America's relationship with Mother Russia

1

*Donald's pov*
The plane from Russia will come in today. I can't wait for that hawt hunk of bird looking man to finish riding the plane and let me ride his soggy Russian eggplant. I wanted him to push me across my desk and hope that the future president never used ultraviolet light. If he's mother Russia does that make me baby America? I want his bird like face licking my orange spray tan chest. I'd let the Mexicans live here if it meant I could have him every day. Just two more hours and he'll be here. Unfortunately we also have to meet with crooked Hillary. She was never very fun but it Putin Daddy wants her there I won't complain. I would do absolutely anything for him. I loved everything about him. When he smirked I could feel my deflated Cheeto of a dick try and rise up. I wanted him to grab my tie and make me do things that would make Satan blush. I want to put my small orange grabby thing around his large communist cock. I wanted him to be my Daddy Russia. Killary would never understand my love for him. He was my world. Actually it would make more sense if I were the world and he was my dominator.
~Time Skip~
It's time for his plane to land. I can't wait to see him. I looked into the mirror trying to look good for Daddy Russia. I ran the comb over my very thin combover. I wanted to feel Putin's wrinkly hands pull my pair and my thin cracked lips kiss is wrinkly tip. I need my Putin daddy right now. The sound of the plane got louder and my boner got bigger. DADDY PUTIN. That's all I could think.