Emma Watson

"Excuse me for a minute," you say, eagerly anticipating who your next guest could be.

You spin around before seeing the other Emma of your teenage fantasies standing before you.

"Hi!" she tweets with an adorable and shy little hand wave. "You must be Mr. Thomas. Of course, you know who I am, not to sound arrogant or anything haha. Well, I'm here; bare feet and bare vagina just like you asked."

She had a completely different status quo on the dress code than Ms. Stone. She was wearing a plain white tank top which was almost transparent and a tight-fitting pair of designer jeans. You could see a black bra settled beneath the sheet of cloth she was wearing for a shirt.

"Yes! I'm the fabled Mr. Thomas that you seek. I'm glad you could make it! And by the way, you look great, but could we lose the top? I can see right through it so what the fuck's the point, right?"

"I guess I just wasn't thinking when I got dressed this morning haha," she said peeling the tank over her slender body. I appreciate the compliment too! Could I maybe grab a drink, though? My lips feel like sandpaper."

"Oh, you got it! Just head that way to the kitchen and my bare naked girlfriend will get you something."

"Uh, thanks so much," she said making her way to the hall, still with her shirt clutched in a fist.

"Could I keep your shirt, though? I'm probably gonna cum on it a couple times then give it back to you someday."

"Catch!" she yelled tossing it through the air. "I'll wear as much spunk as you want, pretty boy. I'd be my pleasure," she exclaimed with a cute little wink.

The night had just started and was escalating to be come one of the best ever in your previously pathetic life. You conversed with and practically molested Emma Stone as you heard several more doorbells. There's a collection of smoking hot millionaires in your kitchen and you are going to take full advantage of that right away. However, you got an idea that you wanted to act upon first.

"Emma? Could you get your slutty ass back in here?" you hollered over.

Just then she came scampering out of the kitchen with a smile. "What is it?"

"You've met Emma Stone right? I'm assuming you're all in a pretty tight knit circle in Hollywood."

"Yeah we've definitely on more than one occasion!" they both paraphrased.

The two starlets bantered for a short while and it was kinda entertaining, but this was not to reason you requested their presence.

"So, girls, I got an idea for a movie I want the two of you to be in." They both sat quietly with more-than attentive ears. "I feel like both of you have established yourselves as some pretty hot-topic sex symbols. I mean, I've masturbated to both of you lots of times. So I was thinking it was time to take that to the next level. To be blunt I want to shoot a porn with you girls. I was thinking it could be about a guy who can't beside two girls, who are of course, you. We could call it 'Dil-Emma.' And just to get it out of the way, yes, you two will be having lots of steamy lesbian sex on camera. You game?"

The two of them sat silent for a bit before the British Emma spoke up.

"Are you freaking kidding? When do we start!?"

You grin wide and tell them that you'll let them know and that you'll just be needing their phone numbers, which they unquestioningly handed out. You make them French kiss before checking out some of the other girls at your party. You already saw Taylor Swift, Katy Perry and Iggy Azalea out the corner of your eye, so it seems the more musical crowd has arrived. Only question is, who first?