My Big Fat Low-Fat Wedding - By Katya Starkey Page 0,17
of lingerie from Lara. Not only that, I’ve been laden with gifts all throughout the evening. I never knew how many different sizes and shapes of dildo were invented until now!
When I’m feeling beyond tipsy I finally tell Lara it’s time to wrap things up. Half the girls have wandered onto the dance floor, while some are sitting on waiters laps at the table.
“We’re not done just yet.” Lara grabs my hand and pulls me up out of my seat, only to direct me to a chair that’s been placed in the centre of the dance floor.
Oh no. Oh please no. “No way am I sitting here,” I say, hopping to my feet. Suddenly, the room darkens further and the music changes tempo to a chick-a-bow-wow beat, complete with sexy eighties saxophone.
More lady-screaming erupts all around.
Flash!
A spotlight, from I don’t know where, centres on the archway next to the bar. Out of which strides a completely clothed gentleman wearing a tuxedo and bowler hat.
“Oohhhh shit.” He’s a stripper. “How could you do this to me, Lolz?” I whimper and sit into the chair. I’m determined to cower here like a good girl, but I have a feeling this is going to be the most embarrassing moment of my entire life.
Sure enough, the man gyrates his way onto the dance floor. When he gets close enough to me the first thing he does is to swirl his groin directly at my face.
I shut my eyes, then peek them back open when nothing else happens for a few seconds.
Riiiiiiiip.
The stripper peels his dinner jacket, shirt and tie off in one go. If I thought the lady-howling from before was loud, it’s nothing compared to the screaming of lust that’s now echoing throughout the party chamber.
I feel like I’m in that film Magic Mike. Except, unlike the women in that movie, I’m definitely not enjoying myself!
The stripper keeps his bowler hat low, so I can’t see his face under all this darkened shadow. This is a good thing, I don’t want to accidentally make eye contact with a man who is once again gyrating his crotch at my face.
There’s another tearing sound and suddenly the stripper guy isn’t wearing trousers any longer. There’s nothing but a thong between my face and his bulging bits as he straddles the chair I’m sitting on.
Lower he grinds towards me. His package bumps down past my sticky-outy boobs. I’m wincing and shoving my head back at the neck. I’ve got my head turned to the side and I’m concentrating on the looks on my friends faces as they hoot and slobber at the sidelines of the dance floor.
When pump-and-grind boy finally sits onto my lap, I’ve had enough. I’m feeling guilty enough about Callum finding out about this fiasco as it is! There’s no way I’m going to let a complete stranger continue to dry hump me in front of everyone I know! Even despite how ripped his abs might be.
Placing my hands onto the strippers shoulders, I’m briefly distracted by the corded muscle.
Stop it, Emily! Concentrate.
And I do. I snap back into the reality of the awkward situation. “I’m sorry!” I shout into his ear over the beat of the cheesy music. For a moment I’m wondering which seventies porn movie they snatched this tune from, but that’s not really my main concern at the moment. “I’m going to have to ask you to please get off of me!”
When I shout this to the oiled up man on my lap, I use one of my hands to tip up his hat.
“Oh for fuck sake! Ben?”
And that’s all it takes. In a flash of recognition the strippers hat flies off his head as he pushes himself directly off my lap.
The music stops abruptly and there’s dead silence all around. Murmurs pour through the crowd of ladies who are wondering what’s going on.
“Oh shit.” My former stripper man mumbles and covers his face with one hand, while covering his lower bulge with the other. “What the hell are you doing here, Emily?”
I for one am not wondering at all what’s going on, because the mostly naked man standing before me is none other than my cousin Nicola’s paramedic, ambulance driving, boyfriend Ben.
***
Ben had run “off stage” without finishing his strip tease routine. Lara and I are once again sat in a taxi. “I am so incredibly sorry, Em.” She mumbles drunkenly.
“It’s okay, you couldn’t have known my cousin Nicola’s boyfriend was a stripper.” Finding this information out the