"Just be friendly, be yourself, and I'm sure they'll love you just as much as I do," said Jenny before getting out of the car, "And whatever happens, play along. These guys will never let you live it down if they think you're a wet blanket."
It was advice I'd later come to regret following.
I'm Brad and Jenny was my wife of over two years. We'd just arrived in the small town where she'd grown up, there for the wedding of two of her old high school friends.
Jenny and I had met in the city where we'd both gone to college and for the entire time I'd known her she'd never gone back to her hometown. Her parents had retired and moved away years ago and there wasn't a whole lot left for her there. Her one last connection was her old group of high school friends, whom she spoke of often but I had never met. Jenny had insisted that it wasn't even necessary to invite them to our wedding, which we had tried to keep small.
"Besides," she had said at the time, "I can't invite one without inviting them all, and I'd rather not have any exes at my wedding."
The ex in question was a guy named Rick, her first "real" relationship as she'd put it. Jenny really hadn't dated at all until her senior year of high school when she got together with Rick. They broke up a year later after failing to make long-distance work while Jenny was away at school and Rick was still hanging around town.
I never got jealous when she'd mention Rick because my relationship with Jenny was rock solid. We had loads in common and our personalities were very compatible. She was intelligent, had strong morals and it didn't hurt that she was absolutely beautiful. She was your basic dream girl: adorable face, shiny brunette hair and an amazing figure with plump, heavy breasts and a soft ass with just the right amount of wiggle to it. She was the quintessential girl-next-door and I was head over heels the moment I met her.
The wedding we'd come down for was that of her old friends Erika and Chuck. Jenny had been planning the trip for months and early on she had accepted an invitation to stay at a rented lake house on the edge of town with her old inner-circle: Mark and Tiffany, longtime sweethearts; Jon, a burly goofball; and of course Rick, her one-time boyfriend. These five were closer with each other than they were with the larger group and they were the ones I'd heard the most stories about.
"And don't let Jon and those guys hassle you too much," said Jenny. She'd gotten out of the car and leaned back inside to give me more advice, "If they start ragging on you for being a 'city boy' or anything like that, just be cool and show them it doesn't bother you."
With that she slammed her door shut and ran up towards the lake house to give Tiffany, who was coming out to greet her, a hug.
We unloaded the car and the introductions started. I'd never met anyone who was actually named Tiffany (I thought it was a name only strippers in movies had) but Tiffany fit that bill pretty well. She had curly blonde hair, wore cheap, skimpy clothes and had a pair of fake tits that could poke your eye out. Seemingly never more than five feet away was her husband Mark, who seemed like an alright guy, if a little arrogant.
I was a little taken aback by Jon, whom Jenny had described as "big". That was one hell of an understatement. He was a good foot taller than me, had to be close to 300lbs and was built like Paul Bunyan with a beer gut. His thick, scraggly beard only added to the effect. But I soon realized that everything Jenny had said was true and Jon was a really, genuinely nice guy with a great sense of humor.
Last but not least was Rick. I was a bit worried about getting a cool reception, but he smiled, shook my hand and was nice as can be. Like all the others he lit up and gave Jenny a big hug when he saw her, but nothing to bat an eye at.
It was Friday afternoon and the wedding wasn't until Sunday, so after settling in we all gathered on the deck outside, chatting, drinking, telling stories and looking out at the beautiful lake.
"Great house, by the way, Mark," I said. Mark had been the one to find the place and invite us.
"Yeah, isn't it? We've come out here a few times over the years but this might be the last hurrah," he said, "Owners are tired of renting it and are looking to sell."
"Boo! This place is great!" said Jenny. She was unusually exuberant, but I chalked it up to being back with her old friends (and the two beers she'd already drained).
"Sure is. Anyone for a swim?" asked Jon with his trademark toothy grin.
There was general disinterest in the idea but Jon's enthusiasm for it soon had us all heading off to change into our swimsuits. In our room, I put on my trunks and watched Jenny put on her flowery, red one-piece. I loved watching her full breasts hang and jiggle as she bent to slip on the suit. Her boobs are amazing; like overplump grapefruits hanging off her with a gentle slope, ending in lovely pink pencil eraser nipples. She noticed me watching and smiled.
"I brought a bikini too," she said, stepping into my arms, "Would you prefer I wear that one?"
"I'm pretty sure you'll get jumped if you did," I said, "This one might do the trick as well."
We kissed and I squeezed her sweet ass with both hands. She pulled away and playfully slapped my chest.
"Later. We don't want to be rude," she said, and with that grabbed a beach towel and headed out of the room.
I stopped on the way out to grab some more drinks, and when I reached the edge of the lake everyone was already in the water. Jon and Rick were playfully splashing at Jenny, who was still acclimating to the water. It must have been cold since even at a distance I could see her juicy nipples starting to poke out against the flexible fabric of her swimsuit. I'm sure the guys were enjoying that show but what the hell, so was I, and before long we were all chest deep in the water and Jenny's nipples were out of view anyway.
We all waded around for a bit then Jon suggested we play some games or something. We started with the classic Who Can Hold Their Breath Longest, then moved on to the old standby Marco Polo. That's when I started noticing the touching. Tiffany and Mark were the most obvious; whenever one would go to tag the other you could bet their hand would "accidentally" land on one of the more risque parts of the body. As the game went on, I noticed that Rick and Jon were also tagging Tiffany in ways that they probably wouldn't have gotten away with in grammar school. Mark didn't seemed fazed in the slightest by it, even laughing when Rick turned quickly and accidentally-maybe-on-purpose got his palm right on one of Tiffany's tits. Her response was mock outrage and we all laughed about it.
Jenny was...maybe a bit jealous? She was laughing along with the rest of us but it felt like she was trying really hard to fit in with her old crew, even harder than I was. None of the guys were taking any liberties with her, but at moments it kinda seemed like she was daring them to, even egging them on maybe.