Have you ever wondered if one of your girlfriends would fuck your husband if she had the opportunity? And not like, fuck his brains out twenty years from now while your lifeless ashes sit in an urn on the living room mantel kind of way, more like accidentally fall on his penis after too much wine in a hot tub while you’re asleep on a bench next to them type scenario.
As women, you know there are chicks you can trust and chicks you can’t. For example, I’m always wary of girls who don’t have other female friends. When a woman tells me she only gets along with guys, I instantly interpret that to mean “home wrecker.” There’s like this certain breed out there that no matter how hard they try, will always put male approval before anything else in their lives.
I always considered my friend Nikki to be one of these women.
Nikki’s five foot eight with big blue eyes and tits that could save you in a car accident.
She’s the type of girl who dates two brothers at once then doesn’t understand why she’s in trouble when they find out about each other. She’s stolen girls’ boyfriends, derailed engagements and even inspired the occasional divorce. I don’t think Nikki means to be such a femme fatale. I think her psychology just prevents her from making responsible choices.
I hang out with Nikki because, on the flip side, she’s really fucking fun! She has a wicked sense of humor and we have a history that dates back nearly two decades. Our taste in men also happens to be diametrically opposed. While Nikki prefers men hot enough to fuck Herb Ritts, I tend to only like guys who look like rabbis.
The night before my first date with my husband, Jason, Nikki randomly spotted him out at a club.
“Hey, that American Pie guy you are supposed to go out with just walked into Le Deux,” she texted.
“Is he cute?” I replied.
“In like a Jewish way,” she answered.
He just isn’t her type. Ergo, I’ve always felt relatively safe with Nikki. That was until years later when Jason and I were happily married and his sister, Chiara came to town.
“Are you fucking serious with that one?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I mean I wouldn’t leave a girl like that alone in a room with my dog’s dick!” she scoffed.
This got me thinking. Maybe I was giving Nikki too much credit. She was after all a sex magnet. How did I know what kind of respect she had for me when I wasn’t around? Maybe, after enough carb-ridden margaritas, ANY cock could become her Fundip spoon! I was now officially paranoid and there was really only one way to get peace.
I approached my husband about a possible sting operation. My request was simple: Come on to Nikki. We already had plans to go out to dinner that night with a group of friends. I suggested Jason drive while Chiara and I hide in the backseat. Jason would tell Nikki we were meeting them at the restaurant and then, on the ride over, try his damndest to make her betray me. Everything that happened henceforth would be held against Nikki in a court of law.
Quite possibly this one.
“Are you fucking nuts?” my husband asked.
He was clearly not into my plan and needed some convincing or rather, some passive aggressive manipulating of his most deep-seated insecurities.
“You’re right. Who am I kidding?” I said. “Nikki would never be attracted to you. She likes models. You’re not her type. Waaay too swarthy…”
“You don’t think I could get her? I modeled as a child and before I met you, I used to fuck the hottest chicks!” he balked.
“Yeah, chicks who thought you were Josh Radnor,” I said.
“Fuck you!” he shot back. “It’s my adorable personality that attracts them. Women expect me to be this dorky guy, but once I start talking, they realize how cool I am and instantly fall in love with me. You did!”
“That’s because I only like dorks!” I went on.
“Trust me, I can get any chick I want, including Nikki!” he insisted.
Just as I planned, Jason took the bait and agreed to do my bidding.
Two blocks before reaching Nikki’s house, Chiara and I jumped in the back seat of his car and threw jackets over our bodies. Nikki was already waiting outside her apartment when we pulled up. Jason told her we were already at the restaurant and, thinking nothing of it, Nikki got in the car. We then turned down a residential street and slowed down to about 10mph.
“You think I’m ugly don’t you?” Jason whispered almost wounded.
It took everything in me to keep from laughing. Chiara kicked me to shut up as he continued.
“It’s cool. I’m obviously not your type. I get it.” he said, almost cavalier.
Nikki, beyond uncomfortable, tried to lighten things up.
“What? No! You’re cute!” she assured him.
At this point, I was chewing holes in the insides of my cheeks to keep me from exploding. Jason knew he was selling it and decided to kick things into high gear.
“Can you keep a secret?”
“Yeaaah?” Nikki said, scared.
“Why don’t you give me a blowjob?” he demanded, straight faced.
Poor Nikki was drowning in the deep end with this professional liar. I seriously think this performance was one of the best of my husband’s career- It was right up there with his 1991 performance in the acclaimed film, The Boy Who Cried Bitch.
Save your Googling. It’s real.
I think we can all agree he’s never going to top that, but this was like, super close. Chiara, guilt ridden, elbowed me to sit up and reveal myself. Jason, still driving, continued to badger Nikki.
“Show me one of your tits and I’ll just masturbate on it really quick” he suggested.
That’s when Nikki cracked and threw herself from the car.
No seriously, Nikki literally fucking threw herself out of the moving car onto a grassy mound on the side of the road. We weren’t moving fast but there was still no way, in those “Come Fuck Me” Jessica Simpson pumps, she was landing on her feet.
“Jesus Christ!” Jason exclaimed as he slammed his brakes.
Chiara and I threw back our jackets only to see the passenger side door swinging in the wind. Making an illegal U-turn we went back to retrieve Nikki. When we approached, she looked shocked. Her ankle was sprained which made it totally hard for her to appreciate the humor in our little test. I tried to comfort her by letting her know she’d scored major friend points by proving she’d sooner throw herself from a moving vehicle than cheat with my husband.
“You risked your life for our friendship!” I exclaimed in what I thought would be our total chicks before dicks moment.
Nikki then corrected me by saying, “It’s not that. I already told you, idiots! I just don’t find Jason hot.”
Half joking half serious, I guess Nikki had every right to talk shit. It was kind of a fucked up thing to do. Though I have to admit, we never expected our little prank to land us in Cedar’s emergency room. Chiara called and tried to explain what happened to the other dinner guests but I think all they really took away was that Jason asked Nikki for a blowjob so she tried to kill herself. Fair enough.
Nikki assured me payback would be a bitch and to not get too comfortable. But to be honest, I felt more comfortable with Nikki than ever. What I really took away from that evening besides the fact that my husband could play an excellent rapist was that Nikki really WAS a good friend, and for maybe the first time ever, I thought her choices made sense.