Having Fucked the Bride

[Windsorm]

In the 1980s I went to two weddings after which the bride moved in with me two years later and the other six years later.

I haven’t been invited to many weddings since.

[EyefunJo]

I have this longtime friend, Annie, who I met through my college girlfriend’s best friend. Annie was her cousin, freshly moved from another state. She was nothing like my girlfriend at the time. Tall, slender, with a killer figure and this sweet, radiant beauty—complete with dimples when she smiled. Back then, being a few years younger than me, I naturally treated her like a little sister, looking out for her.

Eventually, my girlfriend and I broke up, and I lost touch with her best friend, but Annie and I stayed close. Her love life was never short of suitors—she’s got a great personality and looks to match. I’ll admit, I thought about pursuing her myself, but between worrying about our social circle and the timing never being right, it just didn’t happen.
Then, at a friend’s gathering, I ran into her again. She’d just become single, so I jumped at the chance to hang out more—grabbing dinners, sipping boba.

One night at my place, we had a few drinks and got to talking about her exes. She started crying, opening up about her past. You know how it is—girls are most vulnerable in moments like that. I held her, comforting her, and one thing led to another. That night, we ended up having sex, multiple times, without any hold back.

The next day, though, she was clear-headed. She said it was the alcohol talking, that she didn’t regret it but wasn’t ready to take things further with me. We stayed friends, still meeting up now and then for meals or hangouts, keeping things easy and familiar.

About 2 years ago, she married a guy from work. At her wedding, she looked absolutely stunning in her gown, like something out of a dream. I’ll be honest—I’ve pictured that moment before, with me as the groom holding her hand. But that’s all it is, a bittersweet fantasy.