Instead I simply said, ‘No,’ and did my best not to faint. Sitting next to me was Michael Phelps. It took everything I had not to fall down at his feet. Here was the man I had admired from afar since the day I first saw him swim in the Olympics. I watched every one of his medal ceremonies just so I could get another glimpse of his wonderful smile. I even bought his Wheaties box and yet, here he was! Sitting right next to me! What’s more, he was definitely admiring my curves. Admiring my curves? My Gods, I thought. Michael Phelps thinks I’m hot. The realization caused me to nearly fall out of my chair and Michael turned to me and asked if I was all right. ‘I’m okay.’ I said, barely managing to get the words out. I watched him, safe behind my sunglasses. He seemed unsure of himself. He kept fidgeting and fighting the desire to turn and look at me. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of silence, he turned to me and said, ‘Hi. I’m Michael.’ Simple words, but to me, some of the. " He groaned as he pulled my body close, taking my jacket off and tossing it on the floor. I helped him out by pulling my shirt over my head and throwing it aside. His hands reached around me. He unhooked my bra and slid the straps off my arms. It dropped to the floor. He slid his hands down my back and around my hips to the zipper of my jeans. His nimble fingers quickly unzipped and unbuttoned them. He slid the waistband down over my ass. He kneeled and slid them down from my thighs to the floor. I stepped out of them. Justin helped me remove my socks. he softly kissed a trail from the top of my foot to my panties. He bit the ribbon of my panties, which laced up on either side. He pulled with his teeth, undoing the dainty little bow and loosening my panties. He did the same to the other side, and my panties fell to the floor. He reached over to the bed and picked up the bikini bottom. I stepped my legs into the holes, and he pulled them up and over my ass. He then picked up the top,.
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