Her Emails: Hillary x Donald.

Email 1: Donald.

"I'll see you tonight, my love.

-Hillary."

A small smile formed across my lips as I read the words on the screen. My heart leapt with joy as I thought about finally seeing my beloved Hillary again.

I couldn't wait.

I had grabbed so many women by their pussies, but it wasn't the same.

Nothing filled me with delight except seeing Hillary, not even mocking everyone around me.

I closed out of my email account and stood up, listening as my chair was pushed backwards by my firm, round, beautiful Donald ass.

No wonder Hillary calls me Donald Rump, I am thicker than a Snickers bar. 

I wiggled my shoulders and raised my chin, grabbing the bottle of Instant Spray Tan from my desk. I quickly squirted the orange liquid all over my neck and face, my smile growing as I looked at myself in the mirror. 

"Damn," I said to myself, "I look hot! Like a flaming hot Cheeto, So damn hot!"

I straightened my tie and turned, walking out of the room and across the hallway with an unneeded sense of pride.

As I walked, I passed my beautiful daughter, Ivanka. I nodded to her, my eyes only lingering on her for a moment.

She was gorgeous, it was true, and if I haven't fallen in love with Hillary, I would've wanted to date her. If she wasn't my daughter, of course.

As I approached the front door, I lingered in front of it, closing my eyes for a moment.

I had met with Hillary in secret many times before, but every time I saw her my breath caught in my throat.

I had to pretend to hated her everywhere I went, especially on television, but in the shadows, nobody else could ever truly fill my trump heart.

I reopened my eyes and exhaled slowly, opening the door.

"Time to be racist."