Horny Holly

You wait in a hotel suite in Vegas. You have a number of items arranged on the bar separating the kitchen from the sitting area.

You're wearing silk pajamas and robe ala Hugh Hefner.

There's a knock on the door, and you walk over and look through the peep-hole. You see Holly standing there, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot. She looks confused, anxious, and flushed.

You open the door and let her in. She's wearing tight leather pants, a tight black tank top and a leather jacket. She smiled nervously at you.

"So you're here because you want to star in a sit-com?" you ask, knowing that was the pretense to get her here.

"Um, yeah," she said, "I'm like so ready to do some comedy." She looks around nervously.

"Are you OK?" you ask.

"Um, yeah, I'm just...like...you know ready to do something besides stripping and cheesy horror movies."

You know, however, she's horny and getting hornier, and it's just a matter of time before she's begging you to fuck her.

"Would you like a drink? A glass of wine perhaps?"

"Oh yeah, that would be great!" she says eagerly as she takes her jacket off and lays it on the couch. She sits down and fans herself with her hand. She's getting more flushed.