The Twinkle in His Eyes

The Jealous Ex

Donald had soon recovered; his ear had been healed fully, and the thought of Biden's passionate kiss made his days full of joy. As he thanked Nurse Gonzalez for his help and exited the hospital, a tear came to his eye. He would become a great drag queen one day. The secret service was worried for Trump; they escorted him and brought him to a sleek black car, reminiscent of his ex's sleek yet surprisingly tiny phallus, and the mere thought of his ex made his eyes go wide. His relationship with Biden was sure to make him angry. His ex was not one for peaceful resolutions. Trump's ex-boyfriend was none other than Kim Jong-Un, whom Trump broke up with because (though he lusted endlessly for his big buns) of the troubles of long distance and Kim's tendency to get mad over the smallest of things-like that time when Trump said his daughter could do well with a diet, but followed his comment with "Smash though," which made Kimmy-Un clap Donald's cheeks so hard that he was unable to bust for the rest of the night. All Trump wanted, now that he was free, was to lay in Biden's arms for the rest of eternity; who cared about the debate, the election, money laundering, or even America itself, when Biden was right there, with his pristinely wrinkled skin and baby blue eyes? The secret service agent on his left had been staring at Trump, but not out of the window like he was undoubtedly assigned to do. In fact, the secret service agent was staring at the space in between his legs. "What's your name?" Trump demanded suspiciously, and the agent shot to attention, almost hitting his head on the roof of the car. "My name is Agent D. Frias, Mr. Trump." Feeling immense satisfaction as Agent D. Frias' guilty face, Donald whispered in his ear, "I'll forgive you, if you get me in contact with Biden by tonight. Or, if you simply come round my place and have a few drinks and see what happens..." Donald Trump was surprised to see Agent D. Frias lick his lips almost immediately after this was suggested. "I'd be honored..."

That very night, Trump was in the middle of imagining IShowSpeed oiled up in his estate, when the phone normally dedicated to his old friend Jeffrey E's calls began to ring incessantly, with a special ringtone that went like: "Who loves minors? Me! Me! Who loves islands? Me! Me! Who loves parties? Me! Me!" And Trump rushed to pick it up.
"Who is this?" He demanded, checking his watch impatiently, as it was 11:49, and Agent D. Frias was to be there any moment now. "It's Kim, baby."
"Did you miss me, my blossom?"
Trump's heart skipped a beat, and his mouth ran dry. "I... I'm with someone new now." He whimpered softly.
"Is your wife in the room, honey? I can take care of that for you." As soon as Kim Jong-Un had uttered this, a projectile shaped like a phallus shot through the window, and found its target on a portrait of Melania, shattering the glass with a pow! "What do you want, Kim?" Trump sighed into the phone. "I'm the greatest boytoy you'll ever have, Donald-poo. Come back to me. I found out a new stroke method just for you, orange blossom."
Trump's heart began to hammer wildly in his chubby chest. "Kimmy- I mean, Kim.. I'm with Biden now. I can't see you. Joe loves me and I love him." As soon as Trump had stood his ground, he heard a growl come through the phone. "Fine, have it your way. You'll come crawling back." Kim Jong-Un hung up the phone, and Donald was left there to feel small and scared in his own skin.
What he needed right now was Joe Biden's soft wrinkly touch on his face to calm him down; oh how he was looking forward to seeing him, touching him, and listening to Dixon Dallas together. Then, the doorbell rang out, echoing inside the Mar-a-Lago estate. Sweat beaded on his forehead and bootycheeks as he pounded his way down the stairs to the front door. Opening it with a burst (in both ways) of courage, he was disappointed but not surprised to see Agent D. Frias smiling nervously at his doorstep, holding a bouquet of orange flowers. "Matches your rosy complexion, I figured. And by the way, you can just call me Danny... no need for the Agent title, except in bed, if you wish." Danny stepped inside with a smirk, and though there was surely around 50 years of an age gap between the two, the chemistry was immense and Trump felt like a light switch—turned on by the slightest touch of Danny Frias' hand against Trumps as he was handed the orange bouquet of flowers. But I can't get distracted; I need to talk to Biden. I need to tell him I love him. "Get me in contact with Biden, Danny. It's urgent." Donald Trump bit his bottom lip seeing D. Frias pull a piece of paper out of his pocket. "I talked to him, and he told me to give you this number, leading to his private phone. But I'd be careful if I were you. He wants to stay president, you know, and you can't let his manly charms fool you-"
"Let me offer you a drink, Danny. I've got some nice Mexican wine... or it might be Costa Rican, or something." Trump snatched the piece of paper and made his way to the kitchen, pouring them both a glass of wine. "I'm Costa Rican," commented Danny with a smile. "Oh. Well you do know what I was trying to do a few years ago, right? Clearly you're legal if you work for the secret service... but..." Trump personally disliked anybody from Mexico, having failed to build a border wall years ago. "Costa Rica isn't in Mexico... it's a few countries away, actually-"
"Ohhh so you're a smart guy, huh? Let's see how smart you are getting my 2-incher up your special place." Trump dropped his wine glass and pulled down his pants in the middle of the kitchen just as D. Frias said, "Bet!"

Trump woke up the following morning next to Danny, and felt extremely guilty with himself. Firstly for not contacting Biden, secondly for pegging Danny, and thirdly for updating his Grindr status as "getting bottomed out and topsy turvy". Biden was sure to see this new status change... fully booty butt naked, he ran to his mobile phone and typed in the new phone number Danny had given him.

𝓱-𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓑𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓷-𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓹𝓪𝓲... 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓶-𝓶𝓮, 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓮-𝓴𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓷, 𝓑𝓲𝓰 𝓓 𝓓𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓭.. 𝓘 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓘 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵... 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓪𝓵𝓹𝓱𝓪?

He soon saw text bubbles forming in response and his meat leapt with excitement. Shhh... calm down, babymaker... Trump commanded it, and it regretfully fell limp.

🎀  𝒾'𝓂 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝓉❀𝒹𝒶𝓎. 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓉 𝟪. 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝓊𝒷𝑒.  🎀

Trump quickly typed a reply to Biden's message, heart soaring. But just as he was about to hit send, he heard Danny stir in the bed and moan. "Ohhh... woah! It looked a lot bigger last night..." Agent D. Frias stared, gaping at Trumps special place. "Thats because it's for kids. Otherwise it'd be a choking hazard... and anyways," he added, all four cheeks flushing with embarrassment, "I'm a grower, not a shower!!"