Taking a drag off his Virginia Slim, Bruce peered into the Malibu sunset, his tiger-striped caftan gently blowing in the Pacific Ocean breeze.
Impulsively, he unsnapped the halter strap and the garment fell to the floor, revealing his nude body. At 65, he still had the fit build of an Olympic athlete, and his newly formed breasts were full and luscious.
Slowly he began rubbing his nipples with his well-manicured fingers. Soon he was moaning in delight.
His ecstasy was suddenly shattered by a familiar voice: “Hello, foxy mama.”
Bruce jumped in shock. Behind him stood Kanye! His eyes were lustful and his hand was grabbing the crotch of his tight leather jeans…