.He has moved around to her side of the counter now. They sit at stools, next to each other, him just slightly facing her, her leaning forward against...the counter. He trails one finger, barely touching, along her slightly exposed thigh and asks her when she last had an orgasm? He stops touching her now. Sits back. He says he understands and hopes she knows how much he cares for both her and her husband. And that every marriage has ups and downs. He looks her in the eye and tells her he would do. My somewhat limited left hand was still on her other breast, but my right – my “good” hand – was now free and I sent it exploring, tickling my way down her tummy until her mons Venus perfectly filled my palm, warm and yielding, and I curled my fingers into the folds of her slick sex. She parted her legs eagerly and pressed her mound into my hand as she thrust her hips down, demanding more.She wanted… no, needed me to touch her, I could sense the hunger to feel my fingers at her pussy, her need. We headed over to the motel and, as we pulled into the parking garage, I told Shelby that I would see her at home in the morning. I put my arm around June as we went to Room 704. Shelby and Chuck were a couple of doors down in 710. We walked into the room and June looked at me."What do we do now? As much as I would like to we can't make love. As you said, 'I'm not worth a half million dollars, '" she smiled.The video was on, but there is no sound to these units. It made them a much quieter unit. "Good morning, ma'am," he says to the cashier. "I'd like to cash this check." Of course, sir," she replies. "Do you have your drivers license?" Actually, no," Obama says. "I didn't drive myself and, honestly, I didn't think I'd need to show any ID. I mean, I am the president." Yes, sir, I know who you are. But I'm afraid that, federal banking regulations being what they are, I'll need to see a photo ID."Obama sighs in consternation."But just ask anyone at the bank," he says."They all know who I.