Sharply I whipped my faced forward, only to sneak a quick look her way again to see that she was still looking at me, and slightly grinning. I shifted... uncomfortably in my seat, and started preparing something to say -- what I could not figure -- as if being asked to plead my case, when she was the one who instead chose to spark conversation. Leaning in my direction, she looked from front to back and then back at me and stuck her hand down her skirt. I stared, too dumbfounded to jump back,. And what about calling Trump? Traditionally the loser calls...”“ ... fuck tradition, John!” she angrily shrieked. “And fuck Trump! This election was all about erasing tradition! Your job was to get that message out! Now what? Now fucking what! The deplorables in gun and God country have gone and elected a MAN!”Podesta, dazed by her rebuke, backed away.“I’m too ... it’s very late. I’m too tired. I need Bill. You give the speech. You go downstairs. Tell people I have a headache.”“All right,. I went to the small house in the garden to look closely how and where can I do it. There, as I know the men’s hall, where they fuck, a set of armchairs, and an arab sitting set, on the ground. “surely they are fucking on the ground at the rear side.” I thought to myself. For my luck there was marble shelves by the door where there are lots of books and encyclopedias my father brings in all the time, and where sometimes he sets a lot to read. The third shelf was a narrow one, as if it was. She knew what her job entailed and testing each member of the camp was part of it; Wearing her button-up with a few missing buttons to expose her chest and having her uniform pants tight enough to define her thick ass and thighs so much so that it barely left the pant-crease defined. One would wonder how she could sit in those clothes, but none dare question aloud.This uniform, tight and teasing, roused not only the members from bed early in the morning but kept their dicks roused from slumber.