The world is my endless fuckfest

Having now won the election, and in doing so partially told my story, I figured it was time to tell it to the world more clearly. To do so, I'd allowed a journalist, Max Murphy, a long interview with me. As he entered, I was displayed mostly like he and everryone had seen me by now at countless debates and speeches: clad in a mostly see-through top that did more of displaying my breasts than hiding them, and a tiny miniskirt, currently hiked up by the clerk who was at the moment railing my ass. His dick wasn't anything amazing, but after a millenium of almost constant fucking, I felt more naked without a dick in me than with, and also I had won the election on a platform of promises of reforms towards more free use of women. What kind of leader would I then be if I did not let my own staff have their way with me?

"Madam President, the journalist is here", my secretary said. Lara was not just my secretary, but also my granddaughter, though she looked to be in her mid-twenties while I still looked like eighteen or nineteen. She was dressed like a slutty secretary from some cheap porno, much like I hoped would be enforced by law as soon as I could get my ideas past parliament.

"Ah, that's very good, dear", I answered. "Send him in, and make sure that while he is here I am not to be disturbed by anything less than a national emergency."

"Very good. And if the rest of the staff wants to make use of your body for your new workplace policies?"

"No more than one at a time, in addition to the journalist. Much as I'd appreciate a good gangbang, I need to be able to concentrate. Tell them that they'll have to make do with the female staff. Or", I smiled, knowing that this last would be the most likely, "handle them yourself."

Mr. Murphy entered, and if he was in any way surprised by how I welcomed him, it didn't show. Then again, he had covered a lot of my recent political career, and certainly seen me like this before. I couldn't remember if he'd been involved with the actual fucking, but wouldn't be surprised to learn of it.

"Welcome, Mr. Murphy", I greeted him. "I hope you don't mind sharing me a bit? I do have duties to my subordinates, you know." I winked. "But if you want to make use of me, my fuckholes are at your disposal."

"Uh, em... Thank you, madam President... I, er... might take you up on that in a bit. But first, I'd like to get started."

"Of course, of course. I've been rather secretive about parts of my past, but that's over now. Should I start at the very beginning, or do you have some other part of my life that is more interesting? Or are you here to write a column about the specifics of my promises during the election?