My Best Friend’s Wedding: In which I embarrass myself horribly

Rehearsal dinner. Haven’t eaten a bite of food all day. We arrive at the house, and the food is not ready, but there are drinks. I have one rum and coke.

The food is finally served. It is all hor d’oeuvres and there are zero carbs. I am hammered off one drink. Someone tells me I need another. I say I shouldn’t, I’m already too drunk. They say I should just sip a glass of wine, then. In my totally inebriated state, I decide that MORE ALCOHOL is a good idea.

Trashed. Totally trashed.

Groped and repeatedly propositioned two grooms men. Took off my panties, stuck them in my bra, and flashed everyone a shot of my nether regions. Repeatedly.

Had to be carried to the car, and put to bed, where I immediately passed out.

Rock. Fucking. Bottom.

I woke up at 4 AM and considered jumping off the bride’s balcony, but I thought my suicide might dampen the festivities. I opted to live.

If there is one silver lining to this horrifying turn of events, it is that I made absolutely certain to NOT get smashed at the wedding.I ate the morning of, and sipped one cooler in the limo and all throughout pictures. I made sure a drank a LOT of water, and refused all the drinks people kept pushing at me until I had a chance to get some carbs in me. I had way more to drink at the reception than I did at the rehearsal dinner, but somehow I managed to keep my level of intoxication at a level where I was “pleasantly buzzed” and not passing out and/or attempting to rape grooms men.

I was still pretty horny (obviously–I am still me, humiliated or not), but it seemed like every good looking man at the wedding had a date. And I did not. Although I am married, I never do. Go figure. I still had a lot of fun, dancing till my body hurt and drinking enough to feel good. I was on the dance floor with the hottest couple in attendance shimmying on either side of me, and then they took off and I was joined by the bride’s cute, younger cousin.

You know where this is going.

We had chatted a bit outside earlier (I knew he was 22 and from up North), but hadn’t made too much contact since. We danced a few songs and then deciding we needed another drink, we made our way over to the bar. The bride pulled me aside. “You behaving yourself?” she asked with an arched eyebrow and a smile.

“I’m not going to touch your cousin,” I laughed.

She laughed too and took off with her groom.

I’m a liar. Of course I was going to touch her cousin.

He brought me a drink and we decided to take a walk. We meandered through the dark golf course, getting to know each other and marveling at the stars. At one point I said my feet were killing me, and I sat down. He sat facing me. He ran his hand up my leg. I coyly asked him if he was a virgin.



He kissed me. He was a good kisser. We sucked on each other’s lips and slid our tongues in and out of each other’s mouths for awhile, and then he pushed my dress up and slid his fingers inside me. I moaned and fumbled with his belt, until he took it off and slid his pants down. I stroked his cock while he fingered me, and then I laid back on the damp grass and he slid inside me.

We moved through positions like drunken acrobats. I moaned and gasped as he talked dirty to me, telling me I was sexy as hell, that I was a fucking slut, that he loved pounding me.

He had an impressive lack of inhibitions for one so young. We didn’t have a condom (what was I thinking, forgetting that!?) , so I sucked him off while he rubbed my pussy with his fingers. My screaming was stifled by the dick in my mouth.

“Choke on it, you whore.”

Oh God, please just keep talking to me like that.

“You are such a sexy bitch.”

Fuck, that is erotic. “Mmmmmm.”

“You want my cum?”

“Mmm-hmm,” I answered, deep throating him and rubbing my tongue up and down his shaft.

He shot his cum down my throat.

“That was hot,” I said.

You’re hot.”

We decided to walk back to the reception hall separately, so as not to be totally obvious. He put his arm around me and gave me a kiss, then we studiously ignored each other for the rest of the night.

And that is the story of how I flashed the bridal party and then fucked my best friend’s younger cousin.

I have a problem.

I am a sex addict.

10 Comments on “My Best Friend’s Wedding: In which I embarrass myself horribly”

  1. mala says:

    Sorry about the sex addict bit, but on the upshot, you are a very good writer and I loved that story 🙂

  2. Jen says:

    Oh well, these things happen!

  3. Gavin Jeter says:

    Normally I just lurk and read up on all your sexy adventures (totally living vicariously through your sexiness) and don’t really reply to posts but I feel compelled to at least reach out and say something at this point. I think in the midst of a hot sex story you touched on something very real for yourself and your life. Standing at the precipice of suicide and contemplating why you are continuing forward is a stark realization in people’s lives. I hope that you aren’t just writing it off for something that isn’t going to make an impact on how you function. I may be shooting in the dark or assuming (in which case I apologize) but even as a sex addict you set up some semblance of boundaries, you don’t just tail spin in front of friends and loved ones. Please seek advice for this spin that it appears you are going through. Don’t let externals dictate how you progress with your life.

    • I have no idea what to do. I thought about going to Sex Addicts Anonymous, but I’d probably just end up sleeping with everyone.

      • Gavin Jeter says:

        Honestly I’m not sure what to do either. I have been in that situation where things are falling apart and all I can focus on is the vices in my life (for me it was contacting and fucking prostitutes). I took no account for the damage I was dealing to not only myself but to those that I love and whose opinions should count. I don’t know maybe the thrill is the tailspin…

  4. I’m sure we all agree about the sex addict bit, but here is my thoughts on it…Your personal happiness and pleasure is truly your own and therefore as long as you are not hurting anyone, to include yourself, and you are doing what makes you happy, what brings you pleasure and the people around you aren’t overcome with feelings of the opposite…your fine. The part that worried me the most was the jumping off the balcony. THat had me worried, but yes, you are a great writer, but it seems to me like a great person too!!!

    • Aw, you are sweet. I think I kind of did hurt myself when I did that, and I’m sure I made people around me uncomfortable what with all the groping lol. But in general, although my sexuality is really strong and basically undeniable, I don’t think I’m hurting myself with my promiscuity (though time will tell). I think, honestly, the biggest issue that night was the alcohol. Learned my lesson, there.

      Slightly concerned about getting trashed and having a repeat at a play party I may be attending for Halloween. I will have to be disciplined and pace myself.

      • Just drink slowly and not in excess, plan your exit in a cab and you’ll be alright!!! Plus, send me the address and what costume you’ll be in and I’ll make sure I’m there to “help” you thru the rough patches….LOL!!!

  5. […] thought I hit rock bottom once. Then again, and then once more. But it has become clear to me that I have no idea what rock bottom is. I […]

  6. […] This place where I have confessed to complete and total deviance, from bedding married men, to groping and flashing people in a drunken haze, to continuing a relationship with someone who forced sex on […]

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