Bojo blowies

Chapter one- Downing street Dicking

Hattie adjusted her favorite oversized cardigan as she stared up at the grand, intimidating doors of 10 Downing Street. She wasn't entirely sure how she'd ended up here—or why she'd thought this was a good idea. But she had a habit of taking detours from common sense, and tonight's stroll through London had landed her directly in front of the Prime Minister's residence.

As if on cue, the door creaked open, and a tousle-haired figure stepped out. Boris Johnson, blinking in the amber glow of the streetlights, looked as though he'd just been woken from a nap, and was perhaps not entirely certain where he was either.

"Oh," he said, scratching his head as he looked at Hattie. "Did we...have an appointment?"

"Do I look like I have an appointment?" she shot back, eyebrows raised. Her voice had that deadpan quality that made even the boldest question sound like a dare. Hattie couldn't help it—it was just how she spoke. Unhinged, her friends called it. Strange, her mother had said. But it had always gotten her where she wanted, and tonight, she decided, would be no different.

"Uh...well...no. I suppose you don't," Boris stammered, clearly at a loss. He opened his mouth as if to ask something, then closed it again, apparently rethinking. Finally, he shook his head, a bemused expression spreading across his face. "You're not here to...protest or throw any rotten vegetables at me, are you?"

She smirked, stepping closer, her combat boots making a satisfying thunk on the pavement. "Not unless you're particularly allergic to sarcasm."

Boris chuckled, almost involuntarily. "Then come on in. I'd hate to see an uninvited guest go to waste."

Once inside, Hattie's eyes darted around. She felt like she was on some elaborate school field trip—if school field trips included following the Prime Minister through a maze of corridors, past grand staircases and old portraits that seemed to watch her every step.

As they reached a room lined with mahogany bookshelves and an ornate fireplace, Boris gestured to an armchair, looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

"So...what brings a young lady like you to Downing Street at this time of night?"

Hattie tilted her head, taking in the room before settling her gaze on him

Hattie sat quietly down beside him, being careful to make little noise.

"Can I be honest with you Mr Johnson?" She said sheepishly

"Of course! What is it?" Johnson smiled back

"Well umm..." Hattie cowered

"I need that big wild hairy cock of yours mr BoJo." She said whilst staring into his eyes.

"Oh really is that so young lady?" He said surprised

"Are you sure you can take it?" He said moving towards her

"Mhmm" she said back

Boris moved carefully towards her, using force to hold her down. As he began to kiss her he slipped his wrinkly fingers into her lace thong.

The began to get more and more heated until e pulled her pants down and looked up.

"Are you ready for the bojonkadonk??"

He said threateningly

"Of course Mr prime minister"

Hattie smirked

They started to get so hot and sweaty that Boris' hair started to fall off.

He slowly slipped in his bojonkadonl and all of a sudden he was in heaven.

Not long into their frisky shenanigans Hattie began to panic

"Wait I need to stop!" She cried

"I don't take no for an answer!" He screamed

"No genuinely I need the toilet!!"
She begged

"No baby you don't get to stop." He ordered

"I'm gonna poo!!!!!" She wailed

"Ahhhhhhh" they said in union

Hattie's liquid diarrhoea splattered everywhere leaving them both covered in what was left of the kfc she had for lunch

"I'm sorry!" She pleaded

"Don't be baby it's gonna make me bojunkaspunk!!"

"I'm gonna cum!!!!!"
He cried as white and brown liquid filled Hattie's wet baggy pussy