FDR/Dom [Rated.]

Viktor Krum - Inactive November 29th 2010, 6:51 am

This is my first Crack Fic.
Dom loves FDR. Mhm.

Dom stood at the back door of the white house, nervously adjusting her skirt as she waited for security to let her in. Frank had told her to come in the back way to keep the paparazzi at the front gates from spotting her identity. She smiled politely as a security guard by the name of Tom opened the door and showed her inside, asking her to wait in the Oval Office until Frank was ready.

It had only been a few minutes or so until there was a knock at the door and a very presidential Franklin Delano Roosevelt rolled into the room in his wheelchair. “You must be Dom,” he observed with a small nod of recognition, realizing who she was from the picture she had sent him. She had sent him a fan letter not too long ago and after the kind things she had written in said letter, he couldn’t help but invite her to the white house for his birthday. She was much prettier in person though, that was certain.

“Mr. President,” Dom greeted in a soft voice as she stood up from her seat on the couch. She had always been a huge admirer of everything FDR had done and the power the man before her had was almost intoxicating. Just the thought of all his plans was enough to make her swoon. “Thank you again for inviting me here today. It’s an honor, sir.”

“Sir? Please, call me Frank,” he said with a simple hand wave, rolling himself closer to the center of the room. “So tell me Dom, what brings you here today? I got your letter obviously, but is there anything in particular you wanted to discuss with me?”

Spoken like a true president. Dom sighed with longing and found herself absentmindedly fixing her hair as if self conscious of how she looked in front of the man she admired so very much. “Oh. Well, I actually had a show prepared—If you’d like to see it, that is.”

Frank blinked in confused and tilted his head to the side. “Oh, really? Well, I’m all yours. You can just…Well, whenever you’re ready, Dom.”

Dom nodded and took a deep breath. She hadn’t been nervous until just now, but she couldn’t back down. Not after all the hard work she had put into this. There was no music, but she was a performer. She didn’t need it to put on a show. “Happy birthday…To you,” she sang slowly, smiling over at Frank who was intently watching her performance. “Happy birthday…to…you. Happy birthday Mr. President…Happy birthday to you.” By now she was right in front of the president, and without thinking she found herself resting both hands on the sides of his wheelchair, a wicked grin etched across her face. “And that wasn’t even the best part,” she said, drunk with lust that the man’s power provided for her. She dropped her hands to Frank’s zipper, locking eyes with him as she slowly slid it down, not surprised to find that the president was hard from her excellent show she had put on for him. With a bit of effort, she eventually got the man’s pants around his knees, along with his boxers to reveal his powerful cock. “Wow. Mr. President,” she murmured breathlessly, thoughts of the New Deal flooding her intelligent, little head. She rested both knees on either side of Frank’s legs, relieved that the wheelchair was big enough to provide them with enough room, and when Frank returned her lustful look, she lowered herself onto him, for she had not worn panties to this joyous event. She rode Frank like she rode the horses back at the ranch, fast and furious as she moaned his name. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a dream. But it was when Frank groaned in reply that she realized this was no dream. This was the real deal, and it was glorious.