Fooling around, but no sex

SHANE

Her cheeks turned red as she answered, "Like, not sex, obviously—"

"Obviously."

"—But, like, flirting or fooling around or whatever. I wouldn't mind."

"Like what happened between you and Connor the other day?"

She nodded, nervously adding, "And maybe even a little more. But just Tracy, not other girls."

My heart raced, not sure how I felt about what she'd just said. Obviously, I liked the idea of getting frisky with Tracy, but the implication was clear—Ria wanted permission to do all that with her secret crush, too.

The idea of them kissing each other was... odd. The idea of him touching her breasts, or of her stroking him through his pants, was worse. But the thought of how happy and horny it would make her was very, very appealing.

"I guess I'd be okay with that, too. If it was you and Connor, I mean."

"You're sure?" she asked.

"Yeah."

In gratitude, Ria crawled beneath the blankets and slipped my quickly recovering cock between her lips.

"Pretend I'm her," she whispered. "Call me 'Tracy.'"

Thankfully, Connor was true to his word. Instead of paying for a stripper, he arranged an evening hanging out with some close buddies of mine at a local bar we all liked. It may not have been the "totally epic" bachelor party Connor had first envisioned for me, but I was exhausted from being over-worked, and an evening of good scotch and good company was exactly what I wanted.

What I appreciated most of all was how Connor—himself a total party animal—insisted on staying sober throughout my stag party so that he could drive me back when the bar closed.

Ria I were observing the whole "don't see each other the night before" tradition, so we'd decided that I would crash on Connor's couch while Tracy spent the night keeping Ria company at our place.

Connor unlocked the front door and bid me make myself at home while he walked into his bedroom to get changed for the night. I collapsed fully-clothed onto the couch, hoping to calm down enough to actually get some sleep. For a moment, I considered phoning Ria to say goodnight, but figured it could wait. She was probably still with her bridesmaids—their party had started a lot later than ours.

"Hey Connor?" I called out. "Thanks for everything tonight. This was a great bachelor party."

"Dude! You're totally welcome. But before you go to bed, I should warn you—it's not quite over."

Before I could guess what he meant, the song "Jingle Bell Rock" blasted out through his bedroom door—so loud I could feel it shaking my ribcage. Connor emerged a second later, wheeling out a gift-wrapped box the size of a washing machine.

The smug grin on his face told the whole story. He'd gone and hired a stripper, after all.

I shouted over the music, "Connor, I said I didn't want this!"

"See you in the morning!"

He bolted out the front door and locked it behind him.