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02 Temmuz 2022, 13:31
Over the last few weeks, at least one of my friends announced every day what their parents were getting them for their high school graduation present. The gift list included used cars, new cars, trips to Florida, trips to Mexico, and my best friend, Sarah was about to get handed the keys to her Uncle?s condo in midtown Manhattan for 18 months. Her Dad set a period of time that long, for her to break onto Broadway or come back home to Minnesota. If I was lucky, my parents might take me out to dinner at Applebees after the graduation ceremony. My prospects weren?t looking so hot now that my high school career was almost over. As I sat at my computer waiting for it to boot up, I looked in the mirror. ?Abbey,? I said to myself, ?You had a pretty good run the last three years. Five varsity letters in sports, a 4.0 GPA, and elected Homecoming Queen last fall.? I liked the way I looked and so did the boys at school. I am 5? 8?, 125 pounds, long auburn hair, sparkly emerald green eyes, 34B breasts, and curves exactly where they were supposed to be. But how long will this last? Where to next? I wondered if I was going to be one of those who peaked in high school and would begin a long slow spiral down to oblivion. The old computer finally flickered to life and shook me out of my musings. I began to check my e-mail. ?Here is an interesting one,? I thought, ?Have Dinner with a big Hollywood Star and the next President of the United States.? I clicked it open. ?How would you and a guest like to spend an evening with our Presidential candidate at the home of his big-time Hollywood friend for dinner?? the e-mail started. ?All you have to do is contribute a minimum of fifteen dollars to the campaign, within 48 hours, to be entered in the contest drawing.? My eyes, followed down the checklist of suggested donations, to the bottom of the e-mail and this line, ?P.S. Don?t worry about the airfare to Los Angles, buying clothes, or paying for a hotel. We will, of course, pick up the entire cost for your V.I.P. dining experience with the candidate and the star.? ?Fifteen dollars? That?s not so much,? I reasoned. I had already decided etimesgut escort (http://kadinguzelligi.com/ad-category/etimesgut-escort/) that I was going to cast my first vote for this guy anyway. I had even stood up at the caucus in February and declared myself for him (my attendance there sealed my ?A? in Mr. Harrington?s civics class). I entered my credit card number, confirmed I was eighteen years old or older, pushed the fifteen dollar contribution button, and promptly reached my credit card limit. Now, if I could only win, this would be a graduation present all right - a dinner with Mr. Dreamboat and the next President of the United States in Los Angeles, California. Six days later and now an official High School Graduate, I received an e-mail with the subject, ?Congratulations, You Won!? I was about to delete it as junk mail when I recognized the name. I clicked it open. I stared at it over and over as I read, ?You have been chosen to have dinner with the future President of the United States at the home of his Hollywood Star friend.? There was a telephone number to call, immediately, to confirm my acceptance. I called within the next second and talked to a senior campaign official. He needed my social security number to run a security clearance on me and the name and social security number of my guest. I gave him my social security number and he said, if I was cleared by the Secret Service, he would send me a complete itinerary and all the particulars I would need for the trip. I was also told I needed to select a guest as soon as possible and get them cleared too. I had 24 hours to select someone. I went running into the living room screaming to my parents. They wouldn?t believe it at first. I had to show them the contest and e-mails on my computer to convince them. It got a little ugly, for awhile, about who my guest was going to be. You can hear it now can?t you? ?As long as you live in my house, as long as I am paying for your college, and the ever popular, you will listen to your father,? were among some of the phrases used as my parents crossed my choices for guest off my list. Finally it was settled, the older eryaman escort (http://kadinguzelligi.com/ad-category/eryaman-escort/) daughter of our neighbor would be my guest. That was pretty funny, I thought to myself as I went back to my room to call Kara. She would be my chaperone? My parents had no clue as to what this ?nice, responsible young lady? had been doing up at college the last two years. Kara prided herself being Alpha Omicron Pi?s number one party girl. As for her keeping me chaste in ?the evil Gomorrah of Los Angeles?, that was the biggest joke. At twenty-one years of age, 5? 9?, red hair like mine, beautiful deep blue eyes, 135 pounds, and luscious 36C breasts, well let?s just say she didn?t fight off the guys. Over the next few days, with a flurry of e-mails, the trip started to come together. The Pine City Pioneer, our local paper, came out and took our pictures and ran a big story - and it was a big story in Pine City, Minnesota. All the TV stations from Minneapolis came up to do interviews with me. The Secret Service told me to only talk in generalities and not to give anyone any specifics about our itinerary. This was really happening! At last, the day to leave was here. Kara and I were packed early and sat on the front porch, like a couple of lonely puppies waiting for their master to come home, watching for our limousine to arrive. The stretch town car pulled up and out came two absolutely handsome men in their late twenties, both wearing dark blue suits and sunglasses. Both men, one black and one white, introduced themselves to my father and presented him with their identification. It turned out these weren?t Secret Service agents, but former Army Rangers who now worked campaign security. They would deliver us to Los Angeles and to Secret Service agents there. My father received guarantees that we would both be under constant protective services until we were delivered back to him in 72 hours safe and sound. Kara and I started to pick up our bags, to load in the limo, when the two men grabbed them from us. ?V.I.P.?s do not carry their bags Miss,? the guard stated. They opened the doors and Kara and I slid sincan escort (http://kadinguzelligi.com/ad-category/sincan-escort/) our little asses along smooth luxurious leather upholstery. ?Fasten your seat belts ma?am,? ordered my guard, the black man, who had introduced himself as Sam. With clicks of seat belts, we pulled away from the curb for the hour and a half hour drive to the Minneapolis International Airport. We laughed as the Pioneer?s photographer tried to shoot pictures of us through the heavily tinted windows. After we started down the interstate, Kara tapped the partition. It lowered, and Sam said, ?Yes ma?am?? ?Any chance a girl could get something to drink?? questioned my chaperone. ?Yes ma?am,? he said as the partition closed and a panel in front of us raised. A full bar, soft drinks, orange juice, cheese, fruit, fresh crescents, and champagne appeared before us. Kara picked up the chilled champagne bottle and looked at it. ?Hmmm, Krug Grand Cuvee,? mused my worldly know-it-all neighbor, ?I hope it?s as good as Andre. Let?s make mimosas--but with Seven-Up in yours my little underaged friend!? Just past Roseville, with the bottle empty, Kara started feeding me grapes and cheese. ?Just like a Roman orgy,? she said with her face flushed from the alcohol as she gave me a long deep kiss. Startled, but curious, I relaxed and returned the kiss. I wondered if the guards could see. I hoped they could. ?This is just the beginning Abbey,? Kara said with a wink. The kissing, cuddling, sensuous fondling of each others breasts, along with a couple of sneaked mimosas made the trip to the airport speed by. We were there. I tapped on the partition. ?What airline are we flying Sam?? I asked. ?Ma?am, V.I.P.s do not fly on the airlines,? Sam told me, ?We have a chartered jet waiting to take us to LAX.? ?No TSA security checks?? slurred Kara ever so slightly, ?I can keep my shoes on? No pat downs or strip searches?? ?Only if you want one ma?am,? Sam said with a very slight grin on his face. The limo pulled up to a small Cessna 525B Citation six passenger jet. The pilot welcomed us on board as our two men loaded our luggage for the flight to LA. ?Say goodbye to Randall, ladies," Sam said as he shook the man?s hand. ?Isn?t ?notSam? coming?? Kara whispered to me. ?You don?t need two guards at 35,000 feet ladies,? finished Sam. ?We don?t?? whispered Kara again with a smirk on her lips, ?I think we need two or three anyway.? This plane was absolute luxury.