#27599 - The old president had indeed worked himself into a serious sweat as he beat the teen. He gripped her shoulders and thrust himself into her, pushing himself ball deep inside of her with one brutal thrust. “Got to make sure I got good traction,” he said as he put his shoes back on and walked across the room to grab the old black riding crop he had mounted on the wall next to his cat-o’-nine-tails, his bullwhip, and his brass knuckles, all of which he used both for fun and as a symbol of his presidency.
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