If there’s one rule I try to follow in this life it’s this:


Bros before Hoes


I’ve put in the time and effort to get my life to a point where I would never feel the need to fuck the girlfriend of one of my friends, because I have other and often times better options. I always despised the men who did give in and toss a friendship out the window just so they could bang some girl. These types of men would only pose as your loyal comrades. They would be friendly to you at a social gathering but twice as friendly to your girlfriend while you’re in the other room. You’d be at a party and walk up and see him macking on your girl, hoping to plant a seed should the two of you break up in the near future. These men are weak and desperate, not having the power to choose bros over hoes because they have not put in the work to live a life of abundance. They don’t have the power to brush off pussy from time to time, even at the cost of solid male friendship.


So when Amber, a girl that my friend Nick had been chasing after, gave me opportunity after opportunity to take her home, I always brushed her off because I didn’t want to upset him. Actually, Nick was really more of an acquaintance than a friend. In 4 years of undergrad, we never once called or texted each other to hang out. We were just part of the same social circle and talked to each other simply because we found ourselves in the same room at the same time. He was actually kind of a drunken shithead in our college days and I didn’t much care for him.


For years, I noticed that Nick took this girl Amber with him to any function that required a date. I naturally assumed he was banging her and that they were somewhat of an item.


Graduation had come and gone and one of our mutual friends was getting married at the ripe age of 24. Eating your hand would be a better life choice but that’s a topic for another day.


Saturday arrived and it was time to celebrate the death of freedom for my 24 year old friend. I found myself in a small Tennessee city tucked away at the foot of the Appalachian Mountains. I scanned the church sanctuary full of people I attended university with.


Towards the front was my ex-girlfriend. We had broken up about 6 months prior. She was looking damn good and I considered an attempt to spark things back up for a night. Sitting next to her was my somewhat of a friend and fraternity brother trying his best to put the moves on her. He was actually a good looking guy but had the Game of a clueless 15 year old. Given his reputation as a bit of a goofball, I knew that there were too many people in the room who would pass judgement on my ex if she hooked up with him. His aesthetics were no match for the power of reputation, lack of Game, and judgement of peers within the tribal setting of a social circle. Maybe on spring break he’d have a shot but he didn’t have a chance here. I rolled my eyes at the display of his attempt.


I looked up at the altar and saw my friend the groom nervously awaiting his bride. There were 3 men in attendance at the wedding who had fucked his soon-to-be wife back in college, myself and Nick included. The groom was aware and evidently not deterred by it. I even recall the night when the groom first fucked her. He, Nick, and myself actually high fived each other and celebrated our eskimo brother status. But as their relationship turned serious, we halted our typical objectifying frat boy remarks about the love of his life. Out of decency, we began to only make the remarks when he was not present.


I’ve never brought a date to a wedding unless I happened to be in a relationship at the time and social norm obligated me to. I’ve always had more fun at weddings picking off lonely singles as opposed to catering to a date.


Nick didn’t take the same approach. I looked to my left and saw him and Amber sitting next to each other.


“Ah of course.” I thought to myself. They had gone together to every date night and formal event in college, so it was no surprise they attended the wedding together.


The ceremony went on and the groom kissed the lips of his bride, the same lips wrapped around my cock one drunken night in college 3 years before. They walked down the aisle together holding hands while the church organ screeched out the typical wedding tunes.


It was now time for the only reason people attend weddings – the reception. The alcohol began to flow from a fully stocked open bar.


After catching up with my ex for 30 minutes or so, I was buzzed enough to proposition her to dance with me. I was politely shot down. In hindsight, I realize this didn’t have much chance of success as we were surrounded by our entire college social circle, including her brother. Too much unwanted attention would be on her if she had been contentiously spun about by her ex-boyfriend in front of all those people. I was no match for the judgement of peers.


“Well it was nice catching up with you.”


I gave her a smile and left her to find another option.


I was mildly drunk and the basic music that white people love dancing to was playing (think Dave Matthews, Wagon Wheel, etc.) The desire to twirl a bitch would not go unsatisfied.


I spied Amber off in the corner and her gaze caught my own. Nick was out of sight.


Long ago before Nick had latched onto her for the last 2 years, Amber and I shared a kiss one drunken night in a bar. We texted a decent bit after that and always made a point to find each other at parties.


This was back when I was young in the Game. She was an 18 year old freshman discovering the college sorority lifestyle. I was a 21 year old senior recently exposed to the teachings of Mystery and the memoirs of Neil Strauss.


I ended up in a relationship with another girl before I could seal the deal with Amber. Nick swooped in around the same time.


Now it was 2 and half years later but the sexual tension between Amber and myself remained.


After some light banter, I grabbed her hand and began to lift it above her head to spin her around.


She complied. We danced.


After a few songs, I suggested a smoke break.


If I were to pick only one vice that I could liberally engage in with no consequence to my health, it would be smoking. So much game can be spit over the course of an intimate smoke in a quieter space away from the party.


But my lungs refuse to empathize with my Game initiatives. I’ve since had to give up the habit only to occasionally light up on special occasions like traveling and Saturday nights.


As we smoked our cancer sticks away from the loud music, Amber and I had a good chat with no distractions. I knew I had likely already pissed off Nick by dancing with his date and then swooping her off to have a cigarette with her. I decided I should wrap this up and head back to the wedding reception.


That’s when she dropped it on me.


“We’ve never even so much as kissed.”


She of course was referring to her date and my friend Nick. I continued rationalizing reasons to put him in the ‘more of an acquaintance’ category.


“Nick, you poor bastard.” I thought to myself.


I asked Amber if she was serious and she swore up and down it was true. I thought there may have been a chance she was lying to get me to overcome my loyalty to Nick, but it didn’t seem all that likely.


It made sense. Nick was not a guy known for closing.


Here was a man who had spent two years of life pursuing this girl. And he was left entirely empty handed.


I’m sorry Nick. I had to do it.


After Amber revealed this cringe-worthy bit of information to me, I proceeded as I normally would have. I felt no obligation to not fuck her.

If Nick had a real relationship with the girl, I would have shown restraint. Even though our friendship was questionable, I still wouldn’t have done that to him.

But a man cannot stake claim on a woman simply because he has two years of unrequited feelings. I’ve wanted to bang Kylie Jenner for awhile now but you don’t see me picking fights with Tyga because he beat me to it.


I convinced Amber to walk back to the hotel where we were all staying because I was tired of the noisy live band and had some awesome wine she should try.


Five minutes later, we’re in a dark alley and I’ve got my hand up her dress with two fingers inside her pussy as we passionately make out under the light of the Tennessee moon.


She confessed her virginity to me and said she had only recently given her first blowjob to another guy in our social circle – it wasn’t Nick.


We stumbled into my hotel room. I was sharing the room with another guy and his girlfriend who were also attending the wedding. There were two queen beds.


In a moment of poor judgement, I toss Amber onto my friend’s bed because my own bed had clothes and my suitcase on it and I didn’t feel like taking a second to move it. I had other things on my mind.


She began the second blowjob of her young life. She was good and I could have easily came after a few minutes but I wanted that virginity. And she was ready to give it to me.


I got on top and gently stabbed her with my dick. I got in a couple light thrusts, the shaft making it halfway inside when suddenly the friend I was rooming with and his girlfriend burst into the room, hoping for some playtime of their own.


I glanced over my shoulder, my bare ass completely exposed, as my friend and his lady looked on in horror at what was taking place in their bed.


Under normal circumstances, my friend wouldn’t have been overly upset with me. But he and his girlfriend had been fighting and on the verge of breaking up for months. It seemed that they had made some progress in their relationship that night and were about to have sex. Of course, the taking of a girl’s virginity in their bed ruined what was to be a special moment for them.


Amber left, I apologized to my friend, and he laughed it off not long after. But not before telling a few people what had happened. The news made it back to most people at the wedding. All of my friends. Nick. Even my ex-girlfriend.


I woke up the next morning to a text from my ex.


“Hope you had fun with Amber last night”


After some emotional chastisement from her, the whole thing made my ex realize she wasn’t over me and still wanted me. I was essentially being rewarded for my bad behavior that hurt her. But I wasn’t going down that road.


I laid in the hotel bed that morning feeling like I had pissed off the entire city with the previous night’s debauchery. Even the glare from the sun beating through the window seemed extra harsh and judgmental. But that could have just been my hangover.


I got a text from another friend staying in a room down the hall.


“Was your night really that bad you smoked a cigarette in our room?”


It evidently was.


Another text came in, this one from the groom.



But he apparently was amused by what had transpired. At least someone found this all entertaining.


If anything, a lesson can be learned. The dating and waiting approach does not work.


I felt bad for what Nick must have gone through as a result of my actions. Maybe I’m just rationalizing my own selfishness here but I believe he learned from it. It was his own error that caused his pain. She was hooking up with other guys and he was left picking up the tab. He saw that there is no reward for taking the cautious nice guy approach – only punishment in the form of cuckoldry. It’s up to him what he wants to do with that information.


I showered, got my shit together, grabbed a bagel from the hotel lobby, and got the fuck out of Dodge.


I haven’t been invited to any other weddings in awhile.


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