I chuckle thinking about Melania and Don’s marriage. They are in love with each other, but there’s gotta be some friction that heats up the bedroom. For instance, Melania is dressed to kill in Paris, living the dream, trying to impress Frenchies, soaking up the adulation…then her husband tweets the next day about the French almost speaking German.
She’s exasperated, All her good will, politesse, and carefully chosen fashion statements for naught, because Don had to lay the smackdown on Maricon. Later that night, when they’re alone, she slaps him, maybe playfully, maybe not, a tear beginning to form. Don takes her in his arms….sympathizes, assures her he’ll be better next time…she straddles him.. “oh mr president….”
***
What am I doing wasting my time delivering Truth and Beauty to the benighted when I could just slap together pulpy romance ripped straight from a compilation of my Best Of Comfort Stage seductions and make out like a bandit?
