The president twisted to look over his shoulder, jaw dropping at the unexpected appearance of his protectors

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Sean Cody - himself was straight until his late twenties. He was born and raised a Mormon, but that didn't stop him from sneaking peeks at the other guys in the locker room after gym class. He liked looking at muscular, developing bodies. In spite of his homo rumblings, which he didn't seem to understand as such, Sean continued to play it straight through his twenties, although he abandoned the Mormons when he was eighteen.

"Mr. President!" exclaimed one agent, horror stuck.
"Oh, my God! What is he doing?" gasped the other.
"Jablonsky! Kosinski!" The president twisted to look over his shoulder, jaw dropping at the unexpected appearance of his protectors. "Thank God you're here! You gotta help me!"
The two treasury agents moved forward swiftly, flanking the president. "We'd better do it." Treasury Agent Frank Jablonsky said crisply. "He's got a meeting with the Secretary of Defense in twenty minutes."
"We've got to get him out of here." Grimly agreed Daniel Kosinski, the heroic junior member of the security team. "Whatever it takes."
"Once he gets started..." Square-jawed, Jablonsky nodded. Neither man underestimated the criticalness of the situation.
"What can I do, Sir?" Kosinski asked the president firmly. The black briefcase containing the war codes, that had followed the American president everywhere with his body guards since the cold war, dropped unnoticed to the carpet with a soft thud.
"Oh Danny, Lemme have it up the butt!" The president moaned. "Pound your perfect prick into my shit chute. I gotta have it!"
"Let's go team!" Treasury agent Jablonsky threw a quick glance at the high tech watch on his wrist. "Insatiable is needed at the Oval Office in 22.41 minutes!" He flung himself forward.
The treasury agents used the code word for the president. Each individual that these dedicated men were assigned to protect, had been given a code name that they were referred to over the agents' communicators. President Clinton's code name was "Insatiable." His wife, the dynamic first lady, Hillary Clinton was code named "Intimidating" and their daughter, lovely Chelsea Clinton, was code named "Inessential."
But there was no time for a discussion of the dynamics of the T-team security! With the practised motions of a skilled agent, whose reflexes were honed by painstaking hours of practice, Agent Jablonsky moved into position behind the still sucking secretary. Kosinski took the position behind the president. Their muscular arms moved like lightening. Wasting not even a second, Jablonsky had his manhood bared in a mere moment. Kosinski had the presidential trousers lowered, only a split instant later.
With a contented gurgle, the foremost leader of the free world folded forward onto Jablonsky's tall turgid prick. His handsome mouth engulfed his agent's aching love weapon. "Shhhgglorpsh! Mllmglmmmg!" moaned the president appreciatively.
As soon as Agent Jablonsky had enticed the first executive to bend forward, his bent over position exposed his well toned muscular ass. Kosinski did not hesitate. The T-men all knew that it was their duty to save the president, up to and including using their own bodies to protect him. Young Danny Kosinski was as dedicated as the many agents who had come to the president's rescue before. So he selflessly covered Bill Clinton's body with his own, as he guided his dick down to the presidential pucker.
"Uhhhhhh!!" Groaned the first throat, as Kosinski plunged his love tool into the well stretched presidential love hole. In a moment, all four men had collapsed to the floor where they sprawled in semi-undress across the presidential seal which was embossed into the carpet. Kosinski's naked ass pumped furiously as he pounded his perfect prick into the place presidentially preferred.
Portions of three piece suits were ripped hastily from the frenzied bodies as they locked, sweaty skin fusing. Naked skin became visible as the writhing muscular men formed a four-way fuck on the floor. Not much dick was visible though, because the rigid pricks of the Nation's dedicated servants were mostly buried to the hilt. Kosinski was generous enough to give a hand job to young Montgomery so that his handsome eight incher would not be neglected.

"16.12 minutes!" Jablonsky warned.
"Glmuuuh! Yuuhhh! Flmuhhck muh!" Ordered the president. And the agents did. Stroke after stroke split the first crevice as Kosinski slammed his dick into asshole one. Incredible erotic gasps and gags mumbled from Bill Clinton's handsome mouth as he milked Jablonsky's enormous prick. Even Bill Clinton's immense appetite for taking cock was satisfied as sweet savory jism spurted from the agent's cocks.
Young Montgomery gasped in pleasure as the delicious flood of presidential cum flooded his mouth. Clinton collapsed, sighing happily. His athletic body shuddered with the delightful aftershocks. Agents Jablonsky and Kosinski were out of breath but they met eyes.
"12.06 minutes." Jablonsky spoke tersely. "Let's get Insatiable on his feet again! Go! Go! Go!"
In only a few more seconds, the two dedicated agents had Clinton zipped and buttoned back into his Fifth Avenue three piece.
"Oooh, Jeffie. You are a honey!" The president cooed.
"Thank you, Sir." The awed young typist breathed.
Neckties were knotted with crisp precise motions.Communicators were clipped back into ears. The black briefcase was retrieved and inspected for damage to the presidential cheese sandwiches. It was only T minus eight minutes and twenty-three seconds when the four men, immaculate again, were leaving the room.
"Listen." Kosinski was saying to big brown eyed Montgomery."What you are doing is great. Just great. We are very happy when you go so far to help out the president, but we keep telling you guys. You gotta check with us first! The man has a tight schedule.You can't drop your drawers for him unless he's got time in his schedule. Now I know you love the guy, sure we all love him. But the man has no sense of time, no sense of priorities and no sense period. So the next time he asks you..."
Ahead of them, Jablonsky was steering the world's most powerful leader down the ornate corridors of power, hustling him along to another urgent historical meeting with the Secretary of defense as to whether the Nation should go to war against all those screaming ragheads in the Middle East.
"Lewinsky!" Clinton was saying plaintively. "Can anyone tell me why the media has got such a death grip fascination on this Lewinsky story? There's not a word of it true. Sure, I bought the dame some presents. I couldn't have anyone thinking I was a fag! But me, let that barracuda mouth on my dick? Why does everybody want to think I had a thing going with Lewinsky....?"

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