If there's one candidate who's an expert on erotic fiction, it's Newt Gingrich. Think about it: He's had three wives (there's your eroticism), and he thought he could be president (there's your fiction). So you can imagine our excitement when a Comedy Central source who shall remain anonymous delivered a manila envelope labeled "N.G. – XXX" to the Indecision offices. These never-before-published excerpts we found inside may shock you…
* "Your $500 check has bounced; you can't be on the ballot," the Utah elections director tells me. He is coy, playful. "Come on," I tease, bending over to reveal just a hint of my ample breasts. "Can't we work something out?" He ponders a moment. "No."
* I eye her lustily, the robe draped loosely around my expansive chest. "Hey," I say. "Can I be married to you but also sleep with other women?"
* "I'm going to f*** you now," he growls, balling his fist in my hair. I'd expected this from Romney, but not one of his staffers.
* "I didn't order anything," I offer up weakly, sexual frustration bubbling deep within my loins. But it's too late… Herman has already entered, already put down the pizza box. I am his.
* "Your assets have been liquidated," he tells me. "Liquidated?" I raise my eyebrows, imagining his engorged member pulsating in my supple grip. "This isn't about sex," he says. I raise my eyebrows even higher. "No," he whispers. "Your health care think tank has run out of money."
* I have no doubt whatsoever that the penguin wanted to f*** me.
* A secret rendezvous with the front-runner? It feels forbidden… and so much more delicious because of it. He enters and puts his hands on my ass. "Do as I say," he orders. But I am not broken so easily.
* The ball gag tastes like his sweat, muffling my moans with every spank. He pauses, my flesh quivering. "Marcus," I gasp. "Harder."
* I bristled at his insolence, this cocky young reporter daring to ask about my private affairs with Mr. Ailes. I felt probed, manhandled. Violated… and I wanted more.
* "I'm in the hospital being treated for cancer," she said. "I can't **** your **** while you **** my *****, especially not with ****** ***** watching from the corner. What are you, crazy? Jesus." She takes the game of seduction seriously — as do I. "Fine," I reply, eyeing her lustily. "Can you just sign these divorce papers?"
* I like eating doughnuts while making love.
Tags: Books, Mitt Romney, Newt Gingrich, Primaries, Republicans, Sex