Demon in the Sack?

Back in the day, when I was a lowly White House intern, I had the biggest crush on one of my supervisors. I remember asking another in the office, is he married? She looked at me oddly, shook her head, and said "no."

I got the signal loud and clear. And I thought to myself, I bet he's a demon in the sack. Yeah, I thought that. Anyway, all this was about four years ago, and I don't think he'd remember me anyway (he wasn't a direct supervisor). Okay, maybe he'd remember me, but perhaps not recognize me.

I recognized him, though, making out with some guy in the back corner of JR's upper floor. My mission, which I choose to accept, is to be the next guy he's making out with in the in the back corner of JR's upper floor.