"Barron!" his mom's voice snapped him out of his daydream.
"Yes mom?"
"What did I just say?" Melania sounded angry, but Barron couldn't remember for the life of him what she had said before that. In fact, he didn't remember anything from last night except for the marvelous sounds from his parents' bedroom. That was all he could think about.
"Barron, I told you to go and get dressed, the Braxtons will be here soon."
Barron nodded sleepily, reaching for his glass of orange juice, but clumsily knocked it over instead. His bad luck only worsened when his dad came in at that exact moment. Donald looked at Barron in disgust before Barron ran up to his room to change, as to not give his father the satisfaction of criticizing him.
As he was pulling on a new, semi clean shirt, Barron heard a car pulling up the driveway. It must be the Braxtons. Barron knew nothing about them except that they were here to negotiate a deal with his father. His father had told him earlier that they had kids around his age. He had also begged him to stay outside, play with them, and to stay out of trouble while he confirmed the deal.
Barron opened the front door to see the Braxtons arrive in a gold, glimmering Lamborghini. Out came a woman wearing an extravagant green dress and a man wearing a nice green suit. Donald and Melania walked to greet them. As his father passed by, Barron noticed he had a rather sour look on his face. For the first time, it seemed it wasn't aimed at Barron, but rather at Mr. Braxton.
Donald Trump was peeved. Although this was his default emotion, he felt it more than ever now, staring into this man's sharp blue eyes. This was the man who had taken not wealth from him, but his wife's affection. Donald had had many wives in the past, but none as obedient as Melania. And this man, who had once been his dearest friend, had taken her loyalty from him. Donald just knew it. He just didn't have any proof of it. Yet.
Melania couldn't stop staring at Mrs. Braxton, or Charlotte, as she liked to call her in her head. Or in her daydreams, when she was feeling horny. It had been a year, and Charlotte looked as beautiful as ever. Melania wondered if she even remembered her or the time they spent together at the beach. She remembered how they would go out for a "lady's day" and hold hands, eat icecream and make hot, steamy love on their private beach. Melania only wondered if Charlotte still felt the same. It had been a long time though, and Melania had accepted months ago that she would not dwell on the past. Still, her heart gave a flutter when Charlotte's big, glowing, green eyes passed over her and lingered for a moment too long. All the memories that she had worked so hard to forget about all came flooding back…
A younger Melania stepped into Donald's study. He had said he wanted to talk to her. Since most of the "talking" that went on between them involved something sexual, she wasn't looking forward to it. But this time, his hand was on a Zoopal full of dino nuggies instead of in his pants.
"What was it you needed?"
"You remember my greasy looking friend Bruce Braxton don't you?"
Melania nodded. He and her husband had been longtime friends, both in the hotel business.
Trump continued: "Well he just bought this beach house down in Hawaii, and he invited the two of us over for a funky party with balloon animals made out of condoms, next week. Lots of important people will be there."
"That sounds very exciting, Donald. Let Bruce know that I'm excited for it. But what about Barron? Did he get an invitation too?"
"Nah, can't have him messing up all my super secret and super illegal deals. You know there will be very important people there. And I haven't seen my old buddy Jeffrey Epstein in a while. I look forward to catching up with him."
"But what about Barron? We can't leave him home, he'll burn the place down, or break my special plates from Vladimir Putin himself!"
"Don't worry dear, we'll find someone. That woman down the street, Patricia, has always been fond of him for reasons I cannot comprehend. We'll leave him with her."
Melania reluctantly agreed. There weren't many other options.
Donald and Melania met Bruce and his wife, Charlotte, at their beach house. It had been a long flight for Melania, and they had boarded the private jet late because Barron was complaining about how Patricia, or Miss Beeves as he called her, smelled like wet cats. When they arrived at the Braxtons' house, everyone was already there. As the Braxtons introduced them to the other guests, Melania couldn't stop looking at Charlotte. She had a sharp jawline, dangerous cheek bones, delicate features, and sparkling green eyes that reminded Melania of her emeralds back home.
The party was in full swing. There was dancing and refreshments and cocktails. Men with fancy suits and women in long dresses twirled past Melania as she made her way to the kitchen with the intention of finding Charlotte to help her with the refreshments. She found her at the stove, pulling a freshly baked cake out of the oven. It was obvious she had a little too much to drink and was a tad tipsy.
"Do you need help with anything?"
"I think everything's in order," Charlotte maintained that alluring eye contact.
There was a long silence, and Melania turned to go.
"Wait" Charlotte interjected.
Charlotte was looking at Melania with a wondering expression on her beautiful face, then began to walk toward her. There was a ledge by the doorframe, and Charlotte stumbled over it in her tipsy state. Melania caught her in her arms. The two were now face to face.
Charlotte put her head on Melania's shoulder and sighed. The ocean lapped all around them in the moonlight, and the sand felt warm on their skin. They had left the party for the privacy of the beach. There, Melania and Charlotte's interlocked hands slowly unraveled. Charlotte started to caress Melania's shoulder and brought it down to her thigh leaving one finger near her already soaking wet pussy. At that moment, the two women got lost in each other's eyes. They knew what they were about to do, and they were fully aware of the possible consequences. But they didn't care. They would do anything for each other. Charlotte's words broke the ever so palpable sexual tension, "Is this okay? Are you ready?" Melania wanted Charlotte with every fiber in her body, "Yes!" she exclaimed with all her love. Melania reached her hand and slid it across Charlotte's collarbone, slyly undressing her. Suddenly, Charlotte pulled Melania in close and started kissing her. The more intense the makeout got, the faster the clothes were ripped off. Melania shoved Charlotte onto the ground, her hand around Charlotte's throat. Instantly, the two women's breasts were erect. The night was filled with sounds of heavy breathing, moaning, and pure ecstasy. Melania dragged her tongue from Charlotte's slim stomach to her wet pussy. The more Charlotte squirmed, the deeper Melania's tongue went. The two lovers took turns sucking each other's tits and shoving their fingers in each other's genitals. They writhed in rhythm and played with each other's clits. The circular motions and jaggid movements led them both to climax. The moon swore that it never saw such glorious sex.
Unfortunately, the two forbidden lovers had to go back to the party. Then they snuck back, making sure nobody saw them sneak through the back door.
Donald had just had a great conversation with his friend Jeffrey about Jeffrey's frequent visits to his 11 year old niece's house, but Donald was getting worried. He hadn't seen Melania for a few hours, and Bruce hadn't brought out the cake yet. Donald, hungry as he was, decided to go search for the man with the cake instead of his wife. He left the main party room, past a condom-made balloon animal, into the lounge. It was then that Bruce appeared at the door.
"Bruce, where's the cake? It was supposed to be out by now. I'm hungry." Donald questioned.
"You're right, Donald. My apologies. I've actually been out, getting some rare champagne. It was a once in a lifetime deal!"
They both rejoined the party, where Donald found Melania at the refreshments table. As she turned toward him, he noticed her hair was disheveled and her makeup smudged. Bruce walked past, smiling at Melania and going to greet a man with slicked hair who had just arrived.
"Where were you?" Donald asked, slightly suspicious.
"I-" Melania stammered, "I was in the kitchen."
"For hours?"
"Well yes, I wanted to get away from the noise, it was all too much for me." Melania said, hoping her words would enchant Donald's sexist ways.
Donald didn't say anything. He wanted to talk to Bruce and find out what his wife had really been up to.
As he neared Bruce, he noticed something on his friend's cheek. Upon closer inspection he realized it was a red lipstick print. Looking back at Melania, he noticed her red lipstick was smudged. Both had been gone at the same time. Fear, quickly turning into anger, struck Donald as he realized what must have happened. "That dirty man." Thought Donald. "Him… and Melania?" Donald thought back to when he had seen Bruce come in. He didn't remember him carrying any champagne.
"Melania, we had better be going," Donald found his wife again and was trying to convince her to leave.
Melania, being obedient, agreed, but said, "I would love to say goodbye to the Braxtons before we go. They were so kind to invite us."
Donald's face turned a shade redder, and he pulled Melania out the door. "No, we really should be going" he fumed. He took short angry steps with his cheating wife by his side. If Donald had paid better attention, he would have noticed the bottles of rare champagne on the table, or that the lipstick print on Bruce's cheek was a few shades darker than the kind Melania was wearing. But in his fit of anger all he could think about was putting his fist into Mr. Braxton's face.
Over the next few months, Donald observed Melania frequently leaving to visit the Braxtons, who she had seemed to get extraordinary close with. When Donald questioned her on the matter, all Melania had to say was that she and Charlotte were good friends. But Donald knew what he had seen that night at the party. So whenever Melania wanted to go visit, he wouldn't let her go. He was sure it was Bruce, not Charlotte that Melania was so interested in. And he was sure that they were doing way more than sitting in his lounge drinking wine and catching up on the current events.
But all this nonsense was about to end. Donald stood, in present day, face to face with the man who he believed had taken his wife's loyalty.
"Lesbians
By Melania
No matter how hard i try, i always end up loving her
No matter how hard i try, these feelings always occur
Because of her, the beach has a glow
Because of her, my heart seems to flow
I can't keep it in, she makes me hurt
I can't keep it in, she makes me squirt
She is my lover, she is my heart
She makes my heart flutter, she makes my pussy fart"