No One Saw Me Enter the Water
I hate that man. I hate him, I mumbled to myself. There I sat--a childhood icon, a teen sex symbol, a genuine movie star--and he had just asked me to get him a beer. The audacity. “Get your own beer, Bob,” I playfully snapped. I turned away from him. Slowly, seductively, I lifted a glass of sparkling champagne to my lips, pulling just a trace of the thick, sweet liquid into my mouth and swallowing it. “Please Natty … the cooler’s right there at your feet.” I glared at him. He infuriated me....
Group Sex