The first time I saw Michael, he was onstage. Powerful, perfect, he was the most beautiful man I ever laid eyes upon. Through the smoky haze in the nightclub, I watched him gyrate and prance to the loud beat of the band’s music.

Michael was tall with a nice, slim build. He was muscular, but with the type of muscle a dancer or swimmer gets-hard and lean. He had long dark brown hair that had a natural wave, and his skin glistened with sweat. I wanted to lick that sweat off his hard chest and then move my head farther south. Just watching him move around the stage made me horny. I wanted this man, and I was willing to do anything to get him. Of course, about five hundred other women were thinking the same thing!

The band he sang for was one of the best playing in the East Village in New York City. Every Friday... Read More