[M]y big dirty 30 bday bash, and missed opportunity

This is going to be quite long, TLDR is at the bottom. This my first post here so I apologize if this is not in the right subreddit. I’ve tried to section off this post so you can scroll to where you like. These events are true to the best of my knowledge, and names have been changed.

Not to spoil the story, but this about a missed opportunity. Here goes…

——>
Background:

My then fiancée and I had purchased a house, first amongst our family and circle of friends…. I guess the stresses of new home ownership got to us a few months in and let’s just say ended up with a big riff in the relationship which ended up with me catching my fiancee cheating…. alarm bells were going off but for some reason I ignored them (that story is for another day, mostly because it’s painful to recall). Fast forward approx 2-3 years from then, couples therapy, counselling, lots of fighting, communication, tears, etc. and we’ve managed to patch things up and still together (I guess what doesn’t break you makes you stronger?).

Tasha (named changed for obvious reasons) was my fiancées best friend from high school. Always the prettiest from the group, wholesome and sweet looking type, quite shy and reserved, light fair skin, big DD’s (although she hid them well when she wanted to), and approx 5’7” and I’d estimate between 120-130lbs, not skinny, but a face and body made to model with curves where they matter. Her mom used to be a model so I assume she inherited the right genes from her but she didn’t follow in those footsteps because of her shyness/modesty but she easily could have. She was/is definitely the type you would want to bring home to the parents.

Yes, you guessed it, I crushed on her hard, sometimes I still think what could have been. She was constantly being hit on or being picked up, but she is also quite superficial or has super high standards, so unless you’re her type, you got shot down pretty quick – unless that was her defence mechanism because of how shy she was. I was definitely not her type, or at least I thought. On an honest scale of 1-10, she’s definitely a hard 9.

Through my earlier years I would chat with her privately, mostly to get her help or coaching or to confide in about my relationship with my then gf (fiancée at the time of this story). But we never crossed boundaries, I was attracted to her but always stayed courteous and polite, and I assume not-so-obvious. If she had any interest in me, it was purely platonic from my point of view and otherwise she hid it very well. I always told myself, if things didn’t work out with my current gf, I would definitely shoot my shot with her.. and her image was in there permanently saved in spank bank.

——>
The party:

We had managed somehow to do some moderate renovations to the house, enough that we were finally willing to invite our friends over and throw our official house warming party and my dirty 30 bday bash bundled together. It would be the house jam of the century (or at least the block, lol).

The invited guests included our circle of friends – family friends, high school friends, some of my co-workers. It was a packed house, DJ pumping the beats, lights down low, alcohol flowing, full on party vibe. Patio/backyard was off limits mostly because this happened to be in the dead winter, and let’s face it, winter is a party-mood killer. Jackets were being kept in the guest room upstairs.

My co-workers are known to be party-ers and generally instigate drinking, they run on island vibes mostly so drinking and partying and good times is implied with them.

Anyways, back to the party, some (majority) of my guy friends are immediately attracted to Tasha. She’s not single but in a fresh relationship under a week old, but her guy couldn’t make it because he’s working. Tasha is friendly, holding up conversations well and managing to keep up with the flirty-banter. A few hours in and probably 3-4 drinks and a few shots, she’s starts getting quite tipsy (she’s a self-proclaimed light weight), and feels she’s gonna crash so my wife sets her up in the guest bedroom. At some point during the night one of my friends (who is not single) disappears, he was fighting with his gf (who didn’t show up) so I’m guessing he was drinking to forget his problems. Given that’s its cold, and his designated driver is still at the house, naturally as a good host I go search for him.

10-15 minutes later I can’t find him and decide to check the rooms upstairs in case he crashed. I decided I would also check up on Tasha as well in case she needed a bucket or blanket. As I opened the guest bedroom door, I noticed my friend (let’s call him Ronan) on top of her (both still fully clothed), her beyond being able to speak coherently but enough that I understood she was trying to push him away because she was not wanting it. My entry must have startled him and he jetted off downstairs and I checked to make sure she was ok. I told my fiancée what happened and we both went back to check on her. From what we could make out she said she was fine, and we let her know that both fiancée and I are here if she needs anything. Ronan soon left with his DD not too long after, of course sending his gf loving texts/calls as if nothing happened. Yes, super douchy and we never talked to him again after that night.

The party continues to go on into the wee hours of the morning (5-6 am ish), majority of the folks have left, and I still want to party because its my dirty 30 so why the hell not. One of our family friends we learn was a bartender so she starts fixing us some shots, jaager-bombs and what not. We start doing heavy shots to get into the party mood and because we also don’t want to waste the expensive liquor left behind by the guests.

—->
The event:

Fiancée decides she can’t keep her eyes open anymore and let’s me know she’s heading to the master-bedroom to pass out. I tell her to check on Tasha on her way. Fast forward another hour or so, and she doesn’t return back, but I’m also feeling the effects of the shots and feel the crash impending like a slow countdown from 10. I manage to stumble upstairs and my bladder indicates to me to go to the bathroom. Except when I get there I end up stepping into a puddle of water, like flooded amount of water. I vaguely recall my fiancée telling me about a mishap with some girl who is passed out in another bedroom wrapped in blankets because … yea let’s not get into that if you still want to have an appetite. But I’m quickly starting to pass out beyond my control, but don’t want to go to bed with toilet water on my feet but too drunk to shower and change.

The nearest room to that bathroom was the guest bedroom. For some reason, I was literally crawling to that bedroom because I could no longer coherently see anything but I could feel the floor and ended up in the guest bedroom where Tasha is fast asleep. Somehow I only managed to get my socks wet so I throw them off. In my incoherent state, with the countdown now at 4, like the idiot I am I decide to be a good person and check on Tasha to make sure she’s ok and then I’ll make my way to the master bedroom – except I never make it to the master.

In my inebriated state, eyes closed or blinded due to the immense amount of alcohol my body is trying to expel, I crawl in to the guest bed and asked Tasha if she had fun, apologize about Ronan, and ask if she’s ok. I tell her this party would not have been the same without her. I guess her inebriation must have been wearing off enough because she was answering back (or at least that’s what I remember). She’s never slept over nor have I ever seen her get that tipsy.

I mentioned how cold I was and how comfy the bed is and we simultaneously pulled each other in for a warm tight cuddle-hug. Except she didn’t let go, so neither did I. I could feel her warmth, her deepening breath, her body tightly pressed up against mine with our legs intertwined.

The most I’ve ever touched Tasha was a high or bye hug, this was the first time I was getting a long lingering tight full body hug. Our faces were nose to nose. I recall telling her how gorgeous she looked and that she was a great friend. I remember her pulling my head in to her cleavage smothering my face into her DD girls. I’ve only imagined what they would feel like and beat my meat off to the thought of them countless times. But she was full on pulling my head into them and subtly moving my head for me in almost a motorboat fashion. She had enough cleavage to smother my face without even fully revealing her gorgeous breasts.

She is moaning, holding me tight, the boob-smothering, the alcohol, it all had obviously an immediate biological effect on me. I tried playing it cool and didn’t try to make it obvious but houston announced it was lift off time, and boy did he lift off and fast. She started swaying almost thrusting her body dry humping my leg as she continues to moan and my hands end up sliding down the back of her pants under her panty lining, sliding up the back of her shirt feeling her smooth skin, and then the front and skimmed the top of her pubic hair with tips of my fingers. She shuddered and I felt the goosebumps it gave her and her breathing continued to get heavier. I confessed that I have always had a major crush on her, and have always wanted her, she reciprocated the feeling in not so many words.

I remember her gliding her hand, gently stroking my hard dick from the outside of my jeans. I’m not sure if my pants were already unbuttoned from my attempt to pee or she was just that stealthy but then I felt her hand stroke my dick sliding up and down just outside my boxers. God it felt so damn good….and then ….

I. totally. black. the. fuck. out.

—-> end of event

When I finally woke up some time late in the afternoon, I was still fully clothed but noticed the top of my pants undone, my dick now flaccid but still tucked under the waistband holding it in place, but no sign of Tasha or anything happening. My balls still felt full so I can only assume nothing happened. As I started checking out the aftermath of this massive party, I found her laying next to my fiancée in the master bed. Both fully clothed, just waking up and obviously still groggy. My wife just chuckled/smirked and said Tasha mentioned how I knocked out in the guest bed so she went and joined my fiancée instead.

Tasha acted normal, said how much she enjoyed the party minus Ronan. She gave us the coherent version of that story. When Tasha was leaving she pretended like absolutely nothing happened. We spoke about Ronan, and my fiancée and I both apologized about him again, she gave us the coherent version of the story, but no mention of happened between her and I.

I’ve always tried to piece together what happened, sort out how much of it was real or my mind playing tricks on me. I did apologize to her via text later during the week, and in person and she said not to worry and assured me nothing happened. I’ve always trusted her so I took her word for it and never spoke of it again. My fiancée once in a while would jab me for it in a joking way, but she also trusts her best friend who I assume told her nothing. Unless, nothing really did happen and it was all just in my head.

But I guess I’ll never know now. It’s been almost 6 years since that party, 2 kids now, moved into a new house and new city and those party days are well behind us. We still see Tasha and hang out but not as frequently as we used to. She’s still as gorgeous as ever.

TLDR: got blackout drunk at my 30th birthday party and nearly ended up sleeping with my fiancées best friend who I’ve crushed on for the longest time

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/dm2esy/my_big_dirty_30_bday_bash_and_missed_opportunity