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April 19, 2016
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It's the erotic Ted Cruz romance novel you didn't know you wanted!

Liz paused to look at herself in hallway mirror. She ran her fingers through her long, blonde hair and adjusted the American flag pin on her lapel.

"Remember, Liz," she muttered under her breath as she walked down the hall, "You joined this campaign to help him take this country back from those Libtards in Washington, not fuck the ever-living shit out of him. Your country is counting on you to keep your legs closed." She rapped lightly on the door of Room 1776. "Even if resisting him is harder than getting your hands on Obama's real birth certificate."

"Just a minute!" The voice behind the door sounded someone had taught a chubby weasel with a sinus infection how to squeal in a southern accent.

Liz's pulse quickened in anticipation. She caught her breath as she heard the lock click. Ted Cruz, the second-place Republican presidential candidate, stood in the frame.

Ted Cruz had the body of a snake that had swallowed a bunch of bathtub caulk. His skin glistened like an oil-soaked paper towel. And his hair looked like someone had stapled a wet garbage bag to the top of an old baked potato wrapped in chicken fat. Just the sight of him was already having a "Trickle Down" effect on Liz's panties.

"You wanted to see me, Ted?" asked Liz as she stepped into the room. "Don't tell me. You want help with a big, up-cumming, cock-us."

"No…" said Ted, closing the door behind her. "That's not it…"

"Really, Ted? Because the polls are looking very strong," smirked Liz, nodding towards the growing tension in the crotch of Ted's pants. "I know how much you pride yourself on being a candidate with a big tent."

"No…" repeated Ted. He flashed Liz one of his guilty lil' grins, the kind of smile a baby makes after it's just made a big doo-doo in its diaper.

"I want to…" he started. "You know…" Ted made a circle with finger and his thumb on one hand and poked the pointer on his other hand through it. "Icky-icky…," said Ted as he moved his hands back and forth. He grimaced and breathed nervously through the corners of his mouth while his sad eyes begged for approval. God, Liz loved his laugh.

"Cutting right to the chase, huh Ted?" A smirk spread across Liz's face. "I guess Ted Cruz doesn't play games in the bedroom either."

Liz should have known that Ted would be feeling cocky. He was coming off another huge second-place finish. Twenty-five percent of Arizona Republicans were crazy for Cruz and the results had gone straight to his head, not to mention a few other body parts.

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Liz looked up at Ted's face-neck-and-chin mush. His beady little eyes sparkled at her like a possessed doll's. Liz tilted her head and stepped into Ted's embrace. Ted wrapped his lips around his teeth and slowly gummed at Liz's mouth, chin, and nose.

"Oh God!" moaned Liz! "You taste like ketchup."

"I ate a bunch of ketchup," hissed Ted.

"I know," breathed Liz.

"There was a big pump at the buffet and you could have as much as you want."

"God, Ted. This is wrong." Liz pushed herself away from the living sack of flour seeking the highest office in the land. "You've got a family. Shouldn't you be with your two beautiful daughters."

"The girls?" chuckled Ted. "Oh, I don't think they'll miss me much. They think I'm a slug-man wearing daddy skin."

"Well, then," smirked Liz. "I guess we've got all night."

Liz moved over to the bed and Ted nestled his face between her thighs. Then he bowed his head, clasped his hands, and began to say grace.

"Dear Lord," began Ted, "I thank you for this beautiful bounty of sweet pussy which I am about to eat. And please, Lord, continue bless this great country and to watch over us. Especially watch over the Muslims, Lord. Keep a close eye on them. And let us real Americans know if they're getting up to anything fishy. Amen."

"Oh, Ted," whispered Liz, blinking back the tears in her eyes. "That was so beautiful."

"Now, I'm gonna do cunnilingus!" squealed Ted. He licked his lips and started quickly pressing his cheeks against her pussy, making loud kiss-y noises each like his face touched her sex. "Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!" Liz's body writhed on the mattress in agonizing pleasure.

"Christ, I can't take it anymore," screamed Liz. "Whip it out for me, Ted."

Ted reached into his suit pocket and shakily fished out a small pistol. Ted kept the weapon at arms length and pinched the grip of the lil' pistol between his finger and thumb.

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"Good God, Ted," cooed Liz, as she began to furiously masturbated herself with the pocket-sized copy of the constitutions she kept with her at all times. "I love a man who knows to how to handle his equipment." But Ted didn't hear her. He had turned his face away from the firearm. He tried to peek at it out of the corner of his eye, but when he finally did catch sight of it, he yelped and covered his face with his free hand.

"Now, how about you exercise your right to bare dick?" Liz raised an eyebrow at the Senator

Ted slowly put his gun on the carpet, then unzipped his pants and pulled his limp junior senator through his fly.

"Ooh, yeah," sighed Liz. "I like my cock like I like my government: small."

Liz beckoned him over and Ted lay his body on top of her's like a garbage bag full of vegetable oil.

"Leaving your clothes on, Ted?!" gasped Liz. "You kink."

"Maybe it's my Cuban roots," shrugged Ted, "but me like-o el sex mucho spicy."

"Spanish?" shot Liz. "You better be careful with that dirty talk, Cruz, or I'll have you deported."

"To Canada?" There was panic in Ted's voice. "Who told you?!"

"Oh, shut up and fuck me," hissed Liz.

"Was that Spanish?" Ted was confused. "I just told you I don't speak Spanish."

"Well, maybe you'll understand this," said Liz as she slid the Senator into her beltway.

Ted bucked and heaved and wiggled like a dying seal caught in a net, then he was still.

"Uh oh," said Ted, that same guilty baby poo-poo grin spreading across his face.

"Mmm," moaned Liz. "Look's like Ted Cruz finally finished first."

THE END.

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