“My
first night on the bus was mind-opening in so many ways,” writes
‘Heather.’ “For most of the evening, as we sped down the highway, puffs
of pot smoke billowed out of the cracked-open windows. As we toked into
the night, the burning in my lungs became a ‘berning’ in my loins.
Before long Bernie took two of us into the sleeping quarters in the
back and, like a true socialist,
“Bernie
has that jungle fever,” we were told by ‘LaShawn’. It seemed that at
any given time, Sanders had four or five black women as part of his
groupie entourage. As one diary entry illustrated, this was not
uncommon.
made sure we were both fully – and equitably – satisfied. After a
sensible session with this gentle yet vigorous lover, it was only then
I realized his trademark unkempt hair was the result of habitually
leaving the bus fresh after administering equitable sexual enchantment.”
“Last night was the greatest
experience of my life,” writes ‘Trisha’. “LeShawn, Justine and I were
taken into Bernie’s hotel room and kept there, as Bernie’s personal
communal property, throughout a two-day campaign stop. I had never had
sex with a man that old before, but before I knew it he had us all
experimenting with one another while he stood at the foot of the bed,
his member at full attention, as he coolly recited his campaign
strategy for economic reform. Eros, dear diary, was at that moment
radically redefined.”
“For my second night on the
bus, Bernie wanted six of us to lay on the bed in a circle, black to
white to black and so on, with our mouths buried in each others’
privates. Some of the ladies were a little unfamiliar with this, but
after my time with Joe Biden on the Obama campaign, I was very used to
delving deep into other women. This was a unique experience, though,
and it was only further proof of just how adamant he has always been
about civil rights. It was then that I felt his cock in my a**.”
[FULL]
