"Michael."
As soon as I heard that word being cooed in a sweet dulcet tone I knew that she wanted something. Smiling I turned to see what I was to be saddled with.
Janie was a friend of mine. She'd friend-zoned me on the day we met, and I'd never got past that stage, which was a bit of a disappointment, but you can't win them all.
"Janie, love," I said. "How are you, and what do you want."
"What makes you think I want something," she demanded indignantly.
"Because you do," I replied.
She gave me one of those looks that girls hand out at times, indicating that they're disappointed in you.
"Well, seeing as how you mention it," she said, "you know Debbie is getting married next week?"
"I do," I said cautiously.
"Well, tomorrow is her hen's night, and we need someone to pick us up at my place at about four o'clock and run us to the station. There'll be five of us going into the city. We'll be coming home by taxi, but it's too expensive to take one both ways."
"That's all? Just pick the lot of you up at four and run you to the station?"
"Please."
"No problems. I'll put a reminder in my phone and see you tomorrow at four." I didn't mind. I was getting off lightly.
"Thanks, Michael. You're a sweetie," said Janie, dancing away.
So at four o'clock the next day I rolled up to act as a free taxi. I assumed that they wouldn't be ready, and I was correct, but there was only a little primping to be done. I figured I'd be out of there in fifteen minutes, with duty accomplished soon after.
I hadn't allowed for the shots. They skulled them while I watched, and it was pretty plain to me that it wasn't their first drink for the afternoon. They weren't drunk, by any means, but they were happy. And made no allowances for my being there as they chatted.
There was much giggling when Debbie told them that her mother had offered to have a chat with her about what would be was required of her on her wedding night.
"Didn't you tell her that you and Charlie had already been practising?" one of the girls asked.
"Of course not. I just assured her that I'd be right and that I'd read all the books and had discussed the subject with some friends."
"And she believed you?"
"Why not? It was the truth."
There was a bit of giggling at that, and one of the girls cracked, "Tell the truth, but not the whole truth, leave out the good parts."
I coughed at this stage, indicating I was there and waiting, and the girls turned to me, assuring me they wouldn't keep me much longer. Then they started ribbing Debbie about her past and future sex life.
One of the girls then came out and blatantly asked just how big a dick Charlie had.
Debbie stopped to consider this and then shrugged.
"It's a bit hard to say," she said. "I really need something to compare it against."
The girls stopped to consider this, and that's when the situation spiralled right out of control as far as I was concerned. One of the girls suddenly came up with what they all thought was an eminently reasonable suggestion.
"Michael's here. You can look at his and say whether Charlie is bigger or smaller."
The next thing I knew they were all looking at me, expecting me to whip out my old fellow so they could judge the size. I, of course, explained that this wasn't on.
"Why not," demanded Janie, of all people. "You know damn well you've been wanting to show it to me ever since we met."
True, but I hadn't realised that she knew it. Friend-zone, remember.
"How about because you're all tipsy and you'll regret it tomorrow?"
"Are you saying we're drunk?" demanded Debbie.
"Of course not," I said soothingly. "Just a little happy. Shouldn't we be heading down to the station?"
"After we have settled this," announced Debbie grandly. "It's my hen's night and I should be allowed to look at your dick if I want to."
Unfortunately, the rest of the hens seemed to think this was only fair.
"I'll unzip you if you're nervous," said one sweet young thing. "You'll find it's really quite painless."
"He's my friend," stated Janie, "so I get to unzip him."
She didn't muck around. She just reached down and unzipped and dragged me into the daylight. There was general disappointment.
"It's not standing up," grumbled one of them. "How can Debbie judge if it doesn't stand up?"
"That's OK," said another. "This'll let Debbie show us she can make it stand. Over to you Debbie."
So while I stood there Debbie reached down and squeezed me and then stroked me a little. It didn't take much. I could be the shyest person in the world, but with five attractive young women standing around while one of them pats him, and the old fellow forgets everything but the chance to show off.