While I was at my mate’s stag-night, my girlfriend was being chatted-up by a stag. It was three weeks ago, and it was one of those ‘clash of parties’ situations. No decent parties for months and then two come along at the same time! We were invited to a very good friend of ours’ 40th party. It was going to be a humdinger; big house; fancy dress; everything laid on. But an old mate of mine from school was getting married and his best man rang me a week before-hand to say ‘I’ve got to be there!’ So out of some strange loyalty I agreed and promised to go. Then he gave me some tasks in the organisation of it which kind of cemented my commitment. My girlfriend of five years, Abbi, was furious. She said, ‘How could I not go to Jill’s fortieth?’ Jill was originally a friend of hers but had become a friend of ‘ours’ over the years. Jill had been a bit of a one in her day (she was a real looker), but had landed on her feet and married a very rich guy two years ago called Gregory (who was something in the city - in his father’s company). He was loaded... and on the occasions which we got together he was very pleasant, and extremely generous. Because he wasn’t particularly good-looking, I always joked that she married him solely for his money. Abbi would give me daggers, but I could tell she thought the same. The theme for Jill’s Party was ‘The movies’. I was going to go as The Terminator. But Abbi wanted me to go as Tarzan because she wanted to go as Jane. Anyway, to cut a long story short, she went as ‘Jane’. Her outfit made from some chamois leathers from the garage and a few pale leather boot-laces. Even her knickers were carefully crafted out of chamois leather taking a pattern from her skimpiest bikini bottoms! She looked so God damn horny I didn’t want to let her go. She had one chamois ‘just hanging’ halter-neck over her chest, with another cut in two around her waist using the leather thongs as side-ties. It only just covered her beautiful bum. Her home-made suede panties didn’t have a full back... it was just another leather thong in a T-back fashion. I insisted that she added another leather tie to her top that went around her back otherwise anybody could just lift it up and see her breasts... Or if she leant forward she’d give the whole party a serious flash of nipple. In fact, I did it myself - and tied it quite tight. I knew she was going to enjoy herself, because as she walked out of the door to get into her cab, I noticed she’d loosened the leather strap across her back to ‘very, very slack’... I didn’t say anything as I didn’t want to appear worried or insecure at her going to a party dressed like that. After all, I trusted her. I left for my mate’s Stag Night which was more local about half an hour later. The bash was a bit slow to begin with and gave me time to wonder what Abbi was getting up to, but it soon turned into a typical Bacchanalian braganza. We had a stomping time... a stripper... a few drunken snogs from the girls of a local Hen Night. And Dave (the groom) and Frank managed to get off with the bride and bridesmaid. Ironic, I thought. I started to ring Abbi on her mobile to see if she was okay, but there was no answer. I tried a few more times and then the phone was turned off. I managed to reach a friend of hers who I knew was at the party and she told me that she hadn’t seen Abbi for ages and thought she’d possibly gone home. Abbi leave a party before midnight? I don’t think so! Something was up. I called her friend’s boyfriend (who I knew a bit, but not that well) and asked him for the man’s point of view of the situation. He confirmed that Abbi hadn’t left the party, but did add that he had last seen her getting very friendly with ‘Tarzan’... I laughed, and said you’re kidding me. “Nope”, he said. And didn’t say much more before his girlfriend asked who he was talking to. I left the Stag Night and went home. It was a long lonely night. I thought about getting a cab to the party many times but believed Abbi would come walking through the door five minutes after I left and I would then look a total idiot. She did come home, but at 5.20am. She’d lost the leather back-tie I’d added to her top and tried pathetically to conceal the fact. Obviously somebody had removed her top for some reason? I mused. “So how was the King of the Jungle?” I joked. “How d’you know?”, she snapped. “Know what?”, I said. “How did you know that I got off with Tarzan?” “Who else is Jane going to go with... Clarence the cross-eyed lion?” I jested. I had a smug face because I knew I’d caught her out, but that was soon wiped away with her next explosive ramblings. “Yeah.. there was a guy there dressed as Tarzan - and he was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous - he naturally came over to me and, after the chit-chat, said that we should go and climb up a tree and make mad, passionate love to each other until the sun comes up. His body was incredible. He was only wearing a loin-cloth - and I mean ‘only wearing a loin-cloth’. As we kissed (or rather snogged), I could feel his thick penis becoming very erect against me. He joked that he couldn’t move away from me or he’d be demonstrating the latest in ridge-tents. I said, “Don’t lose it Gorgeous because I’ve got to fuck you... now!” “So, symbolically, the stairs were the tree... did Tarzan make a nest?” She said, “I’ll tell you later!!” and promptly fell asleep. TO BE CONTINUED