"If thish even gets out, I'll have toh deny I knowsh you, dear Jonathan," Nancy whispered, the rot at the core of her being foaming out of her mouth in rancid waves.
"It's fine, Nancy. I don't care about me, you and the bill are all that matters," Jonathan murmured in the grey nightmare of her crotch. He went back to licking the scab that covered her clitoral hood. It tasted like mushrooms and peppermint.
"Wesh can make thesh CBO play ball, but I'm worried about the publish-ick," she said. She shuddered under the attention of his bullshit-coated tongue, the crispy folds of her withered labia rasping together like insect wings.
Jonathan screwed a finger into her slack anus and then another. "We make the whole thing completely opaque. No one will be able to figure out what what is even the damn bill." He paused to spit in her change purse. "The idiots in the flyover states won't know what hit them."
"Ah, Jonathan. Dosh it! Dosh it, now!" she slurred, covering the top of his head in ancient spittle.
He jerked his fingers from her ass, drew back to make a fist and then hit her in the crotch as hard as he could. She screamed and howled.
The wet, dull thuds of Nancy getting what she demanded echoed through the legislative chamber.