”“Now see here, Mr. Adams. I am the President of the United States. People do what I tell them to!”“You can’t tell me to cheat on my wife. I...won’t do it!”Over the past twenty-five years, the office of President of the United States had become so ridiculed and impoverished that no one really did what POTUS said to. It had evolved into a largely ceremonial role, not terribly different than being Queen of England, though with a shorter term. At the rate she was going, she’d outlive her grandson as. For my part, I wished that Jill hadn't been a participant in the ribbing. She was hanging on Andy's arm for most of the evening. As far as I knew, she never actually said anything to Tommy, but she certainly joined in the laughter with Andy and his friends. At one point, I met her in the hallway leading to the boys' and girls' rooms, and asked her if she would please knock it off. She just rolled her eyes at me, as if she couldn't believe what a wuss I'd turned into.The music was fun; I didn't. It looked just like the last owner, Fred Carpenter, left it in 1917. The house had a white exterior with multi-pane windows and a detached one-car garage. Now the garage was a different story. It looked a hundred years old and was leaning against the large maple tree next to it on the south side of the house. But the house looked like it always had. Electricity had not come to this area until the 1930s, so the house never had electricity run to it.Lights were seen in the house sometime in the. Only the pounding in my pussy convinces me I still exist, and that my physical form has not reduced itself to erotic semi-conscious plasma.I think then how magic my sex is, and picture Mutant John in his hospital bed being revived, as if my orgasmic energy is drawing him back to Earth.I think of Ronson in his trailer, no longer quite so lost. In his uneasy slumber, he senses what his happening a few miles away like a light igniting in the dark landscape. This explosion of erotic sorcery brings.