SALLY MILLER: When I met Bill Clinton and the first time we were together
Senator Gibson decided I should get away from Pine Bluff for a while; away from Jack and the pressures of the pending divorce. Believing I could make a little much-needed money while connecting with some influential people, he hired me as a Legislative Senate Aide for Arkansas’s 87th General Assembly.
My new job was temporary (3 months) and nothing fancy. I was merely one woman in a select pool of other females labeled: Senate Aides. In truth, we were nothing more than nursemaids— substitute mommies for Arkansas State Senators.
One of the first people I met at the state capitol was a young guy with an afro hairdo named Bill Clinton.
About seven years younger than me, Bill was single, fairly nice looking, and could best be described as a political wannabe. Like everyone at the General Assembly, Bill Clinton attended the after-work parties and other political festivities.
Bill had a little-boy charm and country-freshness I found attractive and, over time, I sensed the interest was mutual.
We flirted with each other, shared a few laughs, even danced together several times but there were no shared moments. Neither of us could have imagined that, ten years later, we would meet again and— share each other.
TEN YEARS LATER
Armed with my railroad proposal, facts, and photos, I headed to the office of my one-time friend, Bill Clinton, now Arkansas’s Governor. His secretary, Ms. Moore, was extremely nice. She explained Bill was playing golf but promised to have him call the minute he checked in with her.
Bill called several hours later. After ten years, he sounded happy to hear from me. It didn’t seem awkward or strange when he asked if he could stop-by my place, later. I gave him my address at Andover Square Condominiums, explaining my patio backed up to Reservoir Park. Bill replied: “Leave the gate open and the patio light on. I’ll have my driver drop me off at your back door.”
Closing the patio door behind him and flashing his trademark open-mouth smile, Bill stepped into my living room. He wasted no time pulling me close, laughing in my ear, hugging me affectionately.
It had been ten years since the two of us had walked the halls of the Arkansas State Capitol together. Since then, we’d both managed to expand our horizons in more than a few directions.
He listened to my pitch for the Rail Historic Preservation Society; he looked at my photos; he examined my proposal. Bill promised to help by introducing me to the woman in charge of Parks and Tourism. Then, placing my packet back on the table, he suggested we enjoy a little “catch up” time.
All totaled, Bill visited me twelve to fourteen times over a three month period. Each visit was memorable; there was never a dull moment. We were like kids, entertaining each other with stories, songs, true confessions, and creative intimacy.
Bill and I enjoyed each other’s company and yes, we had fun. My young friend made me feel special, like he’d rather spend time with me than anyone else.
Bill’s not the most handsome man I’ve known but he made me feel like my breasts were the right size, my legs were the perfect length, I had an incredible body and, on top of all that, I was beautiful. There aren’t many men who know how to make a woman feel that way.
Bill could sometimes be a clown in the bedroom and… I soon guessed why. As long as our relationship stayed playful, I might not take a “second look” at the size of his penis. Yes, it performed well but, it was a little-boy penis that just never quite–grew-up.
Bill was multi-faceted in bed which made up for his small package. He had an array of talents, like being a marvelous kisser, toucher, and possessing a mouth that operated with perfect precision. I have no doubt Bill perfected his oral-sex skills by practicing on women other than Hillary.
Too many men ignore the sensitive ar