Emma Stone

You fling the door open with overflowing expectations and excitement. Your eyes do a full body scan as the woman's voice reaches your ears.

"Hey! You must be Dylan. It's a pleasure to meet you!"

Before you stands the redheaded bombshell that goes by the name Emma Stone. She's wearing a tight-fitting black cocktail dress and a pair of towering heels. Her scorching hair cascades over the sides of her head in the most gracious way and it makes you giddy on the inside.

"Yep. That would be me! Obviously you don't need an introduction, ha. By the way, if you could take your shoes and panties at the door, that would be sweet."

She hesitated for a short while before speaking up. "Um.. I've never heard of something like that, but ya know, I kinda like it. Am I the first one here?" she asked as she slipped off her grey cotton panties.

"Indeed you are. You can just make yourself at home in the living room. All the drinks are in the cooler there," you answer just as she steps out of the skyscrapers on her feet.

"Sweet! Should be a kick-ass party."

She jokingly hands you her now discarded underwear and you take a good look and sniff. "Kiss It!" was written across the back of them, and it makes you smile devilishly. Hopefully she's as comical and punchy as she was on screen, but it doesn't look like you'll need to be hoping, not that you even have to hope for anything now.

You stroll back into the room to find Emma enjoying a self-made rum and coke while browsing her phone. She cocks her head up as she addresses your entry into the area.

"So forgive me, but I'm actually not all 100% sure who you are entirely. Can I get a backstory?" she asked.

"Oh, of course. My name is Dylan Thomas. I'm a self-made multimillionaire with a giant fucking dick. There's actually not a lot else to me I guess. I just threw this party because I wanted to get a bunch of hot celebrities together for the hell of it."

"Niiiiccceeee...," she drew out her voice in a humorously chill way. I'm honored to be invited to a party for a man of your wealth, I must say. You said you're self-made? How'd you make the dough, if you don't mind me asking?"

You decide to conjure the most preposterous thing you can pull out of your hat. "I breed grasshoppers for sport," you retort barely containing your laughter.

"Wow! I would have never thought there's was such a market in that. How are they used for sport?"

"They actually fight. I breed the absolute best ones there are. It's really big in the Maldives or some shit. There's some pretty intense underground fighting rings over there. Some dude lost both his kidneys in a bet I heard.

"Christ! Sounds like your quite the badass there, Dylan! she replied as she flirtatiously nudged your arm.

Just then you look across the hall and yell down at Sonja. "Hey, babe. Could you make a big sign that reads 'LEAVE ALL FOOTWEAR AND PANTIES HERE,' and hang it at the door?"

She gave an approving thumbs up and made on her merry way. You glance down at Ms. Stone's pale bare feet. The nails were painted a striking red that popped like bubble gum and like clockwork, dirty thoughts about anatomy **** there way into your head.

"Can you sit down on the sofa and put your feet up? They look fine as hell, by the way.

She shrugged as she voiced her answer. "You got it, and thanks by the way! Always appreciate a compliment."

She practically falls into the leather sofa after setting her drink on the end table. "Have at her, big guy."

You lean in and immediately begin to kiss her toes and massaging her soles. Her feet were absolutely nubile. Your kissing, licking and through-pants masturbating was pleasing you greatly as she popped another question.

"I noticed your girlfriend was like totally butt-naked over there. Is there a story behind that?"

"Meh, not really," you answered still embracing her soles. "I guess she's just the best girlfriend ever and just wants to make me happy. I mean, is there something wrong with her being naked?"

"Oh, no, not at all. I just thought I'd make some conversation, but you seem to be enjoying yourself there, ya dirty bird."

"Speaking of showing skin, could you maybe standup again and unzip that dress all the way?"

She shoots you a cute little pout. "Oh my god, haha. I guess I can maybe do that," she sarcastically exaggerated like it was a strenuous task.

Just then she gets up and slips her zipper down and reveals the portrait that is her gorgeous back, not to mention a little peak of the crown of her ass.

"This good enough? Or should I start turning into the Hulk and rip right through the fabric?"

"That'll come later," you shot back, enjoying the playful teasing with one of your celebrity crushes profusely. Before you can take it another step further, the door rings once again.