“I’m not going to back down on the abortion language, Nancy. No Federal funding for abortions. Ever.” He gasped as Nancy stepped forward and grabbed his scrotum. She squeezed, just a few pounds of pressure below his pain threshold. “These chompersh come right out, Bhart.” Nancy sucked down the top plate of her expertly made dentures and used her tongue to dart them in and out of her mouth. “You ever have a gum job, Bart?” Nancy asked, clacking the dentures back in place. “Throat fuck me, shit in my mouth, I don’t care. Just vote my way.” Her fetid breath carried a whiff of corruption. Nancy was dying, but Bart’s wife hadn’t touched him in years.
“Turn around,” he said thickly. “I’m going to fuck you right in the shit facktory.”