The evening is going by too darn quickly. We have eaten some wonderful food, played some more naughty hen games, and now we are determined to make our way through the entire cocktail menu. With the alcohol numbly in our veins, everything seems funnier, and the mood is getting positively cruder.

"What drink shall we have next?" Lydia slurs, placing her hands on the table to steady herself.

"Shall we go and have a look up at the bar?" I'd like to think that I'm not slurring, but I know that I am.

Lydia bangs her hands down. "Yes, let's!" She tries to stand demurely but pulls slightly on the tablecloth as she does. Katie quickly grabs it, giggling uncontrollably as she tries to straighten the tablecloth out.

"Hold onto my arm, Lydia," I quietly instruct her. Hoping that together, we maybe able to walk in somewhat of a straight line.

Lydia sleepily looks across at me, drowsily resting her head on my shoulder. "I would, Jessica, if I could bloody well see it."

With that, we are both cackling. Arm in drunken arm, we meander over to the cocktail bar. All three of the Buff Butlers are there to welcome us, wearing hardly anything over their perfectly bronzed bods and a cracking smile on their faces.

"Hey, darlings, we have come to see what other cocktails we can try." Lydia's fingers seductively stroke the bar, as she feigns being more sober than she really is.

Richard laughs. "There's not many more, that I can tell you," he says with a loud laugh.

Kurt interrupts, "How about a Screaming Orgasm?"

Lydia's voice huskily deepens. "Don't all women want one of those, darling?" she asks with a twisted smirk.

"What's in that one, Kurt?" I ask, needing to distract a very drunk Lydia.

"Vodka, Kahlua, and Irish cream."

My face screws up with a small shake of my head. "I'm really not keen on Irish cream," I tell him, feeling nauseous at the mere thought of it.

Lydia knocks against me. "Maybe not Irish cream, but I know that you love a bit of Devonshire cream." Although terribly crude, I can't help but join in with Lydia's hysterical laughter. We laugh loudly, trying not to topple forwards as we bend over in a fit of silly and very immature hysterics; clutching at our stomachs. We must look a right pair of tits, trying so hard to stop ourselves from laughing but the drunken giggles have us firmly in their grip.

Mason leans over the bar, trying to get our attention. "Have you ever tried an Anal Probe?" he asks, amused by our antics.

Lydia tries to contain her giggle. "I'm an experienced woman, Mason, but I can't say that I have." She smirks at him, reaching for me again.

"What does that have in it?" I ask, grappling with my own giggles whilst Lydia floppily hangs off my arm.

"White Rum, Kahlua, and Coke," he tells me, his eyes not deviating from mine.

"That sounds nice, I'll have one of those!" I say, feeling drunk enough to now look at him without feeling as awkward.

Mason shouts over his shoulder at Richard and Kurt. "One Anal Probe for the gorgeous lady."

"I'll grab another one for Katie, as well," I tell him, drunkenly amused by the fact that I've actually said, out loud, that I think an Anal Probe sounds nice.

As I entertain myself with stupidly immature and very inebriated thoughts, Mason's desirous stare still remains on me. Lydia interrupts him by leaning onto my shoulder. "You know what, Mason? I think I'll have one of those too," she carefully tells him, trying really hard to articulate her every word.

Feeling like my bladder is about to combust, I whisper into Lydia's ear, "I'm just nipping to the loo."

With careful and very high-heeled feet, I make my way to the toilet. Sitting on the loo, the room is actually starting to spin a little. I know that I'm slowly succumbing to the alcohol that pleasantly roams throughout my body, because I am feeling nicely numb. My intoxicated self is also feeling rather frisky, yearning for Jonny more than it usually does. I decide to send him a sexy text.

I'm thinking of you. . . . feeling naughty!

Jessica xx

After sitting there for a few more minutes, trying to muster enough strength to stand, my phone comes to life with a message from my very gorgeous fiancé.

Are you drunk?

Jonny xxxx

I find myself stupidly nodding at my screen. A slow and lazy kind of a nod, because any quick movement would make me feel like my head is about to bloody fall off. With deep concentration, the tip of my tongue suddenly sticks out, resting on my top lip as I carefully type back in my reply.

Yup!

Jessica x

Feeling terribly wicked, I decide to send him a picture. In the most uncouth of ways, I lift up my lovely dress to reveal my sassy black stockings and suspenders. Propping myself up against the toilet cubicle so that I don't disgracefully fall, I quickly take a photo of them to naughtily send his way.

And I'm wearing these!

Jessica x

In a drunk and disorderly fashion, I pull my dress back down in order to go and wash my hands. As the warm water revives my slightly anaesthetised hands, I lift up my heavy head to look at my hazy reflection. It has to be said; I'm positively glowing. Okay, it may just be an alcohol-induced glow, but it's a radiant glow nonetheless.

As I'm checking my eye make-up, I receive another reply from Jonny.

Do you honestly think that you can send me a pic like that and get away with it?

Your sulking fiancé x

With a large smile and a larger dose of concentration, I slowly tap in my drunken response.

Aww, poor baby! No lap dance and unable to get your hands on my saucy underwear . . . whatever will you do?

Jessica xx

Jonny is keen to answer my teasing text.

I'm wracking up IOU's!

Now get back to the party, I'll text you later.

Jonny xxx

Thinking that my smile couldn't possibly get any bigger, it satisfyingly does. Knowing that I have undoubtedly got Jonny all hot under his celebrity collar, I glance at my reflection one last time before leaving the room with a sassy swagger.

As I come out of the toilet and step out into the small hallway, I see a smiling Mason patiently waiting for me. With genuine concern, he warmly smiles. "Are you feeling okay?"

Feeling a little embarrassed, I answer honestly. "A teensy bit drunk, but I'm good thanks."

"That's good to hear." He pauses, smiling again. "Have you enjoyed your evening?" he asks, stepping slightly nearer to me.

As pissed as I am, I'm aware that I need to distance myself from Mason. Taking a less than obvious sidestep, I politely reply. "I certainly have, we all have." My eyes look over his shoulder, at the dining room that is hidden from our view by the shadowed corner of the hallway, the same dining room that has Lydia and Katie waiting inside for me.

"I'm pleased," he half-heartedly replies, looking like he wants to say something else to me.

Feeling all the more awkward, I decide on a swift exit. "Anyway, I'd best get back. God only knows what mischief Lydia will get into if she's left for too long," I say with a gentle shrug to my shoulders.

Although Mason in no way tries to physically prevent me from leaving, he is obviously still intent on continuing our conversation. "She's quite a lady, isn't she?" he adds with a question.

A small smirk pulls up on my mouth. "You have no idea," I tell him, unable to not smile about Lydia.

He edges a little closer. Not suffocatingly close, just close. "As are you, Jessica," he quietly declares. Shit and shit again!

With nervous stuttering, I awkwardly respond. "I . . . um . . . I really must go." I try to keep my eyes only on his face, too embarrassed to look any lower.

Picking up on my reluctance to look anywhere else, it is now Mason's turn to look a little embarrassed. "I'm so sorry. I'm not usually so forward when I'm clearly so underdressed." He looks down at himself, his honesty so very endearing.

As lovely as Mason is, I need to put the poor guy out of his half-naked misery. "You should know, I'm engaged," I warmly but bluntly tell him.

He looks taken aback, desperately scanning my ring finger and looking even more confused when there's not a ring there. "Oh . . . I'm sorry. I didn't notice a ring," he apologises, wringing his strong hands with anxiety.

I weakly laugh, feeling slightly sorry for him. "No need to apologise. We just haven't gone official yet." I try to explain the absence of a ring on my finger.

With robust relief, he smiles with a carefree shrug of his solid shoulders. "Well, you can't blame a guy for trying. I'm really sorry if I've offended you in any way."

Feeling like the air surrounding us is now much lighter, I return his relaxed smile. "Don't be silly. I'm really flattered."

Mason is now anxious to return to the dining room, knowing that any attempt with me is now futile. "Well, I'd better get back, as well . . . enjoy the rest of your evening." He politely turns to leave; causing me to nervously look down at the carpeted floor and not allowing my eyes to go anywhere near his exposed ass.

"I will . . . and Mason," I call after him, still refusing to look until I've given him enough time to turn back around.

He stops, waiting for me to bring my gaze to him. "Yes?" he asks, looking surprised.

Feeling more comfortable in his presence, now that he knows that I'm not single, I grin across in his direction. "Sometime soon, Mason, a lucky lady will jump at the chance of a date with you, clothes on or off." My grin turns into a full on smile, one that he gladly accepts.

"Thanks, Jessica."

I let him go on ahead, only returning to the dining room when I see him disappear around the corner. Walking towards our table, Lydia greets me with a less than glamorous smile as she hands me my cocktail. "You were a while, darling?" Her slur seems to have become much more noticeable, since I've been to the toilet.

"I was chatting to Mason," I nonchalantly say, taking a very long sip of my Anal Probe because I know exactly what will come next from my very drunk friend.

"Were you now?" So damn predictable, Lydia Mason! Her questioning pencilled brow sits high; just as the questioning and playful lilt to her voice is annoyingly high too.

With pursed lips, I roll my eyes at her. "Don't look at me like that," I say, trying to ignore her nagging stare.

"He's asked you out, hasn't he?"

Katie gasps, joining in with the slurring questions. "Did he, Jessica?"

I shake my head, still a gentle shake because the alcohol is still kicking my ass. "Nope, I didn't let him get that far," I proudly tell them. They both look completely flummoxed now, so I calmly try to explain. "He was going to ask I think, but I told him that I was involved with someone before it all got too embarrassing."

Lydia sits back in her seat, looking smug. "I knew it! He's been eyeing you up all night long."

I bring my drink to my lips again, liking how it tastes. "He's really sweet, actually. I just told him straight."

Lydia now picks up her glass, sucking the last of her drink through her very worn out willy straw. "Poor bloody bastard. He probably has no clue whatsoever that the rival for your affection is Jonny Riley." She now giggles, tickled by the very idea. Her giggling is so animated, that she nearly slides off her chair. She tries to sit straight, but seems unable to do so. In the end she rolls her shoulders forwards, slumping her upper body onto the table. "Listen, ladies. I'm starting to feel a tad worse for wear. So I think I'm going to head back to my room, if you don't mind?" she wearily slurs with her right cheek being squished against her forearm.

Katie is enthusiastically nodding, obviously ready to leave as well as she's busily tidying away all of the hen party things. "I've been flagging for about an hour now, trying to keep up with you cougars." She laughs, quickly piling more things into the now battered looking gift bag.

I defensively cross my arms with a shocked expression. "I can't believe that you've just called me a cougar, when I've only just turned down a nearly naked Adonis?" I playfully argue.

"Apologies, Jessica, that is very true. We both know that there's really only one cougar around here." Katie's eyes rest on a tired and lethargic Lydia.

Lydia perks up just long enough to throw us back a quick and sarcastic answer. "This is a form of bullying you know, ladies? I have behaved myself this evening. Not once did I give in to the temptation of asking for a cocktail, omitting the tail part," she announces with drunken pride, trying to stand with every ounce of grace that she can safely muster.

Unfortunately for Lydia, it isn't working. I quickly wrap my own very drunk arms around her, for fear that she's going to face plant the floor at any moment. "Okay, let's get going." I struggle to get Lydia stable on her ridiculously high heels, so Katie quickly supports her from the other side.

As we cautiously walk, precariously holding onto Lydia so that she has a full set of pearly white teeth to smile with on her wedding day, we hear Richard behind us. "Do you need a hand?" he asks, looking sweetly concerned.

"No, it's fine. Now she's up, we've got her," I breathlessly reply; feeling a little embarrassed.

Kurt and Mason soon join us, looking like they both want to help as well. "Are you sure you can both manage?" Richard kindly asks.

"We'll be fine, honestly." I try to reassure him.

"We hope you've all had a great time?" Kurt asks.

Lydia's hands drunkenly swing around by their wrists, as she tries to lift her intoxicated head. "I've had a fabulous time, Kurt," she lisps, before assuming the slumped head position again.

Taking that as our cue to leave, I politely smile at Richard, Kurt, and Mason. "Thank you so much. We've all had a great time."

A trio of broad, masculine smiles soon greet me. "No problem, Jessica. We're glad that you've enjoyed yourselves," Mason replies for them all, saving his warm grin for only me.

We quickly say our goodbyes, with only one failed attempt by Lydia to pinch the very pert bum of Richard on the way out. All in all, I'd say this hen party was a drunken success.