When I proposed to my wife a few years ago, the months that followed were a whirlwind of wedding-related activities.
Most of it sucked. I didn’t give a shit what we served for dinner or which song we picked for our wedding dance. I cared far less what flowers we’d choose or what color the cake frosting would be. The whole thing grew into this giant monster that neither of us wanted when we had imagined getting married, but there didn’t seem to be a way to tone it down once it had started.
Since we were asking everyone to travel for the wedding, we eventually decided not to do separate bachelor and bachelorette parties so that everyone didn’t have to travel twice. Neither of us was disappointed not to have the classic Vegas-style “last night of freedom” complete with too many drinks and lap dances, but we did feel like we should be doing something special to mark the occasion that was just for us.
We toiled over what we could do, but it usually devolved from a civilized discussion into dirty talk to foreplay and eventually sex. This idea of what we would do to celebrate instead of having parties lit a fire in our sex life. It made it okay to throw anything on the table as a fantasy because we were both doing it, and there was an air of fiction to it all. Surely, we wouldn’t ever actually try any of it… would we?
On one such evening, we started tossing ideas around at the kitchen table after dinner.
“We could get tattoos,” I suggested with an eyebrow waggle.
“Tacky,” she laughed, knowing I wasn’t serious.
“We could finally try anal,” I said, this time only partially teasing.
“Let’s do it!” she said enthusiastically.
“Seriously?”
“Totally. If you want to take it in the ass, I’m down to try it. We could even go strap-on shopping together!”
I grinned and rolled my eyes. She knew that’s not what I meant, just like I knew she had no interest in trying anal.
“What if we did it in public?” she suggested.
She seemed serious, so I contemplated my answer. This was one that sounded really hot to talk about, but I wasn’t interested in trying it in real life. That didn’t mean we couldn’t dirty-talk our way through the fantasy, though.
“Where in public would I fuck you? Maybe the pool?” I asked.
“The hot tub at the pool? We could be doing anything and people might suspect, but they won’t know for sure. You could push my bottom to the side and fuck me right there in the water where anyone could see.”
We started kissing at the table, sliding our hands over each other’s bodies.
I murmured in her ear, “Or it doesn’t have to be in front of a whole crowd. We could just involve one other person… try a threesome to celebrate us becoming a twosome?”
From the naughty glint in her eyes, I could tell I had hit on a real fantasy. I slid my hand into her shorts under her panties, exploring with my fingers until I found the spot that made her gasp.
She sounded breathless when she said, “But babe, I feel so bad that you’re missing out on the whole stripper bachelor party thing. What if I was the stripper for you?”
“You mean for me and a friend? A bachelor party has to have a friend.”
She smirked.
“Okay, I could be the stripper for you and… maybe Jason?”
“Her huge ass jiggled as I spread her cheeks and thrusted into her.”
“Jason, huh? I could talk to him, see if he’s interested. Not what I expected you to say, but I could get behind that.”
“For now, you should get behind me,” she moaned, getting wetter on my fingers as I kept rubbing her pussy and clit.
I bent her over the bench at the kitchen table and pulled her shorts down. Her huge ass jiggled as I spread her cheeks and thrusted into her.
As I plunged balls-deep into my fiancée, it seemed like we finally had a plan. But did this mean she was just going to strip for us? Or would we both get to fuck her? Or maybe I would fuck her while he watched?
We were young and had never experimented before, so we didn’t work through all the ground rules before the big night. We talked about STDs and birth control, but I didn’t want to kill the mood by trying to plan it all ahead of time. She didn’t bring it up, either, so I figured we were on the same page and would work it out that night.
When the night of my “bachelor party” finally arrived, Jason and I sat in the living room drinking beers while Lauren finished getting ready upstairs. I had no idea what she was going to wear or what she was going to do when she came down. I thought if we followed her lead, it would all be fine. I didn’t realize that once you’re incredibly turned-on, those lines could get a little more flexible than they might have been with a clear head. The doorbell rang, and I jumped up to answer it.
This could get awkward if someone had come over unexpectedly.
I opened the door and was delighted to find my fiancée standing there in a trench coat.
“Is someone not feeling well?” she asked innocently. “I’m a house-call nurse and was sent here to check someone out.”
She gave me a devilish smile as she pulled the sides of her coat open to reveal a naughty nurse costume underneath, along with sky-high platform heels.
“Come on in and check us out for yourselves,” I said, copping a feel of her ass as she passed me and strode confidently into the living room where Jason was still seated.
I had expected her to be nervous or timid at first, but she seemed to be in her element and ready to go. It was a side of her I had never seen before, and I liked it. Once again I thought, I’m so fucking lucky to be marrying this woman.
I followed her into the living room, where she pushed me down onto the couch next to Jason.
She pulled out her phone and did something that made the speakers start to play sultry music, then she tossed it onto the end table and began to sway and move. When the music changed to a faster beat, she started twisting her hips in time to the heavy beat and running her hands along her body.
Lauren dropped to the floor and began humping and thrusting and gyrating, her curves bouncing deliciously. She crawled toward us and slithered onto Jason’s lap, grinding against him and pressing her breasts toward his face. I could tell he wanted to grab them, but he resisted like a gentleman, waiting to be invited before touching. Picking him as our guest star had been a good choice.
She gave him an impressive lap dance before sliding over to me and repeating the performance. We were both rock-hard by the end of the first song.
“I got on the ground in front of her and licked her cunt until she was thrusting at empty air.”
When the next one started, she stood back up in the center of the room and kept dancing but slowly unzipped the front of her little white nurse dress. Once it was completely unzipped, she let it drop to the floor. She was now wearing a teeny white thong and a little bra made up of tiny white triangles that barely contained her ample breasts.
She continued dancing, almost like she was working up the nerve to take off the rest of her outfit. Then she suddenly yanked off her bra and panties. My wife-to-be was now standing in front of me naked and my best friend was sitting next to me on the couch lusting after her.
I was glad I wasn’t jealous so far. It was hot knowing that she could choose to share parts of herself with him, but she would be mine forever.
The next few minutes were a blur of kissing and touching and tongues. She was back on Jason’s lap with her back to him, so I draped her legs over his to spread them open. I got on the ground in front of her and licked her cunt until she was thrusting at empty air. I flicked my tongue across her clit, shoving my fingers into her and making her squirt all over my tongue.
Jason reached around and took over rubbing her clit, while I took off my pants and underwear. She spread her legs even wider when she saw what I was doing, letting me nudge the head of my dick inside her. She reached around behind her and I assumed she was stroking Jason’s cock from the way he groaned.
I thrust all the way in then fucked her in slow, deep strokes. I felt a moment of awkwardness at how close I was to Jason and how I could feel his hand rubbing her clit when I pressed all the way forward.
It was such a novel, taboo feeling that I didn’t last long, coming as she reached her fourth orgasm.
I cleaned her up a little, but Jason didn’t seem worried about taking sloppy seconds. We didn’t even bother turning her around. Instead, she just lifted up and slid back onto his waiting cock. He plunged inside her, and just like that, I was watching another dude fuck my fiancée. I sat back and watched at first, then leaned forward and licked her clit some more. She was mindlessly thrusting against him, showing no sign of insecurity or hesitation.
Jason managed to hold on long enough for her to come again, and then he did the same, jerking as he finished inside her. Watching my friend pull out of my deeply satisfied wife-to-be was a hell of a way to celebrate our forthcoming nuptials.