Donald Trump slumped back down into his office chair and rubbed his brow tiresomely.
As he began to sit up straight, he suddenly became aware of a strange vibration in the air which tickled his pee-pee.
Donald smirked and brought his hand down to his lap in a lazy attempt to hide his raging boner.
Damn it, why did this happen every time he sat behind the presidential desk?
As he pondered this for a second, a bright light sporadically filled the entire room, blinding him.
“Holy fucking shit!” he grunted as he tried to cover his eyes in time, but his hands weren’t quite big enough.
He remained in a foetal position for quite some time, unsure of when it would be safe to peer about the room again.
It wasn’t until he felt a warm normal-sized hand on his shoulder and the soft words of a gentle man saying “open your eyes Mr Trump”, that he dared to glance up.
“J-Jesus Christ…!”
“Yes,” the man answered. “It is I, Jesus. I have come to speak with you, child.”
The man standing over him had luscious black curls which tumbled down his cheeks to form a dense beard that tip-toed around his plump pink lips.
His chocolate brown eyes shone compassion down to Trump’s squinty blue ones, and his olive skin creased so delicately when he spoke his name; “Donald?”
“N-no…there’s no way you’re Jesus Christ, nuh-uh, no way,” Trump stuttered, scooting his chair away. “Is this some kind of lame practical joke? Well it ain’t funny guys! This is my religion you’re messing with, these are the core values of ‘Murica so if you’re tryna make a joke out of them you’re making a joke out of the land of the brave!”
“Mr Donald Trump!”
He squealed in fright.
“Mr Trump, please listen,” the mysterious man said to him. “I am Jesus Christ, Son of God, and I have been sent here to help you become a better man for the sake of humanity.”
“H-how do I know you’re not just some terrorist come to assassinate me ‘cause I’m so important to the US and stuff?” Donald Trump asked worriedly, “I don’t know about you but in my high school, in MY high school we were taught that Jesus was white. I dunno folks, sue me, that’s what we were told. Jesus is white, so if I’m suddenly being told different in this day and age we oughta be suspicious, am I right? I mean you’re dark enough to be one of them suicide bombers is all I’m saying. Just sayin. And I’ll tell you another thing; the Jesus I know, wouldn’t be wearing a faggot dress, no way, Jesus is an American hero, he’s cooler than that.”
“Donald, this is a white robe, It’s literally what I’m shown to wear even in your spit-covered elementary school Bibles. And anyway, all men are the same underneath the pigmentation of skin,” the man informed with a trace of pity. “Do you really believe that when the Son of God was born in the Middle East to an olive-skinned virgin that he would appear as white as the snow on the other side of the globe?”
“Um, yes?” Trump replied in confusion. “White is, like, the default race for everything.”
“Well maybe that is one of the things I can hope to change while here.”
His voice was the type to command the attention of a room, and Donald liked that; usually his was the loudest voice in the boardroom, but not today.
Something strange was stirring inside him, and even though he wasn’t sure whether to trust this feeling, Donald Trump never ignored the call of his penis and he’d be damned if he doubted it now.
Donald took a step closer and slipped one arm around His waist, supporting the elegant arch in his holy back.
“M-Mr Trump!” Jesus exclaimed as Donald Trump’s other hand plunged downwards and began to fondle his heavenly business area through the thin robe. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Grabbin’ dat jesus chrussy,” he grunted in reply. “Just grabbin’ it.”
Jesus winced as Trump rubbed the tip of his dick and slowly lowered him down to the floor.
“This is wrong, we shouldn’t be doing this,” Jesus whispered in weak protest.
“Shh…” The President soothed as he placed a large leg either side of Jesus’ narrow body and started to drag his white frock up to his hips.
“I was sent here to change you, because the last time we let someone with your views do what he wanted…ah!” His own yelp interrupted Him as Trump ferociously grabbed the Lord’s hard dick and started rubbing it up and down. “….L-lots of innocent people died. So I have to ch-change things!”
“I think you already have changed me,” Donald answered in his sexy southern drawl, before grazing his lips on the head of the Son of God’s dick.
His lips parted and took in the holy cock, triggering a reaction from its recipient; Jesus cried out and sprang his chest upwards.
With a swift motion he clasped Donald Trump’s chubby cheeks and pulled him into a hot God-President snog.
Their tongues overlapped and Donald rubbed his nipples in delight; he had never felt so much pleasure, but all of a sudden he remembered something.
He stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Jesus panted, breaking away from his partner’s eyelid-looking lips.
“I….I’m a married man,” Donald sighed, a hand to his head as he fought the demons in his mind. “And I’m the President, and the 2003 Hotwheels champion, what are people gonna say? I can’t risk my rep now, it’s too dangerous.”
“Well…my Father said ‘you shall not commit adultery’,” Jesus whispered sorrowfully. But then he smiled. “But I say ‘do unto others as you would have them do unto you’. And I want you inside me, Mr Trump. And as Jesus H Fucking Christ I say that it is your Christian duty to fulfil that request, and I will do the same.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Trump cried, his emotions spilling over as he clasped Jesus close to his chest. “Stay with me.”
“Of course, my child.”
- - -
The next day, Trump was working on some crosswords when his cleaner Demetri walked into his office as usual.
“Oh! Cabbage! I’m so sorry, beautiful,” he said with sympathetic alarm. He reached over to his coffee and prodded it off the edge of his desk, its dark contents spilling out onto the green carpet. “Totally slipped my mind.”
The cleaner sighed and walked over to the new stain with her cleaning equipment.
*FWUP*
“What was that?” he asked, looking around.
“That? Oh, nothing!” Trump returned quickly. “Just me pursing my lips. Crosswords make me thirsty.”
“But…You had a coffee.”
“Oh don’t be silly beautiful, I wasn’t going to take that away from you, that’s your treat.” He answered with a smile and twitched with strange pleasure.
Demetri furrowed his brow and turned back to the coffee stain, spraying cleaning fluid onto his cloth.
The President smirked and looked down to see Jesus crouched between his naked legs under the desk.
Trump put a finger to his lips and grabbed the back of Christ’s hair to push his mouth down again.
Man, would he have to teach Jesus a thing or two about quiet sucking.
