The Bachelorette

Some friends! 

Ashley expected some silliness for her bachelorette party--maybe some silly gifts like glow-in-the-dark condoms. Or condoms blown up to serve as balloons. Lingereie was a traditional bachelorette gift. Maybe her friends would give her a thong, or even a pair of crotchless panties. Maybe they'd play a silly game like "Pin the tail on the donkey" but instead of a donkey, a cardboard cut out of a hot man and instead of a tail... well, you get the idea.

She'd even prepared herself for the silliness (and embarrassment) of a male stripper. Ashley had grown up with Miranda, her maid of honor. They'd been college roommates freshman year. Sophomore year, Miranda joined the Kappa sorority, and turned into quite the party girl, and all through college they were still friends, but just didn't overlap much in the same social circles. Still, after graduation, and back in their hometown, she couldn't imagine Miranda not being in her bridal party, and in fact, Miranda volunteered to be her Maid of Honor, and take care of all the planning. There was nothing Miranda loved to do more than plan a party. How could Ashley say no?

The evening started out about as she expected it. Some gag gifts like a tiara and fake VIP pass that said Slut, and entitled the bride-to-be to one last night of total debauchery and a "pass" to sleep with anyone before the lifelong commitment of monogamy. There was champagne, and shots, and a limo that took them to a club for dancing. 

The first dares were funny, silly, and by then she was so drunk, she went along. Miranda dared Ashely to slip off her panties and hand them to the cutest guy in the room. Embarassed and red-faced Ashley did. She turned to the first guy she could find, thrust her panties at him and said, "I'm sorry, I'm getting married and my friend made me do this." The guy, her age and not bad looking, smiled. He was cool and took her panties and said, no worries, he totally understood the whole bachelorette thing. They chatted for a bit, but the music was so loud, she eventually thanked the guy and headed back to her friends. 

More shots and more dancing. She didn't really realize that she'd been dancing without underwear, but when she did, it suddenly felt very naughty, and she smiled. She knew Miranda was just trying to get her to step out of her comfort zone and just be more open to new experiences.

Next, they were back in the limo and Miranda dared Ashely to stand up through the sunroof and wave to passing cars. Ashely stood up and as the limo slowly cruised the downtown street, she waved and shooted "whoo-hoo!" to the people she passed, mostly young couples and groups going to bars and clubs. They'd usually look up and seeing the limo, and a drunk Ashley wearing a tiara and waving, they'd wave back, and yell, "party!"  Just then, someone (probably Miranda) yanked down Ashely's dress. She was now topless, standing in the sunroof. Her bare breasts exposed to the cool city air, and all the eyes of the public. Her first reaction was to sit down quickly in embarrassment, but she realized that she'd never be in this place at this time ever again. So what if some random people saw her boobs. Maybe they were a little small, but they were cute. She wasn't ashamed of her body. And what the hell--it was her night, and her pass to break the rules. Not like a cop is going to pull over a hired limo with four drunk ladies celebrating a bachelorette party.

Next, they were in a club packed with screaming drunk women and male strippers. Ashley was quickly escorted to a VIP room that Miranda had reserved. There, they were treated to more shots, and their own private stripper. His attention turned to Ashely as he began to do his show. Ashely had dated guys in high school and college--some tall, some short, some smart, and some outdoorsy types, but she had never  dated, or even considered, the real super-jocks of school. They just seemed in a different world, and only dated sorority girls like Miranda.  And, Ashley assumed, couldn't hold a conversation beyond, "whatsup?"

But she didn't need to talk to this guy. She didn't care what his name was or his major in school. Here was a perfect specimen of the male body in a purely physical sense. He was tall and cut out of solid muscle and as he pulled out his cock, apparently longer and thicker than any man she'd ever seen.

As he was dancing, he pulled out a can of whipped creme and squirted a bit on his bicep. He then flexed and held his arm to Ashely's face to lick it off. Miranda and the others were cheering her on, and so Ashely licked it off. This lead him to squirt a little on his hard chest, and have her lick it off again. And then on his 6-pack abs. And then, on his long, thick cock. By now, Ashely had already licked his skin and she was both curious and a little turned on by the thought of feeling her lips on his manly cock.

Tentitively she leaned forward and licked. Slightly loosing her balance she licked forward. She regained herself, and laughed, and everyone cheered, and her face was still in the strippers crotch, and as he gyrated to the pulse of the music, he was growing larger and larger and harder, and the girls were chanting "suck it! suck it! suck it!"

Instinct or habit took over. With a hard cock, her lips wrapped around it. And she began to bob up and down on it, though she could hardly fit it in her mouth. It was so big and hard and she was totally buzzed and really turned on. The next thing she knew she was on her back, legs up and the giant cock was pushing inside her. She was in too much pleasure to care. She was filled and stretched and the cock was going in and out in a strong rhythmic beat. She had no sense of time or place or even her friends; everything was centered on the pleasure of being penetrated. 

She had no idea of how long it had been and no clear memory of exactly what happened. Miranda had spared no expense in renting the VIP room and hiring the stripper to give her the "full package." The final act, apparently, to steal the evening of debauchery and to mark the official transition between sungle slut and chaste wife, was a baptism of cum.

Ashley doesn't really remember it, but the pictures show, that after being fucked silly by the stripper, she was made to kneel before him. Her friends cheered her on and even held her head up awaiting his cum, and commanding her to keep her tongue stuck out to receive her "bridal shower" in hot sticky semen. 

The final picture, taken by the stripper, shows the bride and her bridal party. The bride's maids are all still dressed, while Ashley is naked, with a glob of cum dripping from her chin and coated her bare breasts. She smiles, as if still in amazement that she's just had sex with a total stranger, in front of her best friends. It's an image she'll never show her husband, and has no place in her new married life, but marks the last night when she was single, and abandoned all boundaries. It was a night to live fully in the moment with no reservations and no pre-concieved ideas of who she had to be to please anyone but herself. And going into marriage, she feels confident, because she now feels like she hasn't missed out. 

She's not going back to the club or going to cheat on her husband. But she keeps the pictures, and every couple years, when she's alone and in a certain mood, she'll pull them out and relive the memory.