I’ve gone over it all a million times in my head, and I still can’t see how it all happened the way it did. There are bits and pieces, but they don’t really connect in my head.

It was my wedding day. Sunny blue sky, just enough chill in the air that the guys in tuxes wouldn’t be too sweltering. And I was in the ‘Bridal Suite’, half dressed, trying m to keep from hyperventilating.

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” I kept repeating. I was getting MARRIED! Me, ‘Miss Priss’ (as I’d heard quite a few times over the years), actually wedding a man. An amazing man, even!

One of my friends, Cali maybe? She was telling me to calm down. She kept reminding me how in love we were, and how I’d been waiting for this for ages. And joked that, if I freaked out and ran off, she’d just have to take my amazing guy for herself. Simple teasing to set me at ease.

Another friend, fairly sure it was Rachel, handed me a sweet drink. Then another one. Keeping my mouth full of liquid rather than spewing out my nerves.

Sweet drinks that were a bit more ... alcoholic ... than I normally drank. Which was fine; they settled my nerves and relaxed me a bit. Except Rachel just kept them coming, even after I had calmed down. Not her fault. I was still a bit nervous, and she knew more than anyone how I could spiral into a freak out.

And then, two hours before I said my ‘I do’, I was the teeny tiniest bit ... sloshed. Everything was awesome, everything was fine. And somehow I was talking to my old college friend, Mona.

I didn’t even remember inviting her to the wedding, but there she was in the Bridal Suite, sitting on the bed next to me. Laughing as both of us remembered stories from our college days.

“Oh my god, Mona. Why did we stop hanging out?” I was a bit too intoxicated to remember. We’d once been besties, but had stopped hanging out our last year in college, and for the life of me I couldn’t remember why at that moment. “Was it something I did? Or said? If so, I’m soooooo sorry.”

She just laughed. “Sweetie,” she said (which was the nickname she’d always called me), “if you can’t remember, I don’t want to drag it up again. Let’s just say we disagreed on how likely something was to happen, and neither of us were willing to back down.”

I pulled her in for a small hug, and gave a small, sad sniff. “Well, I’m sorry. You were probably right about whatever it was. And if it gets my best bestie back at my side, I’m glad I don’t remember.”

“Oh, sweetie, you may not remember that, but what about ... Karlo? I bet you can still picture him as clear as day.” I shook my head, as I couldn’t picture him, and Mona poked me in my bare side and laughed. “Oh, he was that tall drink of water from Econ. All lanky muscles and smarts.” That sounded vaguely familiar, I could picture a bright smile and sharing my book because he’d forgotten his.

Mona looked around, to see if anyone was listening. But when I glanced around, the girls were all clustered by the door, giggling about something and glancing back at us.

Catching their eyes Mona leaned in and whispered to me, “Then you don’t remember how bad he wanted to get in your pants.” I did an actual spit take.

“What???” I gasped.

Mona just laughed at my shocked expression. “Oh seriously! You can’t still be that innocent, sweetie?”

Rachel, approaching as the other girls slipped out the door, laughed as well. “Oh, I think she’s somehow even MORE innocent by now.”

“Hey...” I protested, but not too hard. It was sort-of true. I’d decided at an early age, after finding out my slightly-older cousin had gotten pregnant at sixteen, and that my aunt on the other side had been cheated on, that I wasn’t going to listen to my hormones. Purity before marriage, and fidelity afterwards.

Something that all of my friends had laughed at when I’d brought it up. Rachel had been especially shocked the night she realized I was serious. “Oh, come on girl. You saying you don’t wanna get a piece of that?” And she’d pointed out some buff sunglass-wearing guy at the end of the bar we were in.

I’d just sipped my white wine spritzer, and laughed it off. Sure I did; I had eyes and he started my heart a-thumping something fierce. But I wasn’t going to give away any of my ‘Firsts’ to some random hunk.

They needed to mean something.

I blinked, as I’d been lost in thought, and missed what Rachel and Mona were talking about, and they’d just turned to me. “What?” I asked.

Rachel patted my cheek, and grinned. “Oh, baby girl, don’t change.”

Mona snorted. “Uh, you better be ready. Our little virgin here is about to be Little Miss Brains-Fucked-Out. That’s going to change her ... everything.”

Rachel laughed as well. “True. I better get ready for her missing our get-togethers because she’s too busy riding a cock.”

“Rachel!” I protested, feeling my cheeks turn red.

Mona put her hand under my chin and made me look at her. “Sweetie, truth me. If hubby-to-be happened to come in and see you like that...?”

I glanced down at myself. The girls had been doing my hair and my makeup, and since I wanted nothing to happen to the dress, I was in my wedding lingerie; a strapless white bra, white lace stocking and the matching garters and belt, and finally the tiniest and most delicate scrap of white silk that could legally be called panties.

“I’d ... uh ... obviously kick him ... uh ... out...”

Rachel just shook her head. “Really?” She managed to convey so much disbelief that I couldn’t stand it.

“Fine...” I whined, staring at the bare skin of my upper legs. “I’m so fucking horny right now I’d be taking him in the wedding bed before the door was shut. You happy?”

“Ecstatic!” Rachel said. And when I glanced up I saw her slipping out the door. Leaving me and Mona alone together.

“Where ... where did they all go?” I asked, taking another drink to hide my confusion.

Mona waved it off. “They’ve got a little ‘Bridesmaid Surprise’ they’ve been putting together. But they have to miss the beginning.”

I was going to ask the beginning of what, but the door opened, and a pair of bellboys wheeled in a food trolley with a single silver cover in the middle of it. And Mona gave me a quiet ‘shhh’ to my ear as they efficiently wheeled it to a spot about a yard in front of where I was sitting on the bed.

The one on the left, ebony skin and bulging muscles, gave me a bright white smile. The one on the right, a mop of blonde hair and shark-tooth earring, gave a small half-bow.

“Well,” shark-tooth said, “I take it you are the beautiful bride. We are here with a special wedding gift for you.”

The other man reached over his meaty hand, the letters ‘OTTO’ tattooed across his knuckles, and pulled the silver food cover away, revealing ... a small speaker?

Some electronic dance music started to play, and suddenly both Shark and Otto were moving to the beat.

“What is-” I started, but Mona shushed me again.

“Don’t interrupt an artist as he works.”

‘An artist?’ I wondered. And then Otto’s shirt went flying across the room. Followed rather quickly by Shark’s flying to the other side. “Oh ... my...” I gasped.

Otto’s muscles had muscles, every movement flexing them in new and interesting ways. And Shark was a lean mean gyrating machine, like a professional dancer and not like ... like...

“Strippers?!?” I quietly hissed at Mona. “Why are there half-naked men in my bridal bedroom?”

She smiled at my outrage, and whispered back, “Please, sweetie, they’re wearing more clothes than you are.”