<Donald Trump>
I know that I feel something for Dora, but I've been trying to repress it for so long now that I feel constipated.
Right now she is talking to my grandmother in her beautiful Spanish accent. I can't understand for shit what she is saying until she translates and then once she does, I roll my eyes. This bitch is showing off her knowledge of being able to speak two languages.
She's a bilingual bitch.
Yet, I cannot deny her sexiness.
"Unlike your other bitch, this one's a keeper," my annoying grandmother says. Like any of that is HER BUSINESS! As soon as her back is turned, I give her the middle finger.
What? It's a polite gesture.
At least in Teletubby land it is.
Thank God I was never sacrificed there.
"Thanks so much for giving me tacos last night!" Dora squeals. She jumps up and down, her stunningly plain purple shirt moving with her. It's exactly the colour that I want her bruises to be once I'm done with her ;) And those shorts are the same colour as my face. If you couldn't tell, orange is also my favourite colour. I just want to rip them off and see her flawless body underneath. She's insecure, but I don't know what for. She doesn't know that she's beautiful.
(A/N: YES, I KNOW THIS IS WRONG ON SO MANY LEVELS. BUT..... YOU ARE STILL HERE READING IT)
I'm getting too ahead of myself. First, we need to leave this dump.
"You're welcome. Now, let's get out of here, shall we?" I ask her in a throaty whisper, trying to be flirtatious but instead sounding like I've been sucking dick for the past five hours.
WHICH I HAVEN'T.
"Sí, let's go!" She says happily. I smirk at her innocence, taking her small hand in mine. She shoots me a surprised look at the action but doesn't comment.
We both walk outside.
<Dora>
When Donald grabs my hand, I swear his face turns red but it's pretty much a shade of dark orange because of his tan. So who knows? Maybe he feels the same way. But then again, he has a wife. I don't know what to feel!
He leads me out to his private jet, which is spacious as fuck and obviously expensive. I sit beside him on the fancy white couch, looking up at him through my choppy bangs. Somehow he looks hotter than usual. He gives me a sexy smirk that makes him look like he accidentally farted.
"Damn, Dora." He sighs heavily. "You're so fucking beautiful." I hold back a spontaneous moan as he starts combing his sausage fingers through my greasy hair. At that moment, I can tell he feels the same way.
(LMAO SOMEONE PLEASE CALL 111)
"Donald." I attempt to ignore my racing heart as I cradle his orange hand in mine. "I don't know you too well. I mean..... we only met a few days ago! But I've been in love with you for at least two years. Do you feel the same way?"
With a shit-eating grin, Donald takes my hand and places it to his lips. "Dora, I would deport myself just to be with you! And I hate Mexicans!" He yells. I smile back at him, but one thing keeps me from feeling relieved.
"What about your wife?" I ask softly. "It wouldn't be right...." I rise to my feet but he grabs my arm, sitting me back down. "Dora," he murmurs, "I don't care about her! I would divorce her in a heartbeat." He starts playing with the hem of my shirt in his hands.
"Well, how about our ages? I'm basically a toddler and you're old enough to be my grandma." I hold back sobs. We could never work out. His warm arms tighten around my body, as if shielding me from my own dark thoughts.
"Dora, listen to me." Donald holds me close to his hairy chest. "You've been 7 for, what, 20 years? And you're not the only one. There's a lot of people out there who barely age, like the Simpsons and even one of my workers. His name was Eric Cartman but I fired him so he's not my worker anymore. Also," he caresses my cheek so lightly that it feels like there is a huge spider on my face, "my wife is 46 years old! It's okay!"
As he continues to stroke me like I'm a dog, I reach up to touch his face. Could he really be mine like I've always wanted? Suddenly, I feel a stabbing pain in my wrist. I look down to see blood trickling down my hand like a gory maple syrup. Donald hastily pushes me into an upright position. He asks one of his servants on the private jet to grab a first aid kit. I grit my teeth, averting my eyes to his. "Donny, what was that? It was so spiky and hard..... like a nest! Wh-what was it?" I stammer, feeling like a true seven-year-old.
"My hair...." he confesses. I widen my eyes at him. "Shit, I didn't mean to hurt you, Dora. I'm sorry!" He sniffs.
My initial shock gradually disappears and I smile at him. "When we're living together, the first thing that we'll do is take care of your hair."
"I love you, Dora T Explorer." He moans into my ear. For once in my life, I'm at a loss for words. I've never felt this way about ANYONE, but I know it's true love. So, I say what my heart urges me to.
"I love you too, Donald J Trump."
A/N: Hi. It's me again. You may as well stop reading the book now. It only goes downhill from here lads :D
