CHIRPSES

Former US President Warren Harding’s Sext Game Was Positively On Fire

Who knew that former US President Warren Harding pretty much invented the sexting game?

Love letters written by Warren Harding, the 29th president of the United States, to his mistress during the course of their affair from 1905-1920 have been released by the Library of Congress after being kept sealed for nearly a century.

It’s pretty much sexting in its most old school form, and we could definitely take a few tips from Harding and his 10/10 pimping lines.

The letters were addressed to Carrie Fulton Phillips, the wife of his good friend. Pretty naughty but he did have to set a precedent for other US Presidents to follow after all.

Check them out:

P.S. ‘Jerry’ is the nickname he gave his penis and ‘Mrs Pouterson’ is the name he gave Carrie’s vagina.

I love your poise / Of perfect thighs/ When they hold me / In Paradise /I love the rose / Your garden grows / Love seashell pink / That over it grows.

I hurt with the insatiate longing, until I feel that there will never be any relief until I take a long, deep, wild draught on your lips and then bury my face on your pillowing breasts. Wouldn’t you like to make the suspected occupant of the next room jealous of the joys he could not know, as we did in morning communion at Richmond?

Jerry – you recall Jerry, whose cards I once sent you to Europe – came in while I was pondering your notes in glad reflection, and we talked about it. He was strongly interested, and elated and clung to discussion. He told me to say that you are the best and darlingest in the world, and if he could have but one wish, it would be to be held in your darling embrace and be thrilled by your pink lips that convey the surpassing rapture of human touch and the unspeakable joy of love’s surpassing embrace. I cordially agree with all he said.

Wish I could take you to Mount Jerry. Wonderful spot. Not in the geographies but a heavenly place, and I have seen some passing views there and reveled in them. Gee!

Wouldn’t you like to get sopping wet out on Superior – not the lake – for the joy of fevered fondling and melting kisses?

Still, when I saw Mrs. Pouterson, a month ago, she persuaded me you still loved. I had a really happy day with her.

Absolute lady killer.


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