Ever Wondered What Leonardo DiCaprio Is Like In The Sack?

Bobbie Brown Will Tell Ya!

For years Leonardo Dicaprio had been dancing up to me at the clubs, saying how he wanted to make me his girlfriend.

I smiled and patted him on the head. How cute. I was seven years his senior and felt like his grandma. I'd never been someone's G.I.L.F. before.

“Do you think it's too Harold and Maude if I do it with Leo?" I asked Sharise Neil, ex-wife of Mötley Crüe's Vince Neil, and my sister in pleasure seeking.

Sharise raised an eyebrow and shrugged. At least baby-faced Leo had a grown-up career, I thought.

The Basketball Diaries, his breakthrough movie, had come out that year, and he was about to star in Baz Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet. If I hooked up with Leo, who was younger, cuter, and about to be more famous than Tommy Lee, it would hit Tommy right in the ballsack.

This time, when Leo came dancing up to me, I played along. “Call me, I dare you."

My inner G.I.L.F. was ready to party.

I opened my front door, and there he was, wide face, cornflower-blue eyes, big smile. Leo's hair was pulled back in barrettes and he was wearing a headband. He looked pretty, like a ballerina. I invited him in.

“Can I put on some music?" he asked, waving a CD in the air.


Don't go chasing waterfalls.

Please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to.

Leo sat on the floor, eyes closed, singing along. I recognized the song, by that R & B girl band TLC. It was all over the radio.

I stood there for a while, watching Leo sing along, wondering what to do next, and what conversation there was to make. There was none. Pokémon? New Kids on the Block? College?

“Let's go to the bedroom." I said. Leo nodded.

My bed was big and tall, and you had to climb up a small ladder to get to it. “You want to get up there with me, Leo?"


We started kissing. I pulled his T-shirt over his head, leaving the barrettes in his hair. I unbuttoned his jeans and tugged down on his boxers. What I saw made me gasp. It made no sense. The kid put Tommy Lee to shame.

“Wow, Leo, I wasn't expecting that." Next to his slim body, his assets were startlingly huge.

“Wait, let me turn the light on," I said. “I've got to see this properly."

Yup, even under closer inspection, Leonardo DiCaprio's crotch was on steroids. I couldn't take my eyes off it. Ha, wait till Tommy “I've got the biggest dick in Hollywood" hears about this, I thought.

“So, Bobbie, do you have any diseases?"


The question dropped like ice water on my head. I hadn't really thought about it. I'd come of age on the Sunset Strip, which was basically a glorified STD factory. No one in the rock scene wore condoms. No one.

Had I been tested? Of course not. Nothing seemed too diseased down there, but I hadn't thought to ask a doctor to check me out. On the Strip, when it came to bodily juices, sharing was caring.

“Also, Bobbie, what about gonorrhea? Have you been tested for that? And when you suck my dick, can you do it with a condom on?" Gah, he's so PC, I thought.

Truth be told, I could hardly blame Leo for feeling the safe-sex vibe with me. Tommy Lee was one of the biggest man-whore stripper chasers on the Strip. But I had never sucked anyone's wiener with a condom on it before. Oh well, first time for everything.

Leo rolled a rubber on, lay back, and closed his eyes. My cue to get started. I kissed his belly and drew him close to me. I began to lick and kiss his gargantuan penis. I tried to put it in my mouth. I could barely breathe. My jaw locked; my eyeballs bulged. So I went back to licking it.

Unfortunately, the latex tasted like the inside of a balloon, bitter, reminiscent of trips to the dentist. I rode my tongue up and down, trying to ignore the acrid taste, but after a few minutes, I had to stop. The flavor, along with his spectacular girthyness, was making me gag.

“Leo, I'm sorry but this condom tastes terrible. I don't think I can do it." Leo pulled me down next to him and kissed me sweetly. “You're right, that does taste kinda funny." I pulled him on top of me. His eyes stayed open, gazing into mine. His brow furrowed a little as he eased himself into me. I inhaled sharply—he was . . . titanic.

“Wow, Leo, that's nice, really nice." Waves of satisfaction rippled through my body. I pulled Leo deeper into me, as deep as he could go. Revenge was sweeter than I could have imagined. If only Tommy Lee could see me now.

“Wait. Wait a second. Don't move, Bobbie," whispered Leo.

“What's wrong?"

“We need to slow down."

“Um, okay."

We were about one minute into the lovemaking. I waited a few beats. I pulled him close again and he squeaked.


You can read the full story in Bobbie's book Dirty Rocker Boyson

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