Craig Tucker had a very odd, gross, wrong crush; His crush was Barrack Obama. He didn't know what it was about the very older man, his eyes? His bald head? Big ears? Personality? Maybe the way he dressed... Craig honestly didn't know but at the moment he was reading an article about a charity swimming event that had occurred for a children's hospital. Others would find these articles and stories he read rather quite boring, but Craig liked everything boring. Yup, nice and boring. He read through the piece of writing on his computer screen, scrolling down he landed upon a picture from the previous event. It was a shirtless picture of the president in a really tight hugging Speedo. Looking at the sight, Craig felt his skinny jeans become tighter on his crotch. Oh god, he has a boner. He bit his lip and started rubbing himself through his jeans, his breathing increasing. He took off his pants, knowing that nobody was home at the moment. He took out his rock hard erection and started stroking, thoughts of Obama clogging his mind. He pumped his hand, faster and harder, until he reached his point and came into his hand. He shook a little and sighed. '"Fuckin' Obama."