I met Rachel at one of those parties that Hollywood people love to throw. I can't remember who was the host. No, fuck, that, I can: it was Tarantino. He's a big fat motherfucker, you know. Right after he made Kill Bill, he blew up like a fuckin' balloon. Now he's too heavy to fit behind a camera. Well, that night Rachel was there and she was lookin' fine. We were on the roof of Tarantino's mansion. She had her hair pinned up in this fuckin' complicated doo-hickey that looked really hot on her; it made her look even hotter than usual -- which is already hot as fuck 'cause she got a perfect-ass body. You ever seen her ass? It's smokin'! I've never seen such an amazing ass on a woman before. I mean, it looks like two little apples just hangin' off her backside -- only they ain't apples; they're fuckin' two perfect, round, full-size bubble buttcheeks. Anyway, Tarantino was having all these hot people over -- yeah, it was a hot party -- and Rachel was there with some other movie star (I can't remember who). She had her arm around him and he was whispering in her ear; he must have been tellin' her how hot she is 'cause she kept looking at him and smiling.
We were drinking pretty hard that night so by about midnight I had to piss real bad. I looked on the horizon for a bathroom, but I couldn't find one near the party. I don't know what Tarantino was thinking when he built his big-ass house. So I had to piss real bad and then Rachel noticed me holding my dick and she said, "Honey, maybe you should go over to the guest bathroom on the north end of the building."
"Thanks," I said, and started walking that way. Once out of sight of all the partygoers, I broke into a run because it felt like my bladder was gonna explode any minute. Then I burst into a huge room that looked kinda like a museum with all this shit on display -- only everything in there was twisted: animals caught in mid-fight and people in pain. Oh, man! I had no time for that sort of freaky shit. Still no sign of the bathroom, or anything resembling one. By this point I was just about ready to piss myself, and that would completely ruin my chances of getting laid. Fuck it. Tarantino would hate me, but there was no way this room could get any worse. I whipped out my dick and slashed urine all over his expensive carpet.
"Wow," said a voice to my side. I stuffed my dick back into my pants, but it was too late. Rachel McAdams was stood in the doorway, a big shit-eating grin plastered all over that fucking gorgeous face of hers. "Couldn't find the bathroom, huh?
"Shit, you got me," I said.
"Well, nice dick," she said.
"What?"
"Nice dick, honey," she repeated. "You're pretty big." Then she walked toward me and I thought she was gonna slap me or something, but instead -- she started to rub my cock through my jeans. Shit, I was hard in a second. This has never happened to me before. If you know anything about Rachel McAdams then you know that she's a big-time actress and that it's not easy for somebody like her to even look at a guy like me -- least of all touch one! But here was Rachel pressing her hand against my erection and rubbing the head of my dick through my pants.
"Oh yeah," I said, with a smile on my face so big it would make any dentist jealous.