Last week my friend Tom invited me to attend his friend’s wedding, which was supposed to be a very lavish affair. Tom didn’t have a girlfriend, so as a favor to him, my husband and I both agreed that I should be his date. Tom is the type of guy a girl just wants to be friends with. In some ways he can be cool, but actually he’s kind of a loser.
He said he was arranging for a limousine to take us to and from the wedding. At the last minute his dorky friend Dan called and wanted to tag along with us. This was totally okay with me, since I didn’t expect to get laid that night anyhow.
I picked out a black satin dress that I had worn the year before to a college dance. It was not too extravagant, but it was suitable for a fancy wedding. I found my favorite bra and admired the extra cleavage it produced. I slipped on matching panties and looked at myself in the mirror. Wow, I looked great! Just for the hell of it I rubbed my breasts and tweaked my nipples to make them hard.
When Tom picked me up, the limousine turned out to be just a Cadillac with a driver. The driver’s name was Sal, another friend of Tom’s.
Sal had brought some good stuff along. We smoked a joint on the way to the hotel, and probably drank at least half a case of beer. By the time we got there I was feeling good. I was also hot and horny, and I wondered if it was obvious.
Inside the hotel, I looked around and noticed that there were gorgeous men everywhere. I was glad I had picked the black dress; it made me look sexy. I knew then that by the end of the evening I would be sucking someone’s cock. I just didn’t know whose.
The wedding reception was very extravagant, with ice sculptures and little gifts for all the guests. The dinner seemed to go on forever, followed by hours of dancing. The bar was open, and all the liquor was top notch. I drank Vodka and tonic and smoked a couple of joints. Any time I wanted to smoke, all I had to do was go out to the car, and Sal would have a joint ready. I always remembered to take a drink with me to keep my spirits up.
On my way back to the party after one of these excursions I ran into Paul, who I had dated about five years ago. He quickly drew me into his arms and kissed me solidly on the lips. “How the hell are you, Tracy?”
“Paul, how have you been?” I said. I was barely able to form the words. My mind was spinning from the pot I’d just smoked, and from the suddenness of seeing Paul again.
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