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The dancer's face went into a spasm. He pulled out, squirting his own special decoration all over the nun's faces. The chant of "Yes, Yes, Yes," came from the entire Hen Party, almost making the wall shake with their volume, stomping and clapping like wild women. My companions put down their drinks, stood up and joined them, while I stood partly in fascination and party in incredulity, wishing I was anywhere else.
The party went on for a while after that. I made it home somehow, I don't really remember the details well, but I remember slipping out of my clothes to get into the pink lace monstrosity of my childhood. I must have smoked two or three cigars from the taste in my mouth, and I drank three glasses of water before I went to bed to fend off tomorrow's inevitable hangover. After turning out the light, the room went into a slow spin that made me drowsy, and the room was cool enough I didn't want to throw off the covers. Just as I was losing consciousness, I heard distant voices through the vents, familiar voices:
"What is Madame's desire this evening?"
"I think I would like to be rogered from behind, with your authoritative hand chastising my naughty backside, Willikins."
"Yes, Madame. I am afraid after last night's exertions, my ability to provide the tumescence you are accustomed to is compromised."
"I would be happy to provide some oral stimulation to restore your remarkable tumescent capability."
"That would be very good, Madame."
As I lost consciousness, one thought filled my mind: Gosh, their sex life is dull.
