A Reluctant Invitation

Transcript

In the not-so-distant past, my best friend called me up and told me, emphatically, you're going to be my plus one for this wedding that I'm invited to. Before I could even say, nah, nah, she said, I'm sorry, you don't have a choice and you owe me one. Remember when I got your back for that thing? Fuck, I thought to myself, that's true.

Besides, that's what friends are for. Hmm, I suppose you're right. But you know that I don't do wed- Before I could even finish, she cut me off.

I know you don't do weddings. I know how you feel about them. But you're going to come through for this one.

And it'll be fun. We get to hang out. Come on, we haven't hung out in forever and we'll drink and make fun of people.

Hey, she said, maybe you'll meet some pretty girl. I can be your wingman girl. I giggled as if I need that.

Of course you need that. You need that very much. She was right.

I did need that very much. Fast forward a month and a half later, I did my best to argue. She had agreed.

She would pay all my expenses. Separate hotel rooms. She would drive us both and we would attend the wedding.

I was dismayed. I was unhappy about the situation. But as an adult, I swallowed my pride and we went.

That evening, the cocktail hour, it was okay. I didn't know anybody here. She seemed to know everybody.

And yes, she looked super pretty, but she's my best friend. I don't really look at her like that. I just don't have it in me.

Everybody looks pretty at a wedding. I mean, everybody looks their best. She must have adjusted my tie 15 or 20 times, stepping on my feet.

Can you stop stepping on my fucking feet though? And I think you should slow down on the drinking, seriously. She would just push me away.

Alright, this is your jam, these are your people, so I guess you do you, girl. I found myself sitting at the bar a lot, talking to the staff. I would mingle.

I wasn't that guy who was antisocial. I talked and met a lot of people, said hello, introduced myself as the plus one. And as the evening sort of dragged on, I tried to be a good guest.

I tried my absolute best. Four hours of this? I wanted to get this suit off already.

I don't know, I'd lost count of how many drinks I'd had and where the fuck was she? No, she's dancing around again with some other guy, fuck. And then there's that other dude.

Hmm, yeah, I've seen the way he's looking at her. He, he looks like, he looks like some kind of fucking predator, though. I don't know, I mean, I should probably do something about that.

I don't know, maybe I shouldn't. We've been in this situation before, I've gotten yelled at for interrupting things. He's handsome, too, and he's got a nice body.

To be fair, if I was into dudes, I might be into him, too. But he's got that devious look in his eyes, and her eyes keep shifting right to left. Hmm, yeah, I know that look.

She doesn't trust him, either. We're on the same page. She's my best friend, I know exactly what the fuck she's thinking.

She wants to fucking get boned, but she also knows this guy might be trouble. Well, I'm here for a reason. I am definitely intoxicated, but I need to do something.

Let me think for a moment. Hmm. I hop off the barstool, and I slowly make my way towards her.

And when I get right up close to the both of them, Oh, hey ma. We both laugh. He looks puzzled.

It's an ongoing joke we have. She's done it to me, too. Sometimes we'll be in a store, perusing an aisle, someone will start talking to somebody, and she'll walk up to me, and say, hey dad, it's just a thing we do.

In this particular case, I guess this was a bit off-putting to this particular gentleman. He laughed, but I think, I think he got the message. She didn't seem upset by this at all.

They ended their conversation. He looked at his watch. And her and I had a few more drinks, and as the party began to end, we had a few more.

And as it got late, we both decided, pfft, we've had enough of this place. We needed to get the fuck out of here. I had no idea how the fuck we were going to get home, but thank you, Uber.

All I really wanted to do was make sweet love to a soft mattress and a pillow for like twelve to fourteen hours. That's it. When that Uber arrived and I got that notification on my phone, I grabbed her little wrist, told her to put that glass down, and I dragged her outside.

She almost relented, talking about, come on, Jer, these fucking heels, you should see what it's like walking in heels. Maybe I'll put them on you later and see how you like it, oh Jesus, can you just shut up and come on already, damn. As if I never walked with a drunk woman wearing heels before, sheesh.

The ride back to the hotel was pretty quiet. I watched as she played with her stockings and adjusted her dress, fucked around with her hair. I kept asking her, is she okay, you're not going to puke, right? She'd give me dirty looks, no, I'm not going to puke, what am I, a fucking child? I don't think you're a child, damn.

Also I can see your bra, why don't you fix yourself a little. She slapped me in the face, we both giggled, it was kind of funny. When we got to the hotel, it was a tough walk inside.

We made it to the elevator, we both stumbled to find our room keys, and I, like a gentleman, walked her to her room. I was intent on making sure that she got inside, and so I did. Now I know what all of you are probably thinking, but I want you to clear all that out of your mind, because my intentions were completely, completely pure.

So this is my best friend. I let her into her room, the door closed behind us. All I'm thinking is I hope that my fucking keycard works and I can find it to get into my own room, drink a bottle of water, and go the fuck to sleep.

We barely made it to the bed. She sat down, I kneeled down in front of her, unstrapped those heels from her ankles, tossed them aside, and literally pushed her back onto the bed. Come lay down with me just for a second, would you? Oh my god, how badly do I want to hit a pillow right now, I thought to myself.

Don't do it, Jeremy. Don't fucking do it. Moments later, I'm laying on that bed.

Two minutes later, our lips are touching. Two minutes after that, our tongues are in each other's mouths. We're giggling.

We're both silly drunk. My fingers are in her pretty, pretty, delicately pinned back hair. I stop myself, falling back on the pillow.

She's pulling off my jacket, tossing it over the floor. I'm just going to pass out, I think. She rolls over, straddling me, fully clothed, dress still on.

She starts to make her way up from my legs over my belly. Maybe she's just going to rub my shoulders. I could fucking use that right now.

Maybe I'll fall asleep, just like that. But I feel myself. I feel my heels digging into the bed like I've done so many times before.

And I feel a twinge in my pants. I feel myself moving towards the edge of the bed. And I feel her, slowly sliding up against the buttons of my shirt, towards my neck and my chin.

I feel something warm, almost moist, wet, but rough, pushing against my chin. She's swaying forward and back. Her fingertips are touching the wall behind me.

My eyes move from her palms down to her wrists, her elbows, her biceps, her neck, back up to her chin and her face. We connect. She pauses for a brief, brief moment.

Am I still that pretty girl that rejected you so many years ago? She asks me. And it's as if, for just that moment, there's a clarity.

I'm no longer drunk. I'm thinking completely clearly, but I don't want to say even one word. And so I say nothing, nothing at all.

I just remain silent. I swallow and lay there as she wiggles up higher. I can feel her panties stretching across my chin.

They're patterned and flowery, rough, a little wet as they reach my lips. I feel her raise her hips and then lower down, sinking against my mouth. Almost instantaneously, she moves her hands, expertly shifting her weight, pulling that dress over her head as if she's rehearsed it a million times before.

I'm impressed and turned on and confused. My arms trembling a little bit under her thighs as she pushes her pussy against my lips. It's wonderful and warm, although a thin material between.

A little rough, I open my mouth, my tongue moving back and forth as I swallow her, taking her inside, pressing against her, feeling her swaying back and forth, feeling my cock swelling inside my suit pants, listening to her little muses and moans, feeling her thighs tighten and loosen as she continues thrusting back and forth, pushing herself against me. I feel a hand move swiftly across my face as she takes those panties, pulling them aside, lifting her hips for another moment before resting them again on my face. I feel wet, soft folds.

I feel her little hole. I feel my tongue sinking inside, moving in and out and around my lips, touching, feeling, binding and sucking on her clit. And it seems like she can't stop either.

And she won't, relentlessly moving back and forth over and over. I would love to take my hands and put them inside my pants right now, but I can't, for they are pinned underneath her thighs, and it is wonderful torture, but torture it is. And I can feel her, so wet and sloppy, and the sounds along with her whimpers, I can feel her tightening around my tongue, and I can feel her build up as she starts to climax and come, and oh my God, it's so wonderful.

I assume she'll stop, but she doesn't. Continuing over and over, I hear her say again, and she continues moving back and forth, those panties still on, slid to the side, abrasive against my cheek, but her soft, wet, moist pussy against my nose and my lips, faster now, and faster, moving against my tongue as it sinks in deeper, and she sways more, back and forth, and back and forth, and then suddenly, out of nowhere, oh my God, wetness all over my face, almost as if somebody dumped a cup of water on me. I tremble, I turn my head to the side, she moves back slightly, giggling, I feel her hands move up her thighs, over her chest, her face covering her mouth, oh my God, she says, she follows it up with a, I'm so sorry, I place my hands flat against the bed, sliding up, placing my own back against the headboard as she sits in my lap, she has a slightly embarrassed look on her face, but I'm nothing but smiles, like a giggly schoolboy, I don't even know what to say, she's dripping off of my face, my shirt, completely wet, my half untied tie, soaking, a salty taste on my lips, did you?