It was literally a dark and stormy night when the Rocky Horror Picture Show taught me to give myself over to pleasure. Like Brad and Janet, I'd been caught in a storm -- a blizzard, not a downpour. But otherwise my night was strangely similar to theirs: I spent it in a mansion. At a party. With a hunky man. And by the time I watched the sun come up in the morning I'd been stripped of nearly everything I'd arrived in.
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