There is only one rule- no kissing. The Porn Star is heavily influenced by the many, many online porn sites that they peruse. They may even ask you to watch a video during your romp. Role playing, toys, and outfits are all highly encouraged with this partner. Be prepared- things may get messy.
What you need to know: Of course, you’re not spending the night with The Porn Star, so don’t bother packing a night bag.
“Jesus, even in your fantasies you shoot for the floor,” Nick said, holding up the ragged sleeve of Jess’ costume.
“Oh, the stars, that’s right, I’m supposed to aim for the stars,” Jess answered in the least mocking tone she could muster. After five years of marriage, Nick decided it was time to divulge his shameful secret- he loved Renaissance fairs. No, not loved, obsessed, he was obsessed with renaissance fairs. Nothing made him happier, he said, than dressing up in a historically accurate costume, eating a turkey leg in one hand and drinking beer from his chipped bull horn in the other. So that’s how Jess found herself here, dressed in a period-accurate costume as a wench. Something she never thought to put on her own bucket list.
Because that’s what it feels like, doesn’t it? A ginormous game of dodge ball.
The game was on. Jess mentally prepared herself. Physically prepared herself. Then it was time, the clock started when the virus hit her area. Just one case at first. Then two. But Jess was ready, so ready. She had a bottle of hand sanitizer, plenty of meds, a bottle of Wild Turkey, and cans upon cans of food that will probably follow her into retirement.
To say Jess was excited to play the game is an overstatement; but, prepared, resolved to beat this virus- yes.
And like every game of dodge ball that Jess ever played, she was out in round one.
The noise sounded like air slowly being released from a balloon– or at least that’s what Elle thought.
When she heard the sound, her whole body was bathing in the warmth of his radiant heat; her arms coiled around his barrel chest, fingers entwined in a thicket of chest hair, breasts flattening with every perfectly in sync inhale. She was in a complete state of ecstasy; high on his virile pheromones and the scent of his musky cologne.
HIS MARRIAGE ONLY LASTED THIRTEEN WEEKS. Ninety-one days of pure marital bliss that came to a crashing end when he found himself wailing like an infant on the icy tiles of his bathroom floor; crying out for his lost love, the way she once cried out for him.
Thirteen weeks in and his genteel, lovely wife suddenly had the decorum of a drunken homeless person. While on her knees, she yelled out through the open door for Derek to take off her earrings. It seemed an odd request, but he made for the bathroom anyway to tend to his petite wife who guzzled enough rum earlier to take down a linebacker during their outing with friends.