Drunkenness gone too far

The memory of that day is so hazy. **** combined with passing time has almost erased it from my mind.

I don’t say anything as I try to remember what happened.

We all met back on campus. The six of us and four kids under two. Chaos in the cold. Diaper changes in porta potties. Ross pouring whiskey into my steaming coffee. Joey’s daughter strapped to his chest like a bomb.

It was her first time out of the house in months. Phoebe acted like she was home from deployment. Vodka and OJ in Nalgene bottle. Snuck in under her coat. Passed it back and forth until it was empty, until our bladders were bursting

The petite Asian in the peacoat grabbed my sleeve, “You went here. Show me the bathroom.”

Passed the baby to my wife, and led her into the concourse and pointed. She gagged, “I don’t want to go in there. Find me someplace warm.”

Out of the stadium the wind whipped us. I held her so she didn’t blow away, and led her to the only place I could think of: my old fraternity house.

The mansion I shared with 40 dudes for four years. She enjoyed the private ladies bathroom all to herself. I pissed in a urinal and leaned my head against the wall.

She was not interested in going back out into the cold. She asked, “Show me the room you used to have.”

“I had a different room each year.”

“Show me the one where you last got laid,” she said.

Up the staircase of the empty house. Past the composites lining the walls to the last room on the left. The door was unlocked.

New furniture, different arrangement, a different generation living in the same room. They put in a new feature—a homemade platform with a stripper pole.

Sunk into the overstuffed couch, I watched Phoebe climb unto the platform and twirl around the pole. She asked, “Should I be doing this as a mom?”

“Don’t die. It doesn’t look sturdy.”

Squatting down and grinding her ass against the pole, she seductively unbuttoned her coat. She slowly took it off and tossed it at me. In tight black leggings and a grey crew neck, she spun around the pole with ease, using her legs as anchors.

“You still got it,” I applauded.

The door to the room opened. Three fraternity brothers, a handle of rum and a 2-liter of coke. I quickly let them know that I was a brother.

“I hope you don’t mind my wife trying out your pole.”

They didn’t mind at all. They joined me on the couches and shared the rum. After a shot, Phoebe explained, “I’m a new mom. I’m just trying to feel sexy again.”

We couldn’t call her sexy fast enough. If she was fishing for compliments, she was getting a basket full.

She worked the pole. Tested its durability. Her sweatshirt came off. Her white spaghetti strap cami top drew cheers. She definitely wasn’t wearing a bra. She bowed, sweating and breathing hard.

She sat in my lap. Her soft ass pressed in my erection. I asked the guys, “Don’t I have the hottest wife?”

They agreed.

“I hope you don’t mind if my wife gives me a lap dance.”

Phoebe’s eyes smiled at me. She fed me the bottle of rum then took a shot herself.

She danced on me as these three college guys watched. Her hands roamed my body. My hands roamed hers. There were no rules about touching the dancers. I could do whatever I wanted.

She bent over in front of me and worked her ass in my lap. I smacked and squeezed her softness. She was so sexy. She hadn’t lost it in motherhood.

She turned around and straddled my hips. She rubbed her perky tits in my face. Rubbing her hard nipples across my lips. I could feel the warmness of her pussy through her leggings. She was getting as turned on as me.

We were acting like newly weds who waited until marriage for sex.

The frat guys politely asked if we’d like some privacy. They handed me a condom when they dapped me up as they left and locked the door.

Alone in a room. Drunk off our asses. Our bodies raging for each other. Do we do this? We didn’t discuss it. We just looked into each other’s eyes, daring the other to make the jump first. Our hearts pounding against each other. There was no question that we wanted it, but was it worth the consequences.

And my memory darkens. The next thing I remember is having Monica pull over so I could puke on the side of the road. She was pissed I got so drunk. I was a father now. I had to control myself.

I tell Monica and the group the truth, “We went back to the fraternity house. Some of the guys there got us drunk. Too drunk. I remember puking a lot. We shouldn’t have drunk so much. It was dumb.”

Monica is still not convinced, She looks to Phoebe. “Okay Ms. Open Book. Tell us what happened. I’m already thinking the worst so just tell me.”