Colin & I Get Friendly, Sort Of Ch. 01
The usual disclaimer applied to all celebrity fantasies applies here as well. I know nothing of Colin Farrell's sexual orientation, besides he is at the very least a raging heterosexual. I don't mean to imply otherwise, he's just flat out hot to anyone, straight, gay or otherwise. This is fiction, plain and simple.
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It all started with my trust fund cashing early. The product of massive wealth, I quickly joined the young, hot jet set. I had the money and the time to party like and with the rock stars and their children. This story takes us to LA, and a private party being thrown by Paris Hilton for her birthday at her Hollywood Hills home.
I was sitting by the bar by the pool, getting my social lubrication in place before making the rounds. On my third Cosmo, I looked up to see Colin Farrell standing at the bar a few feet away. I smiled a little; knowing that he was one of the men I'd like to add to my list of done items. (I'm bi-sexual by the way, which makes things much more interesting) He was standing in a pair of tight black leather pants, a green vintage tee shirt and black Doc Marten boots. Paris wondered over to him as his scotch was served up, and a few seconds later brought him over to me.
"Colin, this is Alex, Alex, I'm sure you know this is Colin." She said
"Of course, good to meet you." I said, taking a big sip of my martini.
"Yeah, good to finally meet you too. From what I hear you've slept with almost as many people in this town as I have." He replied, taking out a cigarette and lighting it.
"Well, I must mingle, ciao!" bubbled Paris.
"I get the feeling I might have you beat on that one." I said after she left, lighting my own smoke,
"Really, maybe you could teach me a trick or two."