My Husband Asked Me to Get In Bed With an Adult Film Star to Save His Business
If you try to poach the wrong egg, you just may end up with yolk on your face — or worse.
A bronze, sculpted arm pressed her silicon-engorged jugs together, adding about four inches to the cleavage that edged its way into my lap, as she extended a manicured finger towards the large green grates securing the waterfront dungeon to my right.
“You don’t want that.”
The pink dog-mobile hugged Bayside Drive’s sharp, winding curve, edging treacherously close to the castle’s gate, though two more rows of stone walls and metal grids barricaded the reclusive residents safely on the water’s side. The accusatory boobs returned to their place in the driver’s seat, though their owner kept her eyes on me, rejecting my advances in favor of a stark warning.
Level with the ocean, this seaside strip is a 10 out of 10 flood risk, but with estates appraising north of $20M, these homeowners are just too rich to care. That doesn’t make them too rich to care about their privacy and security. That said, three layers of steel, stone, and grates on the windows is a bit excessive — even for Bayside Drive. My large-breasted guide (let’s call her Flavia), is one of the few people who shares the infamous…
