I wonder which one I can use for the night. I lean against the pool table, looking around at all these young bucks strutting around the house in their polos and cargo shorts. Just thinking about him has me pooling between the legs. Never going too far, no touching or talking about sex or anything like that. He’d tell me how beautiful I was, complement my ass in a pair of jeans, or notice how nicely I’ve developed. We’ve been flirting since I turned eighteen. And OMG those tropical blue eyes and five-o’clock shadow on a strong jaw. He looks good for his age, a silver fox covered in tattoos, and is in better shape than most guys who go to my school. It all started with my dad’s best friend, Paul. Thing is, I’ve always had doe eyes for older men. Of course I choose his dad, because he was hot and my ex was kind of a douche.

Her question for me is, “Who would you rather fuck, your ex or his dad?” A game can’t get me in too much trouble, right? Yeah … right. She suggests a group of us get together to play Would you rather in one of the quieter rooms. She has always been the responsible one-about as responsible as a toddler dog-sitting, but still, she’s a better grown-up than me.

During all of this, I lost my shoes, and who knows what happened to my bra.Īt least Emily is here to keep me in check. And I probably danced topless on the sofa since that’s what all the pictures on Instagram are showing-only I don’t pay too much attention to those since that shit can be photo-shopped. I may or may not have butt-chugged Gray Goose with future lawyers and house wives. But, as we all know, good times and good decision-making aren’t one and the same. I’m a crack shot at beer pong and hit the best of all the flat notes during karaoke. Several of my friends are here, the music’s perfect, and there’s a hot tub, so bonus. Who needs enemies when you have friends like her? She bought the booze and it was her idea to come to this frat party in the first place and practice at being twenty-one before my birthday tomorrow.

It should come with an additional warning label: May cause extreme stupidity and drunk sexting. Know what happens when you bring a bottle of cinnamon whiskey to a party? Nothing good, that’s what. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author. Happily Ever After with My Dad’s Best FriendĪll rights reserved.

Her Dad's Friend by Penny Wylder