It was ten o’clock on Saturday night, and I admit, the lounge party rocked this year. The punch was indeed spiked, so I had a nice buzz going on. Henry had been right. The fresh meat in the building was hot, but Sheldon? He was smokin', man. Light blue jeans so tight I could see the outline of his package, and a tight black T-shirt with a red Rolling Stones Forty Licks logo on the front. All this showcased a flat stomach, toned arms, and legs that just begged me to wrap them around my waist.
Of course, he flirted up a storm with everyone, but he gave special attention to me. We danced together once, crotch to crotch, just like he'd wanted. God, he was fine! And that firm, round ass fit just right in my hands. He felt really good in my arms, too, and I never expected that. He really didn'
