Drunken Road to Disaster

Rachel pats herself, sending puffs of dust into the air. Chandler told himself he was staring at the dust, not the way the black shirt hugged her slim waist and stretched at her oversized bust. She smiled at him, “I feel so dirty. Like an Italian hooker just stuck a finger up my butt.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Phoebe says with Ross on top of her. Her fingers press against the ass of his tight slacks. He quickly rolls off of her protecting his butt. “Some of us like it in the ass.”

“Preach,” cheered Monica from outside the pile, searching for her lost shoe, which was made more difficult without her glasses.

“Hold up!” Bellows Joey. “Everyone stop! Did the hoodie wearing plain Jane over there just say she likes anal!?”

Monica combed one fallen strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. She smiled mischievously, “Don’t call me a plain Jane. I saw your jaw drop when I walked down the aisle in my wedding dress. It’s like you didn’t realize I had boobs. And secondly I’ve enjoyed it. It’s something we did once. One of the things Chandler actually ask to try.”

Chandler doesn’t speak, just blushes as the group looks at him. Their dirty intimacy exposed to the group. Luckily they’d had enough bourbon and have told enough stories that anal with his wife won’t even be a topic of conversation in the morning.

No. They’re have much more scandalous events to discuss in the morning.

Phoebe stretches bending over, her booty in tight pants presenting to the group, “Babe, you need to lose like 80 pounds. You almost broke my back.”

“I almost break your back, every time we fuck. You love it.”

“Sounds rough,” Monica says.

Joey winks, “It is. But I’m sure a thick body like yours could handle it.”

“Are you calling my wife fat?”

“Voluptuous,” Joey corrects. “If she takes off that ratty hoodie, she’ll prove me right.”

Joey flirting with a friend’s wife. After all these years, it was expected. After tonight’s stories, it was welcomed. A invitation to chaos. A drunken night of bad decisions before dawn brought them back to reality.

Monica flirts right back. Takes off her oversized hoodie. Tosses it in the dirt. Stands proudly in tight black leggings that hug her thick thighs, her hint of cameltoe, and fat ass that only became stylish after the Kardashians were on every channel, a tight tank top that doesn’t hide her stomach, or her voluptuous chest. Her beige bra straps dig into her freckled shoulders, the cups push her tits into milky cleavage.

Chandler is left speechless at his wife’s exposure. Even her swimsuits were one pieces. Cleavage only happened by accident, like a breastfeeding baby pulling on her top. Like always Joey has something to say, “Goddamn girl, let me drink that milkshake.”

Monica turns around like on a catwalk, shakes her ass like she’s leaning on a stripped pole and then jumps up and down bouncing her boobs. “All natural.”

“Why do I feel like that’s a shot at me?” Rachel says, drunk talking to herself.

Monica rolls her eyes, “Rachel! You are far and above the most attractive woman here! No offense, Phoebe. Just because your closeted husband isn’t getting it up for you doesn’t mean these two men wouldn’t lick the dirt between your toes.”

Joey smiles, “Good idea. Be a good church wife and bring those tootsies over here.”

Maybe because her husband looks visibly disgusted, Rachel sits down and takes off her boot, peels off her socks, and stretches out her long leg. Toes wiggling in front of Joey’s face like bait. He takes it.

Her toes disappear inside her bearded mouth. Rachel lays back and giggles.

“You cannot be serious,” Ross says. “You can’t just suck my wife’s toes.

“You can suck mine,” Phoebe offers.

Ross violently shakes his head, “I’m not into feet.”

“What are you into?”

Images flash through his head. His true desires. Big veiny cocks that are too big to grip. Asses that jiggle when you smack them. Things he would never say out loud. “Tits. Big tits.”

Phoebe pushes hers together, “Are mine big enough?”

Like an unimpressed judge he says, “I can’t tell in that top. You have to show me.”

A scandalous request. One that takes the night over a cliff. They’ll all in the same boat, rushing toward the waterfall. If the women start stripping, there’s no going back.