What Happens in Vegas

sexy, and not afraid to fulfill

your wildest, deepest fantasies.

~ WE are handsome, clean, physically

fit, and willing to make those

fantasies a reality!

As college-age best friends, we’ve done

this before and it’s always amazing.

In fact, we’re pretty damned good at it.

Take it from us (literally!)

NO STRINGS NO MONEY

NO GUILT NO PRESSURE

Just two unbelievably hot guys…

and you.

Double the pleasure.

Twice the enjoyment.

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS

STAYS IN VEGAS!

(but the memories go home with you forever…)

At the bottom of the page was a contact number, and a pair of very sexy names: Brody and Corey.

HOLY.

SHIT.

I scrambled for my phone, on the opposite nighttable. Swiping it open, my worst fears were realized.

You didn’t…

Oh, but I did. As sure as the memory came rushing back, I saw the three-word text-message I’d sent to that number, in all caps, somewhere around two-o’clock in the morning:

MIGHT BE INTERESTED.

I swallowed, but nothing went down. My mouth was too dry. There were a few short responses beneath my text — three of them, in fact. But of way more interest to me were the two photos above my message.

Photos of myself.

I scrolled up fearfully. There I was, taking photos of myself in the hotel suite’s full-length mirror. I was smiling back in my slinky green dress, one leg poking seductively through the slit in one side. Two quick shots, one from the front — with my tits pushed together — and one from the side.

Relief flooded through me. At least I hadn’t been naked. And if I were being honest, the shots looked good. Damned good. Almost like I knew what I was doing.

I sighed and checked the photos again. They were nothing I wouldn’t mind anyone seeing, really. I’d worked hard in the ten years since I’d dropped out of college, to stay in shape. I had curves, but they were all good curves. Regular workouts at the gym had helped me keep those curves in all the right places.