

“Monica, calm down.” He said, “Maybe, you could care less, but I can’t, I can’t not think about something else.”

He probably thought that “something else” was too vague, so he added: “I can’t help thinking about you, that’s my duty and my conscience. Monica, I am very grateful for everything you have given me. I promise you, I will cherish it all. But it is true that we should end it, and believe me, it was probably more painful and difficult to make up my mind when I made that decision than what you are experiencing right now. But I can’t help that, I have no other choice.”

While this was going on, a phone call came in and he said to me to hold on a moment and got up to answer the call. It appeared to be from a sugar crop seed farmer in Florida, and Clinton chatted with the man for a few minutes.

While he was on the phone, I was thinking hard about the tough times I was facing.

Just now Clinton that some words, although the voice is not heavy, but the tone is very resolute, that makes me feel that he is really already not determined, I have already said, our relationship, all in his hands, our future is decided by him rather than by me to decide, and now, since he has made such a decision, what else can I say?

Even though I was beginning to decide this in my mind, I was still a little upset. As he put the phone down and came back up to sit in front of me, I decided I had to say something, and I would feel bad if I just walked out of the Oval Office.

“Really? Is this really the end for us? I can never call you handsome again, and you’ll never call me sweetie again?” I said.

“Please believe me, Monica, I don’t want to make that decision.”

I asked again, “So I’m never going to see you again?”

“You can be assured of that, we are still best friends, you can talk to me on the phone through Corrie or you can come and see me at the right time and I will be very welcoming as I have always been. As I said, we will always be friends, whether I am still the president or have become a pauper, we are still good friends, do you agree with me?”

At this point, I was really feeling that things were completely irreparable, and even if I stayed here for a longer period of time, it wouldn’t help. Now, I needed to get out of here as quickly as possible. I thought that if I were still sitting in front of him, I would not be able to control myself from jumping into his arms and crying in his embrace.

That could never happen because it was in the office of the President of the United States, and whatever was walking by outside the office, or that Hispanic plainclothes agent, could see what was going on inside. I’m pretty sure that if something like that did happen, it definitely wouldn’t have to wait until the day after tomorrow, the whole White House would know about it first thing in the morning.

I remember that I once had a conversation on the Internet, and after an Internet friend knew that I was an American, she complained to me, saying that she knew that the United States was a free and open country, that all people would not mind other people’s business, and that the Americans were the people who valued other people’s privacy the most in the world. She said that she had suffered a lot because her privacy was not protected. When I found out, I really didn’t know what to tell her. I am very glad that the United States has a good image in the world that even the Americans themselves are amazed at, but in fact, the laws of the United States may have once had provisions for the absolute protection of privacy, and it is true that justice can be done in the court of law in privacy-related cases. However, does justice in court represent justice in society? This is not the case. Often, when a privacy case is brought to the court, the result is known to all, and I wonder how many such cases there are.

Talking nonsense is probably a common bad characteristic of all races in the world! And Americans are especially good at it, because Americans may not be able to talk freely, but American newspapers can, and I don’t know how many rumors have been created from newspapers.

On this aspect, Americans often refer to a story that is cited as a do-over.

The third president of the United States, Thomas Jefferson, was a very famous and flirtatious president in history. Jefferson is a very famous in the history of the sleazy president, about Jefferson kept a mistress and gave birth to a bunch of illegitimate children for him news, very clamor “paper” on. Once, Jefferson in his office to receive a friend from France, the Frenchman saw Jefferson’s desk next to a large pile of newspapers, which published a lot of cursing, ridicule, and even life attacks on the article, the spearhead pointed directly at the incumbent president. This friend was very unfair to Jefferson, he was indignant he said, should be banned these nonsense newspapers. But Jefferson gave the Frenchman the papers and told him that if anyone had a problem with the freedom of the press in America, you show them these papers and tell them where you got them. Jefferson also said a quote that has been immortalized by Americans to this day: “Give me a choice between having a government without a press, and having a press without a government, and I will not hesitate to choose the latter.”

This statement, very clearly he states the freedom of the press in America. But he did not state how many people would become innocent souls under this freedom of the press, regardless of whether Jennifer or Paula Jones’ claims of having a special sexual relationship with Clinton or being sexually harassed by Clinton were true. Jones and Clinton on the special sexual relationship between or by Clinton sexual harassment is true, there is no doubt that the two women have become world-famous celebrities, almost overnight, they can be a straight-line rise in the family, there is news that Jones’s former boyfriend to take out a photo of Jones to sell to a magazine, the result of the fifty thousand dollars in compensation.

This is America for real. In the United States, every thing is valuable, and so is privacy, especially the privacy of those celebrities, such as political celebrities, economic celebrities as well as movie and television celebrities, depending on whether or not you will utilize these things to obtain rewards. The same thing, held in the hands of a certain person, that may be worthless, but if it is held by some other people, after some packaging, hype, it will simply be worth a lot of money.

If I had hugged Clinton in my office and cried in his arms, and such a thing became known to those in the Republican Party who opposed Clinton, it would have filled the pages of every major newspaper in the United States, at least before the election, with all sorts of force. It would fill the pages of every major newspaper in America.

With great effort I restrained myself and stood up to say goodbye to Clinton.

He came up and hugged me, but didn’t kiss me.

That already shows the difference. I thought to myself, yes, our relationship is, indeed, over, without any warning.

When I got back to the apartment, I think I had a big cry, and then, it seems, I called Kathryn. Davis made a call, maybe it was Nessa. Brand, I’m having a hard time determining which of the two of them it was now. I knew that they were both good friends of mine, and that they both knew about my affair with a “big married guy” in the White House, which we had talked about more than once before. Now, I needed an audience, and yes, I was very upset, and I needed someone to talk to. Only Kathryn or Nessa, of course, would be suitable, and the other suitable people would be the guys on the Internet, which is not a safe way to talk. But I preferred to tell it all to someone who knew me well.

“Just today, that handsome guy broke up with me.” I said.

My friend was very surprised to hear this news, it seemed to her that I had a very special relationship with the handsome guy I was talking about, just a short while ago I was telling them that our relationship had progressed very far, that he had touched my pussy with his hand and had given me an orgasm, and that I felt that between us, we were going to break through the bottleneck soon, and reach new horizons, and I didn’t think that a couple of days later I was going to I didn’t realize that a few days later, I would tell her that we had broken up, which sounded unreal.

“Are you kidding me?” She really didn’t want to believe him when he said, “I thought you guys went on vacation somewhere.”

“I really wish that was the case. But unfortunately, it’s all true. About an hour ago, perhaps a little earlier, I went to see him in his office. I’m sure he’s told me in no uncertain terms that from now on we can’t be as close as we used to be, but he’s agreed that we’ll still be good friends in the future, and that it’s still okay to call him and go see him.”

After hearing this, Catherine seemed to think for a while, and then said, “This shows that he actually doesn’t want to cut himself off from you, perhaps, he has some unavoidable reasons, but he doesn’t want to mention them to you. If you find that kind of reason, and can help him, let him through the difficult times, perhaps, you have a chance in the future.”

I really couldn’t believe it when I heard what she said. Is it true that she said we might have another chance later? Moreover, she also said that there had to be some kind of unavoidable reason, so what exactly was it?

I was thinking of several possibilities, like is it Hillary related?

Whether what we did in the White House could be completely hidden from Hillary, I am not too sure, if everything is really as rumored, Clinton has been trying to seduce the women around and Hillary is jealous of this, then she may well try to put one or two people around Clinton. Clinton especially emphasized that when I went to see, to avoid Lieberman and hengrich this two identity special women, obviously not because they have a very special status in the White House or they may have any special relationship with Clinton, could it be because they are Hillary inserted in the side of Clinton?

But that seems a bit unlikely. If Hillary had been suspicious about this, I think it would have been her or someone she directed to step in and resolve the matter, not Clinton, and what would have happened then would have been even more intense than it is now, and not something as simple as being reduced from lovers to friends.

What else would be special besides that?

One issue that has suddenly occurred to me is the appeal of the Jones case to the circuit court.

That appeal has been months in the making, and the election is now no more than a few months away, so if the circuit court drags it out for a few more months, and then, Clinton’s attorneys drag it out until the deadline to go to the highest court, and then wait for the highest court to make a decision, it will be another few months before that. By that time, the election will be over, and if Clinton fails to win the election, the decisions of the two courts won’t have the slightest significance (of course, I’m sure that if the American people didn’t care too much about this, Clinton would. would have won the election).

By the way, it’s about time, could there be some bad news coming out of the Circuit Court?

It was certainly possible that Clinton could have known the outcome of the case before anyone else, and could it be that that outcome had upset him so much that he had made up his mind to end things with me? I have to admit, that’s too likely.

But, if this is the case, what Kathryn said about a fresh start seems like a long way off, because there’s nothing I can do to help Clinton in this case, and, I even believe that that’s something that Clinton definitely did, and the question isn’t whether or not he did it that way, it’s whether or not that constitutes sexual harassment. That’s not my business, that’s the judge’s business.

So, what do I do?

Shortly thereafter, news of the Circuit Court’s decision hit the press, with the federal appeals court overruling the Little Rock “federal district court” and holding that the case could not be postponed until after Clinton left office, but should be heard now.

However, what’s the point of knowing about it? Can I say to him that I support him? Or that I believe him? If I did say that to him, then even I would think it was the biggest joke in the world.

Can I support him? Support him in getting more women? Or trust him. What do I trust him for? Believe that he didn’t say those things, or didn’t do those things? Or believe that he has a stronger sex drive than any other man and will be looking for more women in the future? Or do I believe that his feelings for me are real? But do I believe he is real? Honestly, it’s hard for even me to know for sure.

If it were anything else, I might be able to tell a friend about it, but this is so specific that if I mention it, the whole world will know who the “big guy” I am referring to is.

The only person who can talk about it is Dr. Cassandro, who is the one person who, up to the present, knows definitively what happened between me and Clinton, and the only person who knows pretty much everything about me.

When I think back now to what Cassandro said to me at that time, I can feel that he actually had a sense of helplessness. I think that for a doctor of psychology like Cassandro, Monica Lewinsky was probably one of the most difficult customers he had ever encountered. Lewinsky was probably one of the most difficult clients he had ever encountered. He made suggestions to me, and I look back on them now and realize that they were some very good suggestions indeed, but at the time, I almost never listened to them, or I never tried to follow them. When I had a problem, I always called him, but it was just a matter of looking at him as a friend to talk to, or as the safest person to talk to, like one of those Netflix talkers. That’s exactly how helpless he was.

I remember when I spoke to the Doctor again about it, he said to me, “That would be a good thing for you to think calmly about.”

I was practically screaming, I had told him something so important because I trusted him, but I couldn’t have imagined that he would answer me like that. It seemed a little too much, was that how he counseled me to give me advice? If that was the case, why would I bother calling him more than necessary for this whatchamacallit?

The Doctor hastened to explain that he had said so only in view of the fact that it would be conducive to my thinking calmly about the whole affair for once. Generally speaking, he said, when people are in the midst of violent fluctuations in their emotions, it is often impossible for them to think calmly, so there are many feelings that are not necessarily true. Now that I finally have a chance to think calmly, I should grasp such an opportunity and think it over.

The Doctor thought I should do some thinking on a couple of fronts. First, I’ve been with a couple of married men; what exactly do those married men bring to the table? Is everything they bring to me that those unmarried men must not be able to give me? If the answer is no, then I should think hard about myself, whether I am on the wrong path, or whether I am psychologically overly attached to or hate married men. He even voiced the notion that there are times when love may be more than just a healthy feeling, in the sense that the nature of love is destructive if it has changed. Secondly, do I hold a complete rejection of those unmarried men, or not?

If not, then why not try to receive love for them? This acceptance may sometimes become a kind of self-psychological conditioning that is excellent for occasional psychological deviations. Therefore, he advised me to approach unmarried men more and associate less with those who are married, and preferably stay away from married men. There were other suggestions, but I can hardly remember them in full now.

I understood very well that the Doctor’s remark contained a meaning that was not explicitly stated, that he thought I might somehow (he might have thought that this reason was caused by the divorce of my parents when I was fourteen years old, and that it was a strong desire to psychologically seek the affirmation, the approval of my elders. In some of his later conversations, he had also talked about this issue, and he said that my psychological growth, almost stopped at the age of fourteen. He said that I had always ministered to finding myself at fourteen, but I never seemed to find it. (In fact, I was no longer fourteen, and should have stepped out of fourteen many years ago to meet my twenty-fourth and thirty-fourth years.) I couldn’t agree with him at the time, but now, I think, the doctor was right, and I really do feel stuck at fourteen, and that the huge gap between my mental age and my physical age is the root cause of all the tragedies that have followed me.

But at the time, I absolutely refused to admit this, and would never have made the effort to get out of fourteen, as the Doctor said. The Doctor’s words were heard and immediately cast aside, and I didn’t even think seriously about them at all. I don’t think, at the time, that I was in need of some teaching, but merely needed someone to listen, and I needed a faithful listener, and Bochy was just such a person.

In fact, such a conversation was not likely to help me pull myself out of that relationship at all; rather, it increased my fascination with Clinton.

No matter how much I was enamored with Clinton, between us, it was over, and this, he had told me very clearly. But in my psyche, I never actually agreed that it was over, and I always believed that he would come back for more, that there was absolutely no way he could ever completely forget or even give up on me. I’m very confident about this, and I’ve always felt that we’re still seeing each other, but because he’s been busy, he hasn’t had the time or opportunity to contact me.

During that time, I would always find some excuse to run to the west wing of the old building, expecting an unexpected chance to meet Clinton and get my message across to him. In fact, there were several such opportunities, I think, at least once in mid-February. At that time, we were not in close proximity, but merely exchanged a glance. I realized that his gaze was still fiery, and he winked at me in a way that was definitely a clear sign of flirtation, I’m pretty sure of that.

The next thing I knew it was the end of February, maybe the beginning of March, I can’t be sure exactly, and for once the White House records were not doing me any favors. That evening, I had some business to attend to in the West Wing, and in the hallway not far outside the Oval Office, I brushed past Clinton, who was next to several other people, so we had no chance to say hello, but in fact we did so with our eyes. He looked at me and winked one side of his eye, and the corners of his mouth quirked with it. I reciprocated, of course, cocking my pursed lips and front in a kiss-giving gesture.

I’m sure that somewhere on his face, at that point, it burned like crazy. I’m even sure that he would have had some kind of longing that he had to hold back.

Sure enough, that night, around twelve o’clock, or a little later, I had finished my shower and was getting ready for bed when I got a call from Clinton.

“Hey baby, it’s me. What are you doing?” He asked.

As soon as I heard his voice, I felt ecstatic, so I immediately said, “What else can I do but think about a horse’s ass.”

I admit that sometimes, I would think that he is very good at pleasing women, and is simply a master at flattering them. I remember telling whichever one of my friends that I didn’t like it when someone called me darling, or baby, or whatever; it was obviously a very obvious form of ingratiation, and it was hard to see the sincerity of it. Now, this kind of name is not only outdated, and seems very old-fashioned (however, now, I began to seriously think back to all that I have experienced, I have to admit that, in fact, my resentment is only on the surface, deep down, in fact, I like that kind of name, that seems to be a kind of fatherly as well as a kind of loverly name, I think I have always thought that I actually lacked that kind of feeling). I think I’ve always thought I lacked that. I guess that’s why Dr. Cassandra thinks I’ve never gotten over the age of fourteen. There are some things that are really ridiculous, including this subconscious need for affection), but again, I have to admit that Clinton is good at this.

So, I call him a horse’s ass or a big horse’s ass some times. Even I can’t confirm if it’s hate or love or pampering behind this name calling.

“I’m the opposite of you, I’m thinking of a very interesting girl.” He said.

“Who would believe your bullshit? I can now see completely clearly that the words of someone like you, who is very skilled in ass-kissing, are simply not to be trusted.”

Clinton sounded very sincere as he said, “It’s true, baby. I called your office, but you weren’t there. I was very disappointed that you weren’t in the White House.”

“Would you invite me to your place if I were in the White House?” I put out a trial balloon, because for him to make that call to me and say something like that seemed to be signaling that his heart was already moving, that there were signs of a change in the gloom and doom between us, and I needed to confirm it all.

“I think I was once ready to send out an invitation like that, but I didn’t. know where to send the invitation, and you’re not even in the White House.”

My God, is that really what he said? It seems to have been very clear to me that he’s ready to start over.

“How about I rush to meet you now?”

“I’m afraid I can’t right now.” He said, “Chelsea’s a little under the weather, and I promised her I’d stay home with her, and I can’t break my promise.”

Chelsea was his daughter who was five years younger than me, and that was his only baby.

That’s when I remembered that he was already the father of a child and he was going to do his fatherly duties, which I greatly appreciated, and that I wouldn’t snatch him from Chelsea. I would never snatch a daughter from her father because that would be a very cruel thing to do.

This whole thing, though, seems a bit ridiculous when you think about it; I’m surprisingly only five years older than his daughter; did he ever think about that when he was making love to me? And if it had occurred to him, what thoughts of wanting had ever crossed his mind?

The call didn’t go as well as I’d hoped, but at least I was excited by the fact that Kathryn was right, Clinton hadn’t really called it a day, just a “pause in the game”, and now he’d signaled that the game would soon be back on.

I think I got a good night’s sleep that night.

Then after a week or so, I still hadn’t gotten an invitation from Clinton, and I was quite chagrined. I also began to think that Clinton’s phone call that night was nothing more than an impulse, and that in fact he hadn’t thought about starting over, or that later on, after I had calmed down, I felt that it would be better if I didn’t start over, and that’s why he hadn’t called me again for more than a week.

I had planned to go back to the West Wing at some point, I needed a chance to appear in front of him and remind him that it had been a long time since we had been together and had any kind of caressing behavior. I thought that if I saw him, that would remind him of his own longings and needs, or at least be a reminder to him. I decided that both he and I were in need of such a reminder, and it was a great coincidence that on this particular day, a good friend from a few times happened to be visiting me in Washington from California, and she said that she would love to see where I was working, and also the heart of America. I then had the bright idea and decided to take her for a walk to the West Wing, which was a very good excuse indeed, and no one would have thought there would be anything wrong with my motives for going to the West Wing.

As it turned out, just as I had hoped, we ran into Clinton.

Clinton saw me, stopped to greet us, I introduced my friend for Clinton, I told him, this is my good friend Angry a few times. I talked about her in front of Clinton, and more than once, Clinton obviously has a very deep impression of Angry, he then shook hands with Angry, smiled and said: “I know you, you are her friend from California.”

We parted after a very casual conversation. Ungley told me afterward that she was very surprised that the President knew she was from California, which sounded like no possibility at all; he couldn’t know everyone, they never even met.

“Oh, that’s because I mentioned you to him once.” I deliberately downplayed what he said.

Ungli was even more surprised, her eyes opened wide and she looked at me for dozens of seconds before saying, “It’s unbelievable that you know the president so well.”

It was more than familiar. I said to myself, “I know how many pubic hairs he has.

Of course, I couldn’t say anything like that, and the only thing I could tell Ungli was, “We’re friends.”

I know I am very smug when I say this, and it is indeed something to be dazzled by to have a friend like Clinton.

Ungli didn’t seem satisfied with that answer. I know that she is not an extraordinarily inquisitive girl, but this matter is completely different from ordinary matters, as it involves the current president. It was really hard for her to understand how it was possible for me to be so familiar with the President, so familiar that I had mentioned my friends to him over and over again and made him remember those people.

If she had asked about anything else, I would have been reluctant to give a more detailed answer, but this matter is, after all, different, and I would have been happy for her to know more. But it is very regrettable that I am not able to say so, and I don’t think I would have been able to be very explicit about him speaking out about it, at least in the last couple of decades.

All I can tell Ungli is that there’s really nothing strange about this because we have a mutual friend, Walt. Kay. Kay is the most loyal supporter of the Democratic Party, and the last few presidents, have been his best friends, as have the Clintons. On the other hand, Kay has a particularly deep relationship with my family, and they became very good friends when Marcia was a teenage girl. On the other hand, Marcia is a most ardent and flagrant supporter of the Democratic Party, and she has had many occasions to publish articles in support of the Democratic Party as well as the current administration, and Clinton counts her as a loyal friend. With these two relationships, I just don’t want to be friends with Clinton.

In fact, Clinton and I agreed that if anyone asked him or me a question about our relationship, we would give this reason: I am the child of an old friend as well as a loyal supporter of his.

For me, the meeting had another significance; Clinton had taken it upon himself to mention in my presence that he knew about Ungley, which certainly indicated to me that he cared about me, and that anything I had talked to him about had been kept in his mind, even the friends of my own that I had talked about.

At that time. I had always thought that the chance to meet alone would come soon, and for that moment I looked forward with anxious anticipation.

But, a week went by, another week went by, and such a moment never came. I began to doubt my feelings more and more; was he doing nothing more than showing that he still considered me a friend? But why, that night, had he blurted out that he had sought me out and was terribly disappointed that he couldn’t be alone with me because I wasn’t at the White House? Was that kind of talk, too, just an impulse? Or about that sexual harassment lawsuit, and what could possibly go wrong after his lawyers took it to the highest court in the land again?

I knew he would be bothered by that because public opinion seems to be unforgiving of him, and the mainstream media has been promoting the idea that the President and the average civilian are equal before the law, that the circuit court’s decision was correct, that the Supreme Court should not have recognized the President’s right to take precedence over the average civilian, and, furthermore, that the Supreme Court should have faced up to Paula B. Jones’ civil rights and should have given her justice. Jones’ civil rights and should give her justice.

Also, the election is getting closer and closer. Is this another reason why he is under tremendous psychological pressure? If that is the case, I should wait quietly. I am very confident that he will be able to win in the election, perhaps, he is waiting for that moment. Although there is a long period of time between now and the end of the general election, this period of time is absolutely unbearable for me. But for his sake, I would rather endure it myself, and if he thinks that our fresh start should be after the general election, then I have no problem with it at all.

Having this in mind doesn’t mean that I’ve completely given up on meeting Clinton, in fact I’ve been working on this for a long time, and whenever I get the chance, I approach the West Wing so that I can see him, even if it means exchanging a glance with him from a distance.

One day at the end of March (in the Starr Report, it is clearly shown that the date was March 29, but I don’t necessarily confirm that, and I think Starr was right, he always managed to get the time very accurate in many ways, whereas I couldn’t, and I only had a general idea of the time about something), I came face to face with Clinton as I was walking down the corridor outside of the Oval Office, and I could tell at a glance that he was at that moment wearing the very first tie I had given him.

The tie was given to him by me through the normal channels after we had our first sexual encounter, and the White House made a record of the tie. Clinton had called me once that evening about it and told me how much he liked the tie. Shortly afterward, he even gave me a photo of him knotting the tie I had given him. That photo showed a kind of recognition of his relationship with us.

Now, once again, he wore this tie, which, I think, certainly indicated to me a fact.

The most important thing is: he didn’t know that I would be here today, it was an “accidental meeting”. I’m sure he has a lot of ties, and the fact that he chose this one in particular must have had some significance. Of course, I also thought that he might have simply forgotten about it and picked up a tie at random, and then coincidentally chose the one I gave him. For that reason, I decided to conduct a test to find out if he had any more suggestions about this tie.

I took it upon myself to walk up and say hello, then compliment him on this very nice tie.

“Can you tell me where you bought it?” I asked.

“No, I didn’t buy it.” He said.

“Yeah? That means it’s from someone else? What kind of person has such a good eye?”

“A very interesting girl.” He said, and winked at me, exchanging a mutually knowing look.

I then whispered to him, “Oh, so it’s a gift from a lover, then you have to be careful to keep it, don’t let down the person’s heart.”

“I will, I’m always very careful.” He said.

The meeting was very brief, as he had been with others in the hallway.

I had thought that he might invite me into his office, but in fact he did not.

A short time later, I received a phone call from him in my own office, and he told me that this evening, he would be watching a movie in the White House Theater with some other guests, and that he would like me to attend as well. He even planned that I could wait in the hallway of the White House Theater beforehand so that when he passed by, he would be just in time to see me, and then he would invite me to come into the theater with him.

I told him that I didn’t want anyone to know that I was an uninvited person, and that ~ if I said yes to this invitation ~ I would have to hide somewhere in the West Wing for a long time, and that it was a heavily staffed and well-mixed place, and that there wouldn’t be a shortage of people who would see me. I think that would give others something to think about.

He thought about it briefly and agreed with me, and at the same time, he expressed his regrets, saying that he was really looking forward to being with me. We hadn’t had a chance to be alone together for over a month, and he missed me so much that he had been looking for a chance to meet up.

I took the opportunity to tell him that I was hoping we could have another date on a weeknight, that might be better. Besides, that would be exactly what I needed.

“Okay.” He said, “I’ll give it a try, and when the time comes, I’ll give you a call.”

I stayed in my office all day the next day and didn’t go anywhere, worried that I would miss Clinton’s call. But when his call didn’t come until after 11 p.m., I figured he probably wasn’t going to call me, and I had to leave.

Not getting a call from him was certainly a bit unpleasant, but the fact that our relationship was moving in a better direction was practically certain, as evidenced by the fact that he was able to take the initiative to invite me to a movie. When I didn’t get a call from Weekend, I thought it might be that he didn’t have a chance; he was always very busy and had to meet with an unknown number of people every day. I cannot therefore conclude that he deliberately missed the appointment.

Sure enough, on Sunday afternoon, his call came.

On this day, of course, I did not have to go to the office, but for the possibility that he might call, I did, and arrived at the office about ten o’clock, and ate lunch at the White House.

As it turned out, as I expected, he did schedule a time for our meeting on this day.

Clinton said on the phone that he had just enough time to see me now, that he had asked me to pretend to deliver a document for him to the Oval Office, that he would instruct the security people at the door to let me in, and that there wouldn’t be any problems with that, other than keeping an eye on Lieberman to see if he was hanging around.

I immediately cleaned myself up and put one of the ties I had prepared earlier in my briefcase, picked it up and ran towards the West Wing, the journey was unimpeded and we met again in his office without any problems.

“I’ve waited an agonizing month and a half for this day.” I said to him.

As he led me toward the study, he said, “You have only waited a month and a half, while I have planned for a month and a half.”

I stopped on the ground where we often stopped and faced him and said, “So, what’s your plan?

Anything a little more exciting?”

He hugged me, kissed me on the lips, and then asked, “Is this exciting enough?”

“Beginning is not enough.” I said.

He kissed me again and put a hand on my chest, fondling my breasts before asking, “How about this? Is it exciting enough?”

“Not even close.” I said.

He undid my blouse, exposing my breasts, and caressed it with his hands and mouth before asking for the third time, “Do you think it’s not enough?”

“Not enough, not enough, not enough, I’ll never be enough for you.” I said.

So, he made a further tender move. He unzipped his pants, pulled out his genitals and handed them over to me, then slipped his hand into my panties and gently stroked my genitals, asking on the other hand, “Isn’t that enough?”

I said, “Not enough, I want it to go in.”

I had to admit that his stroking made me feel very comfortable and at the same time, I felt unsatisfied, I needed his penetration, it had been a long time since I had experienced that sensation.

Sexual intercourse without penile penetration is incomplete, even abnormal, and it is very difficult for me to feel satisfied, let alone to feel released after repression, and I can’t make myself relax. On the other hand, the fact that he wouldn’t let me finish the job and wouldn’t insert his genitals into my vagina seemed to indicate that he still had reservations and a lack of trust in his relationship with me. This is a very unpleasant thing, and at the same time I know that the fact that we are back together after having expressed our breakup shows that we are really starting over, and that is something to be very thankful for, and I can’t get pangs, I should feel very content. Therefore, what I said about wishing him to go in was nothing more than words, and I would never insist on it if he did not want to. At the time I made that remark, I did not even think that it would become possible at all.

“It will.” He said, “I promise you, one day it will be like that.”

It was clear enough that I didn’t have to insist, and I decided to divert my attention, so I increased the strength of my hand gripping his cock a little, and asked him, “It’s been a long time since I’ve been intimate with that naughty lad, and I wonder if he remembers me?”

“Why don’t you just go ahead and ask it?”

As he said this, he moved his body back slightly and leaned against the wall. He said that this stance was good for his lumbar spine to rest, so whenever we were together, he would look for a place where he could lean back and just stand like that for me to suck his cock.

I knelt down and instead of immediately taking his cock, I looked at it intently.

It stood up very straight and, with a little forward motion, seemed to really greet me, looking very mischievous and cute, like its owner, who was a total bad boy.

“What is it doing?” I asked.

“Perhaps, it’s saluting you.” He responded.

Sure enough, it was saluting. It stood with its back straight like that, and just now it had clearly moved forward a little, wasn’t it like a soldier saluting?

“It’s so cute.” I purred, and kissed it.

After sucking on it a couple of times, he very suddenly pulled it out of my mouth.

I was about to ask him what was going on when I saw him looking flustered and pulling me towards the bathroom.

Before I left the hallway, I glanced to the side, and this time, we were standing too close to the high window, and at that moment, there happened to be a florist working there. Is it any wonder that he was alarmed.

We were always very careful about this, and usually Clinton would turn off the light in the study if it was late in the evening, or in the bathroom, where there was no window to the outside. At the same time, I had to restrain myself in order to avoid making noise when I made contact. One day, thinking I would grunt, he reached out with his own hand and blocked my hand. On other occasions, when he touched my labia or clitoris, which aroused me so much that I couldn’t control myself, I had to stuff my own fingers in my mouth and bite down gently, so that I couldn’t make a sound, or if I did, it was very low in volume But this time it was the first time that we had seen each other after more than a month of separation, and we both seemed to be a little carried away, so we didn’t notice that the position we were in was a little too close to the window. position was just a little too close to the window.

After moving to the bathroom, he stood down against the side of the tub, the erection still erect, high up on the outside of his pants, seemingly watching and waiting for me.

I walked up, bent over and said to him, “I’ve always wanted to make it an orgasm, I wanted to see it cum, that way, it would seem normal and great, and I hope you’ll let me finish this today, you wish that too, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer me, he just held my head and gently pressed it toward his cock.

However, when he was about to ejaculate, he pulled out his penis once, I was a bit annoyed, looked up at him, and was about to say: “You don’t keep your word, just now, you obviously promised me, now, why did you back out again? Why don’t you let me finish it?”

He said before I could say anything, “Just a moment, I’ll make you climax.”

With that, he walked out, and in less than a minute, he walked in again, this time with a lit cigar in his mouth. As he smoked his cigar, he walked towards me, reached down, pulled down my panties, and began to fondle my sex. His palm was pressed against my triangle, the center of which was my pubic hair, and his two pubic fingers were spread out on either side, just enough to spread my labia apart so that his middle finger could move more freely there In fact, it did just that, as he first moved around the sides of the labia, then suddenly slid down to my clitoris, rubbing it gently a couple of times and making sure that the next time he rubbed it, he did so with slightly more force than the previous time. Then he would quickly move away from the clitoris and down the sides of the labia, touching the door and probing it slightly, gently cuffing it a few times inside, before returning along the same path again, stimulating my labia and clitoris.

It looked like he was really determined to finish it, so I felt a rush of excitement that I had never felt before. I almost screamed, I thought, it was such a lovey-dovey sound that it could have come out at any uncontrolled moment, and I had to guard against it by raising my own hand and biting my fingers into it first, and with more and more force in my teeth as he moved faster and faster.

My body matched him on the other side, writhing more and more.

He probably sensed that my orgasm was approaching and tried to prolong the process as long as possible. He pulled his hand out, then knelt down and lifted one of my legs up, so that I had to hold onto the wall beside me in order not to make myself lose my center of gravity.

Clinton looked earnestly at my sex like a curious child, and then I saw a sly grin flash across his face as he removed the cigar from his mouth, cupped it in his hand, and once again looked at my cunt very earnestly before inserting the end that he had in his mouth and pumping it gently.

This guy was a real player, and the excitement he was giving me with this approach was like nothing I had ever felt before, and I instantly felt something in my body lunge quickly at my pussy door, and the orgasm overpowered all my senses for a split second, and I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs.

Knowing that I had reached orgasm, he pulled the cigar out of my pussy, took it in his mouth, took two puffs, and then seemed very satisfied. He said, “It tastes good.”

“Are you sure?” I asked as I organized my clothes while knowing it was over.

“I’m quite sure.” He said, “It’s a special way of making it, and I should make a suggestion to them if possible.”

It’s a joke of course, there’s no way he would ever suggest something like that, and there’s no way the cigar companies would ever listen to his advice. I wonder how many cigar enthusiasts would never smoke the stuff again if they knew they were smoking cigars that had been dipped in a woman’s vagina.

I said to him in the same joking manner, “In that case, just leave your cigars to me, and the next time we meet, I will bring you some happy cigars secretly made in a special way.”

When I got back to my office, I took the tie out of my briefcase and gave it to him, then I left the Oval Office through the rose garden in the back.

I thought that with this fresh start we were bound to have a very happy future, but I had absolutely no idea that everything I had done in the Oval Office had attracted the attention of some people who were considering a program to sanction me.

I think that’s when it started to get eventful, between us.