tagAnal8 Days

8 Days

bydamonX©

I sat with my feet up, flipping through random television channels as I repeatedly glanced at the clock on the wall. Although I fully trusted my fiancé, I knew how crazy bachelorette parties could get. Even so, it wasn't Lacey's behaviour that I was concerned about. I was far more worried about how my friend Jenna was fitting in with my girlfriend and her comparatively snooty friends. As a favour to me, Lacey had involved her in her pre-wedding festivities and made her a bridesmaid, albeit after a fair bit of convincing on my part.

Although Jenna and I had been friends long before I met Lacey, my girlfriend had always treated her with an unfair amount contempt. I sensed that jealousy was a motivating factor, although Lacey would never admit it. Jenna had made no secret of how she felt about my fiancé either, constantly referring to her affectionately as 'Barbie.' I had hoped that by convincing them to spend some time together, that some of the animosity might melt away before the wedding.

The knock that came at the door soon dashed those hopes.

Before I could say 'come in' the front door swung open and Jenna stormed in, her face flushed red with obvious discontent. I stared wide eyed as she strode across the floor and whipped her purse into the sofa with an aggression I had never before witnessed.

"Fucking cunt!" she cursed through gritted teeth as she paced across the floor in front of me.

I sucked in a long breath and winced in disappointment.

"Did you have fun?" I asked, cautiously, although I obviously knew the answer.

"No I did not have fun!" she fumed. "That was the worst night of my life."

"Whoa, there," I said, trying to calm my friend down as she continued to pace. "Why don't you have a seat and tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened," she explained, throwing her arms out with exasperation. "She was just her usually bitchy self. That's all."

"Come on. It couldn't have been that bad."

Jenna sat down on the couch and leaned back, slapping her hands into the cushions. I started to feel bad for even pressuring her into attending the bachelorette party. I should have known. The two girls were simply too different to get along. Jenna was a former tom-boy with a unique style and a staunch distaste for all things that she considered trendy. She had had a difficult childhood that forced her to develop a very independent personality and a severe distrust of authority. She worked as a photographer and had a very insightful way of looking at the world. I had never met a girl quite like her before, and I assumed I never would again. Sometimes we would just lie out on the roof of her old Mercury Cougar and stare at the stars, sharing a bottle of Jack Daniels as we talked about ridiculous topics like 'who would win in a fight between Bert and Ernie'.

From day one, Jenna had disliked Lacey, resenting my fiancé's privileged upbringing. In fact, she represented everything Jenna hated, referring to her as a 'blonde bimbo' or a 'pampered princess'. Lacey, likewise resented the time that the two of us spent together. Although most people would not even compare Jenna to Lacey in terms of looks, my friend did possess a certain sexy quality that could be considered quite attractive. Her body was thin, although she could eat anything she wanted without gaining pound. Her breasts were relatively small in size, a fact that Lacey continually liked to bring up behind her back, although Jenna didn't seem to care at all. She had a cute little pointy nose and thin lips that were often curled up on one side into an adorable smirk. Her hair was straight and brown, somewhat unremarkable unless she decided at the spur of the moment to dye it purple or green as she sometimes was prone to do. Her almond shaped eyes her deep and brown, often outlined with dark liner or blue eyeshadow depending on her mood. Her style of dress was as varied as her personality. One day she would appear in a pair of low riding army fatigues and tank top, the next in a black leather skirt and fishnet stockings. She had a sharp wit and a mouth like a sailor, especially when she was drinking.

"Fucking cunt!"

I sat back and waited for Jenna's temper to subside before attempting to converse once again. Gradually, she calmed down enough for me to try again. Before I could speak however, she turned to me with a look of stern resolve.

"Are you seriously going to marry that bitch?"

I might have been offended by her comments, but after months of being caught between the two women, I had grown a remarkably thick skin.

"Yes," I responded calmly. "I am going to marry...her."

"Damon," she pleaded, reaching out to grab my hand. "She is not the one for you."

I tried to smile in order to lighten the mood, but Jenna's penetrating eyes locked on mine with an intense stare that seemed to freeze my face in a blank, confused expression.

"Look, Jenna," I began, shifted to face her. "I know you don't like her but..."

"It's not just that," she snapped, cutting me off abruptly. "You should see how she acts when you're not around. You should have seen her tonight!"

"It was her bachelorette party," I explained, in an attempt to rationalize my fiancé's supposed behaviour. "I'm sure she..."

"Damon!"

The intensity of her voice stopped me cold.

"She just...doesn't," she continued, her tone softening. "...appreciate you."

I looked down at my hand, which Jenna was now lightly stroking, and raised an eyebrow with slight confusion.

"Whoa," I blurted out, pulling my arm back with surprise. "Are you telling me...what I think you're telling me?"

Jenna's lip curled up into the smile that I always found so adorable.

"I...I don't know..." she stammered, her voice now quiet and passive. "I've just been thinking about thing a lot lately...and..."

I just stared as I awaited her explanation.

"Well...have you ever thought about...ya know...us?"

I laughed and shook my head with amazement.

"Does it matter?" I asked. "I mean come on Jenna. I'm getting married in eight days."

Before she could say another word, we both became aware of the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.

"Well," she said promptly as she snatched up her purse. "That's my cue."

As much as I would have liked to continue our conversation, I knew that it probably wouldn't be a good idea for her to stick around when Lacey walked through the door. I sat back as Jenna stood up and headed for the door. Without another word, she slipped out just as my girlfriend walked in. I cringed as they passed each other without so much as a word.

"What was that little skank doing here?" Lacey, asked in a demanding tone as she slammed the door behind her.

"Oh, hi Hon," I greeted cheerfully, hopping up from my seat as she walked in and set her purse on the kitchen counter. "How was the...?"

"What..." she snapped again, holding her hand up in an authoritarian manner. "...was she doing here?"

"She just dropped by to say hi," I explained, leaning in to give Lacey a friendly kiss.

"Yeah, I bet," she muttered dismissively, kicking off her tall black heels. "Did she tell you how she freaked out and tried to ruin my bachelorette party?"

I shook my head as I walked back in and sat down in the living room, running my hand across my face in dread of the upcoming conversation I knew was going to take place.

"Oh my god!" she began, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and following me out of the kitchen. "She is such a little bitch. Okay, so we were at the strippers and she was being all bitchy and sullen...you know...like she usually is. And then Stacy made one little comment about her clothes and Jenna just freaked out! She made a huge scene and stormed out. It was sooo embarrassing."

I pursed my lips together and listened, remaining silent. I wasn't going to argue, but I knew that there was more to the story than Lacey was telling. I knew how her friends could be, and I knew what it took to get Jenna angry. I was definitely in no mood for an argument though, so I kept my mouth shut.

"That's it," she continued, waving her hand in the air. "She is not coming to our wedding!"

I took a deep breath.

"Lace," I began, dreading the turn of the conversation. "We've discussed this already. She's..."

"You know she's in love with you, right?"

Her statement caught me off guard and I stammered as I tried to figure out what to say.

"What...are...I mean..."

"Oh stop it!" she said, taking a drink of water. "You have to have noticed by now."

I dismissed the notion with a wave of my hand before changing the subject. We talked for a while longer...or should I say, Lacey talked for a while, and I listened.

As she continued ranting, I sat back and watched, barely hearing the words coming out of her mouth. I then realized just how opposite the two main women in my life were. Lacey was, in a word, beautiful. She was the typical ideal most commonly prized by the superficial male. She always reminded me of the antagonist in one of those high school romantic comedies. With blonde hair and big blue eyes, it was easy to see how Jenna could refer to her as 'Barbie." In contrary to Jenna's carefree attitude, my fiancé was the definition of high maintenance. Her hair and makeup were always impeccable, even when she went to the gym. Coming from a reasonably rich family, she had never really had to work, preferring a daily regime of tanning, waxing, trips to the salon and whatever else she felt like she needed in order to maintain her flawless appearance. She had soft, round features with full, thick lips. In fact, those were my absolute favourite physical feature of hers. Soft and pouty, she had often been accused of injecting collagen into them, although as far as I knew, they were completely natural. Her breasts were full, ample and always on display. I got the impression that she had always relied on them to get her way with people. I think that was part of the reason she was always so quick to belittle Jenna's comparatively diminutive chest. Her penchant for cleavage-revealing outfits and provocative dresses had often attracted unwanted attention from male suitors, landing me in more than one uncomfortable situation.

Her weight tended to fluctuate greatly, and always caused her a significant amount of distress. Border lining obsession, Lacey weighed herself several times daily and constantly fretted over every pound she gained or lost. With our wedding fast approaching, she had doubled her efforts, enlisting the help of a personal trainer for daily sessions at our local gym. I for one loved her soft, curvy physique regardless of her weight. I even joked about how she looked like she had the face of Andi Anderson and the body of Alexis Texas, two of my favourite porn stars.

Unlike, Jenna's carefree, artistic demeanour, Lacey was driven and ambitious. She was used to getting her own way and usually knew how to get it. She could be the sweetest girl in the world, or she could be one's worst enemy. I always thought she would make a great business woman or lawyer if she could actually stay focused on one thing for more than a day. She had currently been working as a pharmaceutical rep, although she had recently taken time off to plan our wedding and honeymoon.

As Lacey grew tired of ranting, she headed to the bathroom to have a shower while I went to bed. I was hoping to avoid any further conversation about Jenna by getting to sleep, but I found myself unable before she joined me in bed.

"So how were the strippers?" I asked, as she climbed into bed beside me.

"I...liked them," she said with a smile as she snuggled up next to me.

"Yeah? Did you get a private dance?"

"Maybe..." she answered cryptically with a mischievious look on her face that actually concerned me.

I was about to question her further, when she spoke again.

"Actually," she began in a tone that tuned my concern to worry. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"O...kay," I uttered suspiciously as Lacey avoided eye contact by watching her own finger lightly stroke along my chest.

"Well, have you ever thought about...," she began before pausing slightly as if picking the right words to use. "...the fact that I'm going to be the only one that you'll ever have sex with for the rest of your life?"

I was taken aback be by my fiancé's query. I took a moment as I sat there stunned, before she looked up into my eyes.

"Uhhh," I stammered, as she batted her eyes and waited for my response. "Maybe...I guess."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"Okay, look," I said bluntly in an attempt at easing her worries. "I'm not going to cheat on you. You don't have to worry."

"Yeah, I know," she continued, something still obviously on her mind. "But...do you ever feel like there's still something...you'd like to try?"

"Like to try?"

"Uh huh. Like...sexually."

"Like a cheerleader or an Asian girl?" I joked, lightening the mood with a slight smile.

I expected Lacey to laugh, but she just shrugged.

"Sure," she said. "If that's what you would like to still try."

"Okay, wait a sec here," I blurted out, sitting up straight in bed. "Are you offering me...what I think you are?"

"Well...," she said, sitting up as well. "I think it might actually be a good idea for us to use our last single days to...,"

"Whoa!" I said, cutting her off with a raised hand. "You want to fuck some other guy? A week before our wedding?"

"Just listen and let me explain," she returned, squirming into a kneeling position. "We have eight days left of being single. I for one, haven't really been with that many guys. I just kind of want...to see what else is out there?"

"What else is out there?" I exclaimed with exasperation. "You're twenty eight years old! You've had plenty of chances to see what else is out there."

"Yeah, but..." she pleaded, growing more desperate by the second. "I really haven't been with that many guys. I mean...you've been with a lot more people than I have."

"So, is that what this is about?" I asked. "You want to catch up with me?"

"Nooooo," she whined, her brow furrowing with growing disappointment. "I've always been the kind of girl to be in a relationship. I've never had the chance to just...have fun."

"So you want to use the next week to a slut?"

"Look," she said, trying to stay calm. "I might not even do anything. I just want one week to be single before I marry you for the rest of my life. Is that really too much to ask? Most guys would jump at the chance to screw as many girls as they want!"

I paused for a moment as I tried to process the information. It was true, I had been focusing on Lacey and not the fun that I could be having for the next eight days.

"No..." I said after a long pause. "Nice try. It's going to be a hell of lot harder for me to get laid than you."

"Well," she said softly, her voice taking on a sensual, seductive tone as she ran her fingers up my chest. "What if I...sweetened the pot?"

I looked down into her soft blue eyes as she smiled back at me.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, growing intrigued by her sensual mannerisms.

"Well...," she continued, biting her lip as she paused for an agonizing moment. "What if on our honeymoon...I let you do...anything you want to me?"

As she spoke, her soft lips touched my shoulder, gradually working their way up to my neck.

"Anything?" I asked, taking a deep breath as I felt her warm breath in my ear. "Even...?"

"Uh huh," she purred, biting down gently on my earlobe. "You can fuck...my...tight...little...virgin...ass."

I could feel the blood surging into my dick as the words left her lips. I have often brought up the subject of anal sex, but Lacey had always vehemently refused. She had always been a little conservative in the bedroom, so the thought of doing whatever I wanted to her was a tempting one indeed.

"Just think..." she continued, running her foot up my leg as she pressed her crotch into my body and reached back to graze her fingers in tantalizing fashion over her luscious, curvy ass. "Me in my little white wedding lingerie...looking so pure and innocent...on my hands and knees just waiting...waiting for you to take me...and violate me...to use my tight...little...asshole."

"Okay!" I blurted out, before I could think about what I was agreeing to. "Let's do it."

No sooner had the words left my mouth, than Lacey's seductive visage melted away before a broad, beaming smile. She threw her arms around me and pressed her lips into mine with an enthusiasm I had rarely witnessed since we had first started dating.

"This is going to be great!" she exclaimed in between ravenous kisses. "You won't regret it!"

"I think I already do," I said with a groan, as Lacey tried to lighten my spirits with more amorous behaviour.

"It'll be good," she promised. "You'll see."

I nodded and tried not to think about what my fiancé would be doing over the next week. After all, how bad could it be?

"Oh," she said suddenly as if just remembering something. "There's just one rule."

"What's that?" I asked casually.

"You can't fuck Jenna."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When I awoke the next morning, Lacey was already up. I could hear her singing to herself as she skipped through the house.

At first I wondered why she was so happy, but then it dawned on me and I remembered what I had agreed to the following night. I groaned and pulled the covers back over my head. Twenty minutes later, I hauled myself out of bed just Lacey was heading out the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked, scratching my head as she flitted by, twirling her car keys on her finger.

"I'm meeting with Stacy for brunch and then we're going to pick up my dress."

Lacey had insisted on planning the entire wedding. She tended to be a bit of a control freak about things like that and I was happy to hand over the reins. It had actually been stressing her out quite a bit though, so I was happy to see her a little bit more relaxed.

"I'll be back this afternoon," she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek before skipping out the door.

"Whatever," I muttered to myself bitterly as the door slammed shut. "Try not to suck any dicks on the way to the restaurant."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"What are you fucking crazy!!"

"Keep your voice down," I said in a hushed tone as stirred my coffee, staring down into the creamy brown, liquid as it swirled around in the small white cup.

Cale just stared at me dumbfounded from across the table as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Please tell me you're kidding," he pushed, slapping his hand down as the dishes rattled from the force.

"Nope."

"What are you fucking crazy?" he reiterated, louder than before.

I cast my friend a chiding gaze as other customers in the diner were beginning to take notice.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, holding his hands up in apology. "I just can't believe you agreed to that."

"It won't be so bad," I muttered, raising the cup to my lips and taking a sip. "I get to sleep around too."

Cale lowered his head and stared at me as his mouth dropped open.

"Dude," he said simply as if that one word was enough to prove his point. "You're not a bad looking guy, but come on...Let's face it."

"What?" I asked, not looking up from my coffee.

"Do you have any fucking idea how hot your girlfriend is!" he exclaimed, once again drawing the attention of several of the other customers. "She's ridiculously hot! She could get laid every minute of every day until your wedding! She's probably got some guy's dick inside her right now!"

"Alright, alright!" I stated with annoyance. "I know. I don't need you to tell me that. I'm trying not to think about it."

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