Trump Temptations: The Billionaire & The Bellboy

Chapter 2: Blood Sausage

I walked through downtown thinking about everything. Should I go back to meet him at 8pm? No. I can't do that. What am I thinking? I'm thinking about him. I couldn't fight it anymore. I had to admit it, I wanted his geriatric 2006 Perez Hilton jello body, and I wanted it bad. But before long we had a new problem, my lustful thoughts had awoken the purple-headed yogurt slinger in my pants. This walk was getting real... hard, real fast. I needed to get home. Luckily I lived right around the corner. I opened the door and quickly jogged up the stairs, making sure nobody saw the bulging blood sausage I was rocking. I sat down on the couch and before I could even take a breath my roommate, Nickole, opened the door and came out. "What's up, you fat bitch" she asked. "Not a whole lot," I lied. I had to. I couldn't tell her.

"Why are you acting so fucking weird?" she asked. "I'm not," I said. "I met a boy." "Is he cute?" she asked as she made a sandwich. "Gorgeous. His face is wrinkled like a beautiful overflowing flesh toilet." I said, daydreaming. "What the fuck does that mean, that's really weird. Nobody fucking talks like that" she said, "He's also rich" I followed. "Oh okay, go get that dick boo" she said. I gazed at the clock, 6pm already? I hadn't even gone shopping yet.

I rushed to the mall, I needed to get an outfit and get home in time to change. I quickly found a perfect black suit and was on my way home. I googled him on the train home, I wanted to know everything about him. His Wikipedia page says he's 69 year young, what a magical number. I'd like to find out more about that. It also says that his nickname is "The Donald," but I'm pretty sure they mean "Daddy." I was so excited for our second meeting. I couldn't believe this was happening. I got changed and looked myself in the mirror. "You can do this." I repeated to my reflection. I got myself pretty and I headed out.