My Best Friend Won’t Stop Having Sex at My House
It’s starting to get sticky
This story, I swear, is 100% true and sicker than shit.
It all started at my wedding. It was a perfect, beautiful night. I’ll spare you the glorious details. ✨
Three weeks later, my best friend Jerry and I were out for drinks, and after two shots of tequila, he looked at me and screamed in laughter. I start looking around wildly. “What? Is there something on my face? Do I have a gray hair? Please no — I’m too young for gray hair.” “Shut up, idiot,” he said, and then continued with, “I fucked Marilyn (we’ll call her that) in the bathroom at your wedding.”
I laughed, sort of insanely. “What? How? That bathroom was 2 feet wide.”
“Not a problem,” he said, casually popping a tortilla chip in his mouth (The audacity).
“She put her knees on the toilet seat, I lifted her dress, and 5 minutes later, we walked out.”
“Fuck me,” I said. I was shocked, but not really, because he’s like this. So, we laughed our asses off about it for a solid hour. I thought it was over. At this point, I wasn’t even sure it was true because he is known to embellish stories.
- By the way, we’ve been best friends for about 12 years. Yes, a man and woman can be best friends and not be attracted to each other. We met through mutual friends, and we both have a sick, dark, twisted sense of humor… the rest is history. Just in case anyone was wondering. Moving on.
Next up. Summer party. At least 50 people were present. It was a Cornhole tournament because I live in the Midwest, and that’s what we do. We’ve got Cornhole, poker, or corn mazes.
My team is up. Team name: Corn Cob Knob Slob. I’m in the middle of not so expertly tossing a bean bag, and Jerry saunters up to me. “I just banged Marilyn in your laundry room. We turned on the washer, and it jiggled her jugs all over the place.”
I jerked, and my bag missed by a million miles. “No, you didn’t.”
“Yes. Yes, I did.” And the fucker just walked away smirking.
I went out of town; he has a key to my house. Don’t all best friends have keys to your house?
My husband and I are relaxing, looking out at the fantastic views of Sedona, AZ, and I get a facetime call. It’s Jerry. I answer because we often facetime each other, purposely interrupting whatever fun we may be having. (It’s part of the darkness.) He says, “Hey idiot.” and then whispers, “I just made love on your staircase.”
First of all: made love? Are you my grandpa? 🙄
“Fuck you, man!” I hung up on him. I made a mental note to take my key back and give it to my mom instead.
I hosted a poker party. I never play, but I’m an excellent host, and I walk around getting everyone drinks, making off-color jokes, whatever needs to be done. It was a 20’s-themed party. Jerry is dating a different girl. Let’s call her Sophia. I’m walking around with glasses of wine, trying to remember who I was supposed to deliver them to. He walks up behind me. “I’m having a blast!” he says. I looked over my shoulder and smiled. Then: “I just gave it to Sophia in your bedroom.” I snapped my neck around. He quickly says, “Not on your bed! That’s crossing a line. It was against the wall.” And he walked away.
I had an unconventional party for some friends who were getting married. It was a co-ed party, and because I love sex stores so much, I had plenty of blow-up dolls scattered around my home that night. Around 1 am, I was pretty hammered, and Jerry walked up to me. He leans in toward my ear. “I took that Christina Aguilera blow-up doll down to the fire pit and loaded her up. Don’t worry; I threw it in the fire when I finished. No clean-up to be done.” 🤖🤖
What? Too far! Too. Far.
He’s currently unattached. Recently, we were having lunch at our favorite place. A few shots down, and he says, “Next time you have a party, I’m cutting a hole in your bathroom door, locking myself in, and sticking my rod through it. That way, anyone who comes by can take a lick, if they’d like.” 🍆 🕳
