After the Hen Do

"Now, a toast, please raise your glass," Eliza began, but stopped to elbow the girl sitting next to her in the ribs, hard, causing her to slop bright orange liquid out of her cocktail glass. "Stop giggling, Lily, for fuck's sake, I'm trying to do a toast."

Lily's giggles set me off and Eliza looked exasperated. The fourth girl in our group, Clementine, ineffectually dabbed at the spilt drink with a paper napkin which was sodden in seconds.

"A toast to Tiggy," Eliza said, tossing her platinum blonde hair back over her shoulder as she lifted her glass up. "Three days of freedom left, before a lifetime of Hugo."

Everyone except me giggled this time.

"To freedom!" Lily yelled, almost screeching, and picked up her sticky glass.

"And speaking of freedom," Eliza continued, lowering her voice, "A particularly dishy-looking man just walked in."

All four of us looked over towards the door of the bar. Two men had walked in, but it was obvious which one Eliza meant; in his mid-twenties, he was immaculately dressed in a navy blue suit, open collar, with expensive shoes. But, even after half a bottle of chardonnay and three cocktails, I wasn't too drunk to notice the way he wore his watch, exposed so everyone could see what brand it was, and the fact that he had his Porsche keyring in his hand, not in his pocket.

"Gay," both Clementine and I said at the same time.

"Closeted gay," Lily corrected us. The man glanced in our direction and we pretended we weren't looking as he walked past.

"Do you reckon the guy he's with is his boyfriend?" Eliza asked.

The other man was older, greying and had a middle-aged spread, but he was still dressed expensively but understated.

"Probably," Clementine said. "Those good-looking types always seem to end up with a rich sugar daddy."

Eliza grinned at me. "Just like our Tiggy here. Tell me again, how many billions does Hugo's daddy have stashed away in the Cayman Islands?"

I rolled my eyes. "It's not billions," I said, flatly, but the point was made.

"All I'm saying is, you'd better throw some fucking good garden parties in that mansion he buys you," Lily said, slurring slightly.

"Hey, gay guy is looking at you," Eliza suddenly said, hissing the words at me.

"We're a hen do, dressed in ridiculous dresses, giggling about billionaire sugar daddies, of course he's looking at us," I said, flatly. Admittedly, the dresses weren't ridiculous: Eliza's idea of a theme for the hen do was the Olympics, since Hugo had competed in the javelin in Rio and been eliminated in the qualifying round. I was wearing a gold, figure-hugging dress that was significantly shorter than I would usually wear, courtesy once again of Eliza. She, self-appointed head bridesmaid, was wearing silver, and Lily and Clemmy were in bronze. All of us looked slutty, with boobs and bums on display, but Eliza insisted it was an essential part of a good hen do.

"Go and ask him for his number," Clemmy urged me.

"Not again. I said no to those two guys in the restaurant, and I'm saying no now," I said, tired of the three of them desperately trying to get me to cheat on Hugo. "If you think he's cute, you go and ask him."

"It's your hen do," Eliza said. "You're the centre of attention, that's the whole point."

"But I'm the one getting married in three days, I'm not going to jump into bed with a man I've never met before."

"It's about the thrill, Tiggy, you're not going to sleep with him, just string him along and enjoy his attention for the night."

"It's just flirting, it's not cheating," Lily added, draining the bottom of her cocktail with her black paper straw.

"More drinks?" Clemmy asked, diplomatically. The four of us had been friends since our days at the incredibly exclusive Ladies' School for Girls and disagreements rarely got out of hand, usually because Clemmy was on hand to smooth things over.

"We should move on," Eliza said, looking at the time on her phone. "It's already nearly eleven."

"Let's go then, drink up," Lily said, excitedly, and the other three of us hurriedly finished our cocktails as she shrugged on her coat.

It was surprisingly cold for May, and when the wind blew right into us outside the bar I could feel my legs shivering, exposed by the dress. We huddled together for warmth while Eliza looked at a map on her phone.

"This way," she said. This was the first time any of us had been to Newcastle, and it felt strange to be looking up directions while the locals walked around half-cut without any guidance at all. And they also did it without any coats, despite the freezing wind. This was all part of Eliza's idea for us to 'slum it' for the weekend: no thirty-pounds-a-cocktail drinks at a Mayfair bar, this was a weekend of three-for-a-tenner bars with sticky floors and plastic glasses. It had been fun so far, though.

"Roane's is just round this corner," Eliza told us, pointing to a set of traffic lights up ahead. That was the nightclub she'd been desperate for us to go to: it had a dreadful reputation but a kind of exotic attraction, and when we got up close to the two security guards standing outside and got a strong whiff of herbal cigarettes, I told myself we could always leave after one drink.

Our IDs were checked and Lily was convinced she'd left hers in the last bar until it turned up in Clemmy's clutch, where she'd put it for safekeeping.

"Tell you what, that guy who checked my ID was pretty fine," Eliza said, giggling as we got inside.

"Best-looking bouncer I've ever seen," Lily said. "Tiggy, you should-"

"Go and ask for his number, yes, I've heard that one before, thanks."

The interior of Roane's was dull, tired and out-of-date, and it looked like it hadn't been repainted in at least ten years. But vague dance music was thumping away, it was three-quarters full and there was a booth free in the furthest back corner which didn't look too filthy.

"I'll get drinks, it's my turn," Clemmy offered once we'd taken our coats off, grabbing her card and wading off into the crowd, Lily in tow for protection. The clientele of Roane's was much, much lower-class than we'd run into so far: no Porsche keyrings to be seen here. A lot of the people I could see on the dancefloor or leaning against the walls seemed older, women and men in their late thirties or early forties. The younger crowd were closer to the DJ, the girls in clingy dresses with masses of spray tan and the guys in designer jeans and polos. We looked slightly out of place and when Clemmy and Lily got back with bright blue cocktails, a few of the guys were casting glances in our direction. The term 'fresh meat' definitely came to mind.

"Cheers," Eliza said, and we sipped the blue drinks. It tasted disgustingly of mouthwash and I wanted to spit it out, but I drank it anyway for the alcohol content and when I put the glass down, it was half-finished and my head was beginning to swim.

"Another guy's looking at you, Tiggy," Eliza pointed out, but I shook my head without looking round.

"I don't even need to look to tell you that there's absolutely no way I am asking any man here for his number," I said, making the others laugh.

"I paid for the drinks with my platinum card and the guy behind the bar acted like he'd never seen one before," Clemmy said with a smile.

"He probably hasn't," Eliza added, and we all giggled again. I picked up my drink and it tasted just as bad as I remembered, so I finished it, mostly so I would never have to have that taste in my mouth again.

"Anyone going to dance?" Clemmy asked, sounding hopeful.

"Maybe if there's a song I recognise," Eliza said, uncertainly.

"They're not going to put on a violin concerto," Lily teased her. "Come on, we're only here tonight, we might as well have fun."

She called it fun, but trying to dance to 'music' which was more like rumbling bass with a crackle of static was challenging enough, especially when packs of guys clutching pints of lager circled us, eyeing us up openly and nudging each other, making comments I was certain were not flattering. One or two of them walked over and tried to join in with the dancing, but Eliza had very sharp elbows and had no problem making it clear we weren't looking for that.

In the end, I decided to escape to the bar to get more drinks. I walked past a guy wearing a baseball cap who never even looked at my face, just looked straight down my dress, and I felt sorry for Clemmy, who had the biggest tits of the four of us and was getting the bulk of the attention.

One end of the bar was crowded but the other seemed empty, so I walked to the empty end, feeling my heels crunch over something that didn't bear thinking about. I didn't touch the bar itself, which was made of a thick, shiny plastic, and just stood there, looking towards the barman, hoping he'd notice me down at this end. And then I felt someone gently take hold of my arm, their rough fingers wrapping around my elbow as they pulled me in the direction of the crowded end.

"Come on, love, give them a bit of privacy."

I pulled back, confused, and looked up to see who was holding me. He was very cute: close-cropped dark hair, clean shaven, dark eyes which were creased in a smile. His accent had been pure northern lilt: the kind of voice Mummy would have sniffed at and claimed she couldn't understand. He nodded in the opposite direction, and when I followed his gaze, I realised I'd been standing about three feet away from a couple who were leaning up against a square pillar, her legs apart, dress pulled up, and his hand in her knickers, moving rapidly as they snogged.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry," I said, horrified, looking away.

The man laughed but didn't take his hand away. "Where are you from?"

"London." Now I'd regained my composure, I could see he was wearing a white, button-up shirt with palm fronds on it and black jeans over red-and-white fashion trainers. He wasn't the worst-dressed man there by a long shot, but it was still an inelegant look.

"Are you here for a hen do?" he asked, eyes on the plastic tiara wedged firmly in my blonde hair.

"That's right. I'm the bride." I wiggled my engagement ring at him.

He nodded. "Nice to meet you, bride, I'm Lee."

I laughed, despite the feebleness of the joke. "I'm Tiggy."

"I might be way off, Tiggy, but I am pretty sure you didn't grow up in a council house in London, right?"

I bristled. "I don't really see what money has to do with anything."

"Oh, it doesn't bother me, as far as I'm concerned a fit bird is a fit bird," he said, finally muscling his way up to the front of the bar with me. Hugo was muscular, of course, being an athlete, but Lee's rough hands and tanned forearms, pitted with tiny burn marks, gave him more of an allure. And he'd called me fit, which made me blush, slightly.

"What are you drinking?"

I hesitated. I hadn't actually decided yet. "Um, a cocktail. Any kind of cocktail is fine."

"Any kind?"

"Not the mint one."

He looked at me for a second, still smiling, then leant over to talk to the barman. "Porn star martini and lager, please." He really was cute, and his voice, even over the pounding music, had a sexy quality.

Once I had my drink, he let go of my arm, and I realised I'd forgotten he was holding it. My arm felt strangely bare without him and the return walk across the expanse of the dance floor felt more intimidating. He pulled out his card to pay for the drinks, but I tried to stop him.

"We're not all poor up north, you know," he said, grinning as he paid. "I can stand a pretty girl a drink occasionally."

I laughed, weakly, getting ready to go. "Maybe I'll see you later?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Nah, I'm going after this drink, sorry."

I hesitated and he noticed.

"I mean, if you give me your number I can let you know where I am later tonight. Maybe we can grab a kebab."

I really laughed this time. "Okay, a kebab it is," I said, and he held out his phone so I could put my number in.

Now, as I rejoined the others, trying not to think about the leering men who were hanging around, I did feel a little bit naughty. I'd just given a strange man my number, the very thing I'd told them I wouldn't do. At least I could keep it to myself. It wasn't like I was going to text him, anyway.

"I saw you give that hot guy your number," Eliza immediately yelled in my ear the instant I got back. "You absolute slut."

"So what? You said it was okay, it's about the thrill," I yelled back, barely able to hear her over the music.

"Yeah, but I didn't mean it, obviously."

The porn star martini really pushed me over the edge. I was too drunk to really know what I was doing and the club turned into a bit of a blur, a mixture of frenzied dancing and shouting and telling several guys who got too close to back off. Then we were back outside in the cold, then giggling in the back of a cab, then suddenly in a brightly-lit kitchen. This was the flat Eliza had rented for the weekend, featureless and bare, finished in white and grey. The first thing Eliza did when we got in was to reach under the sink and pull out two large bottles of vodka and a bag of white powder.

"No, no, I'm off it," Lily said as soon as she saw the coke. "It fucks with my depression tablets."

Eliza shook the bag at Clemmy.

"Makes me feel sick," she shrugged.

"More for us two, then!" Eliza cheered, busying herself making lines while I drunkenly rooted around in cupboards for glasses for the vodka.

We'd drunk half of a bottle of vodka when I snapped back to reality. The coke always gave me a huge buzz which countered the drunk feeling of the alcohol and I practically felt sober all of a sudden. Lily was asleep, face-down on the sofa, a big wet patch on her dress from where she'd spilt her last drink, while Clemmy had gone to bed properly in one of the bedrooms. Eliza and I were sharing a bed in the other bedroom, but neither of us felt tired yet. She'd found some tunes on a wireless speaker and was mumbling her way through half-remembered songs from our youth when my phone vibrated.

Unknown Number: Hiya, it's Lee from Roane's. Are you still out?

I glanced at Eliza, but she didn't seem to care what I was doing.

Tiggy: No, we're back at our flat now x

Lee: Shame, I've got a big greasy kebab with your name on it

Tiggy: To be honest I'm not sure I want a kebab after all...

Lee: All the fat goes straight to your tits, or at least it does to mine

Tiggy: Don't worry, you've already got great tits babe x

Lee: Thanks babe x How are your mates? Still partying at 3?

The clock in the corner of the phone screen ticked over to three am just as his message arrived. I couldn't believe I wasn't more tired.

Tiggy: Two have crashed but I'm still going x

Lee: I thought you might be in bed by now

Tiggy: It's my hen do, I'm supposed to be partying all night!

Lee: No, I meant, in bed getting railed x

Tiggy: Nobody in Roane's swept me off my feet, unfortunately x

Lee: I find that hard to believe! Anyway, aren't you engaged? Where's your fiance this weekend?

Tiggy: Absolutely, you're right, I shouldn't talk to strange men... Never you mind where he is

Lee: I bought you a drink so I don't count as strange

Tiggy: I suppose...

Lee: Anyway, you haven't asked me where I am yet

Tiggy: I thought you were out eating a kebab?

Lee: No, I'm in bed with someone

Tiggy: You're lying

Lee: Well, I'm in bed with my kebab, if that counts

Tiggy: It absolutely doesn't count

Lee: I'm not kicking it out of bed unless you've got a better offer

Tiggy: What about a classy bird? x

Lee: Don't you think that might be a bit rich for me?

Tiggy: Depends on what kind of stuffing you use...

I glanced up from my phone. Eliza was looking at Instagram on her phone, still swaying slightly to the music.

Lee: Well I did see two very nice breasts earlier

I giggled. This definitely felt naughty, now, but I didn't want to stop.

Tiggy: Are you sure they're big enough for you?

Lee: I can't think of any more innuendoes. I would love to play with your tits x

I blushed a little but the buzz was spurring me on. Just the thought of his rough hands on my nipples was getting my knickers damp and I squeezed my thighs together.

"Don't you think he's cute?" Eliza suddenly asked, turning her phone and showing it to me.

"Um, yeah, he is," I said when I saw the Instagram profile on the screen, inwardly thinking 'not as cute as the guy I'm texting'.

"Ugh, I just want to bite those rock hard abs," Eliza said, sounding frustrated. "Coke always gets me fucking horny."

"Me, too," I admitted, turning my phone face down guiltily.

"Right," she said, standing up suddenly, the skirt of her dress hiked up to mid-thigh from how she'd been sitting. "I'm going to have a wank in the shower then go to bed."

"Good luck." I watched her go, using a hairband from her wrist to tie up her hair, then when she was out of the room I picked up my phone again with a rush of excitement.

Tiggy: I'm all alone now x

Lee: You know what I think you're dying to do?

Tiggy: What?

Lee: Get fingered up against a wall in Roane's

Tiggy: Oh God no, that was so disgusting

Lee: Wasn't it? And I bet he's not going to wash his hands afterwards

Tiggy: Probably going to high five all his mates

Lee: What a thought... I assume that was the highlight of your hen do?

Tiggy: Hardly.

Lee: Did you have a good time? Meet anyone nice? x

Tiggy: There was someone...

Lee: Do you know what the traditional ending to a hen do is around here?

Tiggy: No?

Lee: A mysterious stranger giving the bride a couple of orgasms x

Tiggy: You seem very confident in your abilities

Lee: I am... If I was there right now, I would be trying very hard to give you the orgasm you deserve

Tiggy: How would you do that? x

I put my phone down again, face down, and took a couple of deep breaths. My heart was racing and I put one hand on my chest, just above the neckline of my dress, and my skin felt warm. Carefully, I looked over at the sofa where Lily was lying, breathing slowly, sound asleep, before snaking my hand down over my breasts and my tummy to my thighs. The hem of my dress moved upwards as I spread my legs slowly, hidden from view if Lily did wake up by the kitchen counter, and put one finger firmly on my clit through my knickers. I was definitely wet and I rubbed gently, feeling my legs tense as I went back to my phone.

Lee: I'd start by pushing you up against the door, facing away from me, my body pressing into you

Lee: Then I'd kiss your neck, reaching up to unzip your expensive dress, but the zip sticks and I am too impatient to get to your body, so I pull hard and rip it instead

I rubbed myself a little harder, typing one-handed to reply.

Tiggy: That's really hot x

Lee: What underwear do I see when I look down at you? x

Tiggy: Black lace knickers, no bra x

Lee: You can feel me getting turned on looking at your gorgeous bare skin right down to the lace edges of your knickers, and I run my hands down from your shoulders to your hips, holding you in place. The knickers probably have something cute printed across your bum, like 'Bride'?

Tiggy: Yes exactly x

Lee: I give your arse a short, hard slap through your bride knickers to punish you for wanting this so much, then my hand slips between your long legs, rubbing up the inside of your thigh until my hand is pressed firmly into your pussy

Tiggy: Fuck, yes x Punish me

Lee: One hand pushes your knickers to one side, revealing how wet and needy you are, and I press my fingers onto your clit, while my other hand slides up, over your tummy to your tits, squeezing them, taking your nipples between my fingers

I rubbed my clit harder, rolling my hips back to get a better angle, breathing hard through my nose to stifle my moans.