Mitt Romney/Paul Ryan Porn

Yesterday I bought a short story on Smashwords called Dressage: A Mitt Romney/Paul Ryan Presidential Slash-fic by Bailey Marie, author of Daddy’s Little College Girl 3: Step-Daddy Gives a Spanking. It is, as far as I can tell, the first Mitt Romney/Paul Ryan pony-boy sex story and as such it is an important piece of American history.

Warning: you cannot un-read these excerpts.

“As he came through the stable door, he was handed a note by one of the stable boys.

‘This message arrived with the….horse… Sir’.

‘Mitt,’ the handwritten letter began, ‘I want to show you how far I’m willing to go to be your VP pick. Together, we can make the rich richer than they’ve ever been…and have plenty of fun along the way. Yours, Paul’.”

“He took the final steps into the main stable area, shocked and delighted by the sight he saw. It was a horse, in a manner of speaking, but not really.

‘Paul?’ Mitt asked, curiously. ‘Is that you?’

A meaty neigh came out of the man before him, stark naked and on all fours. He wore a mohawk of a wig, a $20,000 polished leather saddle over his back, and a plug stuffed into his backside that gave him a beautiful arching tail. He reared up onto his hind legs, revealing the horse-like manhood on his underside.

Romney felt the bulge in his pants reserved for dressage tighten. An overwhelming desire to ride this creature washed over him and pulsated into his loins and puckered his asshole with desire.”

“The Congressman neighed and whinnied once more, rearing back just a little bit. He was ready and Romney knew it.

‘I’m not in the mood for a saddle today, Congressman. I’m going to do this bareback.’

Mitt reached beneath his ride once more and unstrapped the buckle holding the saddle to him on. Lifting it up, he was impressed by its weight. For Ryan to have held so much on his back, it was meant he really was strong and fearless. Perhaps he would make a great Vice Presidential contender…

Romney tossed the saddle aside as though it were worthless and stood over the Congressmen with his back between his legs.”

“‘Screw me like we’ll screw the poor,’ Mitt called out and he could feel a pressure building on his spread cavity… It grew and grew until he relaxed his muscles enough to allow his ‘horse’ entrance. He could feel the pressure deep in his stomach and pressing down on his prostate, tickling the naughty parts of his eternal soul.”

The internet, ladies and gentlemen. The internet.