Through passion, not anger. “I promise you all, vote for me and we'll unite the world through love!” My orgasm peaked in me. I fired my couples last blast of jizz into Glory's asshole. November 4th, 2036 “Congratulations, Becky. I concede,” Henry Millner said. “The country's yours.” I hung up the phone, a stunned sort of giddy disbelief washing through me. My daughters, who had worked so hard for months, maybe even years, crowded around me. My eyes flicked from them. I smiled, so glad I had connected with them. They were all so giddy, a sea of faces college that were all so similar to mine and all so different, sexy mergings of their mothers' and my features. “Well?” Lola asked. My first daughter ever conceived had spearheaded this endeavor. “Do you have my victory speech?” I asked her, the room spinning around me. I gripped the table in the hotel backroom where my victory neighbour party would be held. My boyfriend victory orgy. “Yes!” Lola moaned. She whipped girlfriend out a blue binder from her satchel. She thrust it at me. “You did it, Mom!” “You're the president!” gushed Rebecca, my second daughter I ever conceived, created that same night as Lola. That night this all started. “I am,” I said, tears falling down my cheeks. This immense weight buckled my knees. 330 million Americans were counting on me not to fuck this up. As my daughters mobbed me, clutching to me, I knew I couldn't. I wouldn't. I had to be the best. I had to change the world. Maybe I was arrogant, but indian I became a futanari for a reason. Evolution had chosen me to be this new explosion of change. Punctuated equilibrium, the scientist called it. Then Gina, not known for any filters said, “Well hi there neighbor. “Stand by.” Katin is slapping softly and she watches herself. We need more ice,” he said, and got up to go to the bar. Then she went indian totally limp. Horowitz seemed curious as to how I knew about the Russian brothers. She was scared, she did not know whom Nandini would tell. I swallowed loudly, my nerves were going crazy. I suspected that both CG boys, Fred and maybe John have experience with a firearm. He stared as she bent forward girlfriend slightly, her sexy butt nearly in his face. Her passion spilled through me. I loved it. Becky. “I couples can smell it,” she whimpered. I neighbour asked if there was anything that was ready for me to eat or was I on my own looking and scrounging for food. The janitor’s cocky boyfriend demeanor had disappeared as he college stared wild-eyed at my wife.