Family Wedding
I'd just started going out with a very nice young lady whose brother was imminently due to get married. Sure enough, I was duly invited to the wedding. Very nice, very posh (he's a city boy), wonderful time had by all.

Until.

They had arranged for some samba dancers to hold a group samba lesson immediately prior to the reception. It's fair to say I wasn't very good. As I left the floor in ignominy and left new g/f to it, who should I see but a good friend of mine, coincidentally arriving for the evening do as a guest of new g/f's mate. A-ha! An alternative to making a fool of myself, I thought, and the two of us retreated to the bar.

Then I woke up in the bath, partially clothed, it was daylight, and my mouth tasted like there was a frenchman living in it. I had absolutely no idea how I'd got there, or what had happened. New g/f wasn't best pleased with me, to put it mildly, and after some delicate negotiation she filled me in on the details.

I'd got absolutely wankered on guinness, started loudly pontificating about "fucking tory cunts" to g/f's Daily Mail-reading dad, thrown a full pint glass across the bar in full view of everyone and flatly denied I'd done it, gone back to the dancefloor to confront the g/f's mother and angrily insist that she should be "reaching for the lasers", then thankfully been dragged off and up to my bed by a crowd of concerned guests. All by about 8.30 pm.

At about 9pm I reappeared in the room with my cock hanging out of my trousers on the grounds that the grandmothers and other assorted elderly relatives would "love it".

BTW the new g/f is now my wife.
(Ali Bongo 9000 Ali Bongo 9000, Thu 14 Jul 2005, 18:48, Reply)