Couples Story Group Sex

Unexpected Invitation

It’s probably its own chapter in Guy Code: No Girls at a Bachelor Party. Honesty, it probably doesn’t need a chapter; those six words should be explanation enough. A simple rule with a simple reason, but, like many simple rules, periodically someone will try to bend the law, believing their case to be an exception. And as is so often the case when a rule is broken, someone ends up getting hurt.

This simple rule is why it was so unexpected when I received the last minute call inviting me to my friend Kyle’s bachelor party in Las Vegas. Kyle and the best man, Fisher, had become best friends within minutes of meeting as roommates freshman year of college and been inseparable for the eight years since. When I was placed in the room across the hall early first semester after my own roommate situation deteriorated, I quickly became the third member of their team.

I was never particularly popular with any of Kyle or Fisher’s many girlfriends in college, but none of them had lasted very long anyway. I guess to most women, I didn’t register as a “bro,” but rather as a threat whose menacingly perky D cups were too close to “her man.” Kyle and Fisher had never confused that issue with me. As far as those two went, my only knowledge that either was anatomically male had been the awkward introductions to those jealous short-timers. When it was a guy sneaking out of my room in the early morning, somehow the boys always knew about it and demanded gossipy details on whomever it was. At times they seemed less like my “brothers,” but rather “big sisters.”

Now Fisher was married and Kyle was about to tie the knot in September. Fisher called me barely a week before the final send-off with the unpredicted invitation. At first I balked, not wanting to intrude on testosterone-fueled revelry. While I was willing to swill whiskey and buy lap-dances as much as any guy on the list, I didn’t want anyone to feel they had to reign in their rowdy behavior on my account.

Then I reconsidered. “Why shouldn’t I be there?” I’d been friends – and to repeat: just friends – with Kyle for longer than any of the other invitees, save Fisher.

“Ok, I’m in. Thanks for giving me plenty of notice, dork!”

“Well…” The pregnant pause on Fisher’s end gave away what was coming next. “To be honest, Sarah, I tried to talk Kyle out of inviting you. Cindy said in no uncertain terms that she didn’t want you there. Kyle, on the other hand, doesn’t want to have the thing without you. So-”

“So Kyle came up with the idea of not telling his future wife that I was going to his bachelor party? A little early in the marriage for dangerous lies like that, don’t you think?”

“Hey look, Lady, I just work here!” He chuckled, relieved that I understood his predicament. “Anyway, Kyle insists that you be there. Don’t worry about Cindy, I’ll talk to her.” Fisher worked as a corporate arbitrator – we often jokingly referred to his title as “hostage-negotiator” – and if there was anyone who could resolve this, we could count on Fisher. However, another seed of suspicion crept into my mind.



“What did Carol say about my going on the trip?” Another long pause on the other end.

“Carol’s not upset.”

“Uh huh. Is Carol ‘not upset’ because she trusts us, or is she ‘not upset’ because you haven’t told your wife that I’ll be there?” Half my friends from college had gone on to law school, and I’d learned to be wary of their tendency towards cute phrasing to avoid a real answer.

Another pause from Fisher. “Right… You get a flight, I’ll get Carol and Cindy on board.”

“And Lewis’s wife, Patricia. And Bill’s wife. And what abo-”

“Ok! Ok ok, I’ll handle all wives, girlfriends, meter maids, check-out girls, and women any of the other guys might have spoken to recently, and I’ll email you the details of the weekend. We’ve taken care of the hotel; you just get your big butt on a plane next week!”

“It’s a plan, Fisher. Let me find a flight. I’ll see you guys next Friday!”

I lucked out and found a humanely priced flight despite the short notice, and my understanding boss allowed me to take Friday off to visit my “sick aunt.” Fisher emailed me an outline of their plan: the boys were arriving Thursday, and they (or those who were functioning at 10am after their first night in Sin City) would pick me up Friday morning at the airport.

After graduation four years earlier, my group of friends had divided almost evenly between New York and California, so I hadn’t seen some of the guys since college. I was excited to get away for a weekend and see my old friends, even though Fisher’s outline had mysteriously omitted any details regarding the hotel. When I’d asked about cost splitting, he’d only told me it had been taken care of by the group before I joined and that I shouldn’t worry about it.

Fisher’s manifest called for a formal dinner at a steakhouse Friday night followed by a private booth and bottle service at a nightclub so I packed a semi-formal sequined cocktail dress that was short and tight enough to blend in in a club atmosphere. For the rest of the weekend, we would be at our leisure to go to the casinos, shops, shows, or just hang out at the pool. With only the latter in mind, I packed two bikinis along with some casual shorts and polo shirts. I was focused on two things this weekend: celebrating Kyle and relaxing in a deck chair with a drink in my hand.

The plane touched down at McCarran International Airport a few minutes early. The flight had been uneventful, and even though I never sleep on planes, the hours had passed quickly. As we taxied, I could already feel the desert sun rising from the baked tarmac and the heat grew more intense as I ascended the jetway to the gate. Emerging into the terminal, the blast of intense AC shocked my body and rows of goosebumps erupted on my arms. Under my simple blue, v-neck t-shirt and yellow lace bra, my nipples stiffened in the contrasting super-chilled air of the building.

I made my way out of the concourse and past the security gate, where I spotted my greeting party. Six half-drunk goons shouted “McGee!” in botched-unison while holding a crude limousine-driver’s placard bearing the same name. This wasn’t my legal name, but rather was the politer half of a crude nickname adapted from the movie ‘Anchorman’ and bestowed upon me early in college; an homage to my defining physical features. It was wonderful to see the boys, even as I muttered to myself “At least they had the good sense to write THAT half on the sign.” I was quickly enveloped in a writhing mass of large male bodies as none of them was willing to wait their turn for a hug. Even before the cluster had released me from the group-embrace, we had already begun moving through the terminal as a single cacophonic entity, startling the morning travelers.

As we sorted ourselves out and walked toward baggage claim, I did a quick head count. Of course Fisher and Kyle were present, along with Lewis and Coffey, two of their teammates from our college’s football team. The retrieval party had also managed to rouse Bill, a friend of Kyle’s from business school, and George, one of Kyle’s coworkers at the bank. The two absent parties – our classmates, Colin and Lawson – had arrived home at 7am, covered in glitter, expensive liquor, and cheap perfume, and had stayed behind at the hotel to catch a few hours’ sleep.

“So do you guys have, like, a block of rooms or something?” I said as I moved to retrieve my luggage from the conveyor, only to be cut off by Lewis’ large form as he easily slung my bag over his shoulder.

“Not exactly.” Kyle was beaming. “Seriously, it’s a surprise so just wait and see.” He shifted his weight and giggled, still a little unsteady on his feet.

“You guys… took a cab here, right?”

“Not exactly…” Kyle’s giggling increased and Coffey took over explanation duties as he took my arm.

“This way, madam. Our chariot awaits.” Idling outside the terminal in the shimmering July heat sat a long black limousine, complete with uniformed chauffeur.

“Sarah, this is Gerard. He is our best friend, our greatest champion, our most noble hero…” For a big guy, Coffey had always had a hard time sobering up in the morning after a night of hard drinking. Gerard gave a friendly smile and good-natured mock-salute to the group, doffing his cap to me as he opened the door. He took my suitcase from Lewis before shutting us in the climate-controlled compartment.

“Holy crap.” I exclaimed as I settled into the rear seat. Fisher and Kyle squeezed on either side of me, while the others stretched along the remaining benches. Coffey stretched out his lean 6’5″ frame on the cabin floor. The only African-American in the group, as a tech geek who had taken stock in lieu of salary for his first two years with his company, Coffey was by far the wealthiest of our college friends, though his soft-spoken nature and boyish playfulness with his friends would never betray his status. That was the case with all of “my boys” though, as the pack of lawyers and bankers in the back of the limousine more closely resembled a raucous pen of badly behaved puppies. And that was why I loved them.

Gerard climbed into the front seat and maneuvered the long car into traffic, while Bill opened a bottle of champagne and began pouring and passing glasses to those who were willing. Parched from the flight, I thirstily accepted a glass and downed it almost instantly. Bill helpfully handed me a fresh flute.

The limousine made its slow turn onto The Strip, taking the long route at Fisher’s instruction since this was my first visit to Las Vegas. Even in mid-morning, the town was lit up for all the world to see. Paris, Bellagio, Caesar’s, Flamingo, Harrah’s; the casinos were a sight to behold as I fought not to feel like a retiree on a bus trip, marveling at their glamour. The car turned onto the expansive casino property, but didn’t slow at the front entrance.

“Are we not staying here?” I asked in confusion as we passed by the massive hotel and I finished my second glass of champagne.

“Actually, we’re… well, just hold on a minute, McGee. You’ll see.” Kyle seemed extremely pleased with himself as he sucked the last drops from his glass.

The limousine pulled up to a large iron gate, which opened at our approach. A high wall extended on all sides, separating the circle drive from the rest of the resort property. The car stopped before an awning and a porter promptly opened the door to let us out. Bill reached through the limousine’s privacy panel and handed Gerard a folded bill, uttered something to him, then took a business card from the driver. They shared a friendly laughed and Bill followed us out of the car.

The waiting porter, wearing a nametag reading “Kent” tried to take my bag from Lewis as he pulled it from the trunk. “Nah. Thanks man, but I’m fine with her bag. Feels like it’s mostly rocks anyway.” Lewis laughed as he spoke to the young man and handed him a twenty. George gently nudged my back to direct me and we headed towards the door.

Our group entered the ornate building and I was guided down a marble hallway decorated with lavish paintings, gilded mirrors, and baroque furniture. When we arrived at a large set of twin carved wood doors, Fisher pulled out a key card and opened the entry to a room containing overelaborate luxury I hadn’t imagined.

“What… is… this place?” I murmured as I walked into the marble entryway, hallways running to the left and right with an ornate living room directly in front of me.

“We didn’t think we could fit everyone in a suite and none of us wanted to split up, so we discussed it and decided to splurge a little and get a villa for the weekend.” Fisher stated this matter-of-factly, as though he were discussing a decision to super-size a fast food order. “Besides, Lawson and his dad and uncles have lost enough money here that they’ll always throw in comps to welcome back one of those suckers – I mean whales – with open arms.” The group let out a collective laugh as I stood, mouth agape.

“We have… a villa?!” I rushed forward through the living room to the large glass doors, peering into our private yard – fenced off from the world – that contained a small pool and hot tub, a fountain, a patio with a table and chairs, and a putting green. I turned and looked at the indoors, resplendent in gaudy marble, carved wood, and mirrors. Walking from the main room, I entered the den where a massive flat-screen played the sporting news at a low volume while Colin sprawled on the gilded couch. He roused slightly as I entered the room.

“Hey… McGee…” He struggled to get the words out, but gave me a big smile as greeting before rolling to bury his face in the back of the sofa. A noise from behind the bar at the end of the room drew our attention as Lawson commando-crawled around the corner to greet us.

“McGee! Glad you could make it!” Lawson was beaming with the enthusiasm of a man, still miles from sober. Beside me, Fisher nearly fell over laughing at the display.

“Lawson, there are three beds, five couches, and even four deck lounges in this place; why the hell did you decide to sleep on the floor behind the bar?!”

“After we left the casino and then the,” his voice dropped to a whisper as he eyed me with faux-suspicion, “(strip club),” his voice returned to its original volume, “I was getting a ginger ale before heading to bed, and this pile of napkins looked soooooo comfy…” The seven upright members of our party roared and even Colin chuckled into the couch cushion.

Shaking his head, Fisher led me out of the room and down the hallway to an enormous bedroom that held a king sized bed, a long dresser that ran along the near wall below a mounted flat-screen, as well as a desk, several plush chairs, and a large sectional sofa in the corner. On either side of the bed, doors each opened into mammoth bathrooms featuring a bathtub, a glass-walled steam shower, a large marble counter and sink, and a separate door to a water closet.

“This bedroom is where Kyle and I slept last night. Of course, Groomzilla passed out diagonally across the mattress, so I had to fold myself onto the couch. We’re close, but not intimate-spooning-close. There’s another bedroom on the other side with two beds and a couch. That’s where Bill, George, and Coffey all slept. I think Lewis passed out in the living room, although he’s so enamored with that putting green I wouldn’t be surprised if he slept out there. Come on, I’ll show you the yard if you’d like.”

“I would like!” Throughout the indoor tour, I’d been stealing glances at the sunny yard and reflective waters through the large glass doors at the end of each room. We walked through the bedroom and opened the doors, stepping onto a slate patio, steps from the pool which wrapped in a blunted crescent around the hot tub. Turning, we looked down the long yard with a quartet of lounge chairs lining a grass patch, and across from them a table surrounded by chairs. Beyond the dining area lay Lewis’s putting green, strewn with balls and clubs, the flag flapping contentedly in a gentle breeze.

“So we live here now, right?” I gushed to Fisher as I wrapped his burly ribs in a hug. His giant body shook with laughter as he patted my head. Even four years removed from his playing days, I could feel the well-shaped muscles stretched over his large frame. Overhead, the desert sun baked us both and I felt sweat building beneath my t-shirt.

He chuckled quietly as he responded. “It’s gonna be a hell of a weekend.”

From inside, the clinking of catering carts announced the arrival of room service.

“Come on, McGee. Let’s eat.” His eyes twinkled as he turned me with his arm around my shoulders toward the living room as I gently elbowed him in the stomach for continued use of my nickname.

The table was set with a brunch spread, complete with pitchers of mimosas and Bloody Mary. The others were already clamoring around, scooping up huge helpings of bacon and bagels to soak up the previous night’s alcohol. They respectfully cleared a path for me as I approached and took a plate of sandwiches and a mimosa then retreated to safety. The feeding frenzy obscured the boys’ identities – and even their numbers – until I couldn’t decipher what arm was connected to what body. Finally, I got Kyle’s attention amid the mob and indicated to him that I was going to the bedroom to change.

I closed the enormous carved-wood door to the bedroom, then turned and sized myself up in the wall-length mirror across from the bed. My eyes were tired from my early flight and I sighed and took a sip of mimosa. I took a white bikini out of my bag and laid it on top of the dresser. I lifted the shirt over my head, embarrassed for myself at the dampness of the armpits. Wearing only my yellow lace bra, I shook my head at my body’s awkward reaction to the high heat of the desert, turning slowly toward the large glass windows. Suddenly, a blur of activity flashed opposite the pane as Bill and Coffey skipped across the hot slate patio and hopped into the pool.

Mortified, I clutched my shirt to my body, covering my breasts. Had they seen me in my bra!? As they lazily swam and splashed, the boys gave no indication that they were even aware I was on the other side of the glass and I let out a slow sigh of relief. Having dodged an embarrassing bullet, I grabbed my swimsuit and scurried to finish changing in the bathroom.

I tossed my shirt on the counter and laid out the triangles of the top, pre-tying the knot of the top’s neck strings. I splashed cold water on my face and patted my cheeks and forehead dry with a small towel. Refreshed, I reached to my back and unhooked the clasp of my bra. Released from their restraint, my plump breasts swelled – almost as though breathing a sigh of relief – as they stood perkily atop my ribs. I absent-mindedly rubbed at the crease of the underwire beneath my boob as a flush sounded from the connected toilet. Seconds later, the door to the commode opened and I spun to face Fisher as he stepped into the larger room staring at his phone. In the instant before he looked up from the screen, I frantically snatched a hand towel and unfurled it to conceal my naked tits. Our eyes met, holding each other’s gaze before a flash of realization sparked in his eyes.

“Holy shit! What the hell are you doing in here?!” he blurted as he struggled to maintain eye contact. My breasts rose and fell rapidly with my flustered breathing, making the small towel’s difficult job even harder.

“When the hell did you get in there? You were eating with the others!”

“I had to take a leak first! What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Well…” my breathing was slowing as the shock and panic gradually seeped from my brain. “Look, just get out and let me change. And don’t say anything to the others, ok?” Fisher nodded his agreement – his eyes fleetingly drifting downward – then discretely made his exit. I locked the door behind him.

Now truly alone, I quickly flipped the white triangles of fabric over my breasts and ducked my head under the neck strap, knotting the strings behind my back. I peeled off my shorts and yellow lace thong in one motion and stepped into the white bikini bottoms, tugging the garment into place and double-knotting the side-ties at either hip. I’d come too close to unwanted exposure twice already to risk another mishap.

Dressed for the pool, I left the bathroom and walked through the bedroom to the glass doors, out into the scorching sunlight of the slate patio. Bill and Coffey had been joined by a rejuvenated Lawson in the pool, and the three of them were laughing and splashing while Kyle looked on from a deck chair, a pint of what appeared to be gin and tonic sitting on the ground beside him. At the other end of the yard, Lewis was playing on his putting green while George and Colin took practice swings. Fisher emerged from the living room carrying a beer and a plate of sandwiches; he met my gaze, blushed slightly as he looked away, and joined the golfers. I let out a long breath in frustration at the first-ever awkwardness between us, and hoped it would pass quickly.

The horseplay in the pool had stopped as soon as I emerged from the bedroom. Whether it was due to manners in the presence of a “lady” or distraction at the generous exposure of female skin, I wanted the jackassery to resume ASAP. I leapt from the pool’s slate edge, tucking my knees into my belly and cannon-balling into the center of the three boys. My splash even reached Kyle’s chair to everyone’s amusement. I surfaced, floating on my back as my baked body cooled in the water.

“At least we know you’ll never sink!” Kyle teased from the patio as he wrung out his shirt. The others joined him in a laugh, while each sneaking a conspicuous glance at my floatation devices. A playful splash to Coffey’s face reignited the water fight and seemed to return me to my status as “one of the guys.” Soon the gossip began, as Bill teased Coffey that he and his girlfriend of three years would be next down the aisle. Coffey retorted, asking how Bill’s progress on his “baseball team of sons” was coming. With a look of feigned disappointment, Bill replied that he would likely have to settle for a hockey team.

“What about you, McGee? You got a special fella back home?” Lawson grinned as he turned the attention to me. From his chair, Kyle answered for me.

“McGee prefers to play the field. Love ’em and leave ’em, that’s how you play it, right?” I put all the strength I could muster into the wall of water that I pushed towards Kyle’s poolside throne.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone seriously. Haven’t really dated anyone since John and I broke up last fall.”

Floating by on his back, Coffey interjected, “Maybe you should get with a brotha if these white boys aren’t getting the job done.” Coffey was by most accounts the most accomplished student-athlete to ever come out of his elite New England prep school, and his impression of a street tough was even worse than he intended.

“What, are you volunteering? Do you want to avoid letting Sandra make an honest man out of you so badly that you want her to murder you in your sleep?” I dunked his head under the water, but he rose swiftly and grabbed me as he surfaced, tossing me across the small pool with a laugh and a splash.

“Hey!” Kyle took three large mouthfuls of gin and tonic as he protested. “I’m the birthday princess-”

“‘Bachelor,’ you knob.” Bill corrected, but Kyle ignored him.

“-so if anyone gets to sex McGee, it should be me!” He finished the last two mouthfuls of his drink and stood regally at the pool’s edge. With telekinetic coordination, Lawson and Coffey leapt from the water, grabbing Kyle by the arms and dragging him into the pool. The ensuing splash-fight drew Fisher, George, Lewis, and Colin from the other end of the yard, as the entire party packed into the small pool.

The rest of the afternoon passed as alcohol was absorbed and friendly insults were swapped even more freely. At six, Fisher called for everyone’s attention.

“Ok, now that everyone has sobered up – and subsequently un-sobered up – we should talk about tonight. Gerard is going to pick us up at eight, so that gives you two hours to get your hair just right; looking at you there, Billy-boy.” Bill winked and ran his fingers through his brown buzzcut in response. I stepped forward, wrapped in a towel.

“I should probably go first, huh?” Fisher nodded. “Ok, I’ll be in the far bathroom. No one sneak in there.” I winked at Fisher as I walked into the bedroom. Grabbing my outfit along the way, I locked myself in the bathroom then dropped my towel and tossed my damp bikini on the counter as I stepped into the glass cube of the shower.

I turned on the water and stepped in, soaping my body and hair as I luxuriated in the steamy spray. The luxury fixture pulsed and traded streams, soothing my back and shoulders after the long flight. The pulsating jets summoned muscle-memories of a fancy hotel room in London, and the instruction of the steely, dominant stranger who had accompanied me to my room from the downstairs bar… how he’d instructed me to use a similar showerhead on myself in front of him, and the soaring orgasm that had preceded a night of exhilarating, near-anonymous sex.

I turned to face the showerhead, positioning the spray to focus on my awakening loins, the jets beating rhythmically on my throbbing clitoris as I gently toyed the nub between two fingers. ‘What was his name?’ I stroked my button more vigorously as I recalled his hands on me, my mouth on him, the buzz of that first, unfamiliar penetration… ‘What was his name?!’ My mind reached a block with the realization that not only was his name forgotten, but his face was lost as well.

As I pressed my two fingers harder onto my clit, bringing myself to the edge of climax, I realized that I was picturing Fisher in place of the forgotten gentleman. I braced myself against the marble wall as my body spasmed against my hand, while in my mind Fisher railed me from behind before directing me to my knees as he ejaculated into my gaping mouth, feeding me every drop as the British stranger had. A small murmured syllable “Fihhh-” escaped my trembling lips as my climax faded and my eyes opened. Shutting off the water, I recalled our earlier awkwardness and shook my head at the betrayal by my own mind. “God dammit, don’t do that.” I muttered at my own brain as I grabbed two fluffy towels and got to work drying my body and hair.

After thoroughly toweling off my body and blow-drying and loosely curling my hair, I pulled on a navy blue g-string, feeling the thread back disappear unfamiliarly into the nook between my cheeks. I grimaced at the alien sensation, but accepted that that was what the garment was meant to do. I took my dress off the hanger, watching the sequined patterns dance from purple to blue and green as they shifted in the light, then stepped into the gown. Pulling the straps to my shoulders, I reached behind me to the base of my spine, tugging the zipper closed at the small of my back. The dramatic scoop-back of the dress didn’t permit a bra, but as I spun a sparkly circle in front of the mirrors, my firm breasts defied gravity as they stood out effortlessly beneath the body-hugging fabric.

Tugging the hem down to its stopping-point above my mid-thigh, I stepped into my black patent four-inch heels. I didn’t get dressed up like this often, but turning another circle before the mirror, I smiled at the result of my preening. The shimmering fabric embraced my round ass like a second, exotic skin, while simultaneously leading the eye both upward to the creamy skin of my bare back and downward to the high-heels-enhanced line of my legs. I might have been “one of the guys,” but I certainly didn’t look like one of them tonight.

The uniform for the night for the group seemed to be suits in a rainbow of greys, with no ties. The conversation stopped among the group of six assembled in the living room ceased as I reached the end of the hall. George’s grip on his highball glass slipped, as he urgently fumbled to place his drink on a coaster to avoid a spill. I theatrically rolled my eyes at the sudden change and playfully tossed a pillow from the couch at Kyle’s head, saying “I couldn’t find a hooded sweatshirt fancy enough for the occasion.”

Fisher cleared his throat and checked his watch as he resumed his emcee duties. “While we’re waiting on Lawson and Coffey to finish doing each other’s makeup or whatever it is they’re up to in the bathroom – and I hope they wrap up soon since I don’t want to keep Gerard waiting – who has room keys? The club is on the casino property, so it should be easy enough for everyone to find their way home as they get grumpy and tired… Looking at you, Lewis.” Lewis let out an exaggerated yawn in response. As he closed his mouth, the missing members joined the group and we were out the door on our way to the drive.

“You look really great tonight, Sarah.” Kyle locked arms with me as we walked.

“Thanks. You look pretty damn sharp, yourself.” I reached across him to straighten his pocket square as Fisher appeared at my other side and hooked his elbow into my bare arm. Bookended between my guys, I beamed even as we broke apart to climb into the car.

Following a long, delicious meal filled with lengthy comic narratives and constant ball-busting (as well as generous wine service), we were returned to the hotel’s property. Arriving at the club entrance after eleven, Fisher approached the black-suit-clad head bouncer and loudly quipped, “We have a table reserved for nine at eleven thirty. The reservation should be under ‘Bachelor Party Princess’.” He turned and grinned proudly to the group; Kyle beamed back.

The bouncer checked his clipboard and looked over our group, then leaned in to concernedly whisper to Fisher. Standing almost-even with the enormous bouncer-boss, Fisher’s eyes lost their laughter for a brief moment as he spoke, his words drowned out by the blaring music beyond the door. The other man nodded, then instructed another large man in a black suit to show us to our booth. In the three steps it took us to join Fisher, his eyes had regained their happy spark as he put his arm around my shoulders.

We were escorted to one of the narrow leather U-shaped booths, separated from the dancefloor by a row of high-top tables. The oblong table was laid with silver buckets of liquor bottles and carafes of mixers. I slid my butt across the leather seat, stopping next to Kyle as Fisher’s momentum “accidentally” sent his hip crashing into mine.

“Careful, man! There’s a beverage involved!” I hoisted my brimming champagne flute in sarcastic protest. Fisher responded by clinking the base of a bottle of whiskey to my glass as he poured himself a drink. I leaned in to be heard over the club’s pounding music. “What did the bouncer say to you?” He shook his head as he sipped. “Come on, dude! Did he think we were too drunk? Fisher!” I playfully shoved him, but he didn’t smile. He pursed his lips and drew in a deep breath as he set his glass on the table.

“The bouncer helpfully advised me that they don’t allow guests to bring escorts into the club…” his voice trailed off. I twisted my face in confusion before grasping the extent of what he had told me.

“Wait…” Fisher closed his eyes and nodded slowly. “…he thought that I…” He took another drink and wiped his lips with a napkin. “…was a…”

“Yeah. Now don’t take this the wrong way, but without context the group might give off that sort of vibe. Look at it from the outside; you have one gorgeous, chic girl, dressed to kill, walking in with a group of eight guys of varying levels of… shall we say ‘sophistication.'” He indicated across the table to Bill and George, eating citrus garnish slices and engineering prosthetic lips from the rinds. My indignation waned.

“I guess… I mean, if I’m going to be confused for a hooker, at least in Vegas the escorts are hot! I’d be more insulted if we were in AC.” Fisher smiled with relief. We leaned back into the padded bench, surveying the raucous dancefloor. I tipped my head in his direction as I half-shouted against the music. “Just one more thing, then I’ll drop it, I promise!”

“Mmhmm?” He replied, his eyes still focused on the party.

“Why did that guy assume I was the hooker and not the John? How did he know I didn’t hire eight goofball gigolos to show me around town?” Fisher cackled as he wrapped his burly arm around me and refilled my glass. We sat like that for a while, talking quietly and observing the excitement of the club as the other members of our party came and went. Colin reappeared to refill his vodka and reached his hand out to me.

“Come on, McGee! It’s just me and Lawson dancing together right now; people are getting the wrong idea!” Not being much of a dancer, I crinkled my nose. Fisher replied for me.

“Are you sure that’s the ‘wrong idea?’ I think you’re cute together.” Colin slowly blinked at Fisher for a response, then turned back to me.

“Come on! I promise not to make you fall in love with me!” He grinned.

“Won’t my presence bust up your, uh, ‘game’, if that’s what you’re calling it?” I could tell there was no way out of this so I began to slide out from Fisher’s arm. Besides that, even as dance-averse as I was, it felt silly being in a Vegas nightclub and not dancing.

Colin waved dismissively. “Please, the presence of a girl attracts other girls. Everyone knows that; it’s science!” He threw his hands in the air in celebration as I stood from the booth.

“So I’m the decoy on the duck pond of your penis?” I punched Colin in the arm as Kyle and Coffey reappeared, flagging down the others as they presented their tray of shot glasses, limes, and a bottle of tequila.

“A toast to the Bachelor Party Princess!” Coffey announced as we raised our glasses.

“And to penis duck pond decoys!” Colin added enthusiastically to near-universal confusion. He and Lawson each grabbed a hand as they pulled me to the dance floor. Colin’s theory astoundingly proved correct; no more than five minutes after I joined them, he and Lawson were separated from me, each of them chatting up a bottle-blonde twenty-something in a slinky, sparkly dress.

Alone on the dance floor, I began to return to the table when two arms encircled my waist, one pushing a glass of champagne into my hand.

“Fisher, you startled m-” My words caught in my throat as I looked down at the shimmering silver shirt sleeves, ending in wrists wrapped in gold chain bracelets. I spun away, holding the glass away from my body as I sized up the stranger who had brought it. He was a little under six feet tall, dressed in a silver button down and black pants. Above his leering face he wore a thorny crown of spiked black hair.

“Hey. I like your dress.” I took a step back. “What’s wrong, baby? I thought since your boyfriends were busy, you needed some company.” He stepped towards me, an unnerving smile splitting his face.

“Thanks, but I was just returning to my friends.” I went to move around him, but he was undeterred and blocked my path, trying to dance with me.

“Yeah, I saw you and your group. Which one of those guys is your boyfriend?” I backed away again, but was retreating in the wrong direction from the safety of the table.

“None of them is my boyfriend. I really want to go now.” My back met a rail. His menacing smile widened as he closed, placing a slimy hand on my hip.

“Oh! So you’re a pro? And you do groups? Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double it!” His hand slithered up my side, caressing the glittery fabric rising along my ribs, before unashamedly cupping my breast. “God damn, these tits are real, aren’t they?! You don’t see a lot of working girls without implants in this town!”

His fingers contracted around my tit as he leaned in to kiss me. Writhing and dodging his advance, I stepped to my right and tried to break away, but his other hand grabbed my wrist. “Where do you think you’re running off to, bitch? Don’t you want to make some bread? I’ll treat you right… Here, why don’t you have a drink?” Gripping my hand, he tried to force the glass to my lips.

“Get away from me!” I shouted as I pushed past him, shoving my shoulder hard into his torso as I tried to break free. Refusing to release his grip, he overturned the glass in my hand, dumping champagne onto my chest and sending the flute crashing to the floor.

“LET! HER! GO!” The bellow cut through the music as three enormous forms emerged from the crowd. The creep released his grip in fearful surprise, and I ran directly into Fisher’s arms, burying my face in his chest as Coffey and Lewis continued advancing on my shrinking assailant. After a brief discussion, the sleaze made a beeline for the exit.

Fisher patted my hair as I sobbed against him. “Guys, I’m gonna take her back to the room. You stay here with the group. She’ll be fine, we just need to get cleaned up.” Wrapping his jacket around my shoulders, Fisher walked me out of the club as I clung to his side, hiding my tear-streaked face from the other guests beneath his coat as I burrowed into his ribs.

We entered the empty villa and I waited in the hall as Fisher hurried to the media room. He returned with a bottle of club soda from the bar, then led me to the bathroom. I folded his coat and placed it on the counter as he ran a washcloth under cold water and began wiping my puffy, flushed cheeks. Placing the damp rag in my hand, Fisher turned back to the counter and poured club soda onto another towel.

“Did he hurt you?” Fisher’s jaw clenched with steely concern but his eyes glistened with caring as he dabbed the stretchy fabric along my collar bone.

“No. I’m just humiliated.” I replied, swabbing messy streaks of dried salt and makeup from my cheeks. “Why does everyone think I’m a hooker?” A fresh tear rolled down my cheek and Fisher hurriedly caught it with his towel.

“Sarah, I refuse to believe that you would let the opinion of some lounge-lizard scumbag bother you like this.”

“What about the bouncer? He almost didn’t let me in for being a prostitute!” My lips quivered.

“Sarah…” he repeated my proper name as he trailed off, still pressing the damp towel to the soiled fabric of my dress. “Like we talked about at the club, that was a reflection on the nerdy guys you were with.” He hooked the finger of his other hand under my chin, raising my face to meet his gaze. “I mean, it’s hard to believe that eight dorks like us would be lucky enough to be with you otherwise.” His eyes sparkled with warmth as he smiled. I returned Fisher’s tender gaze as a final tear trickled from my eye, falling down my cheek and landing on Fisher’s hand.

Following the teardrop’s flight, Fisher and I looked down in astonishment as we simultaneously perceived his hand resting on my heaving, champagne-soaked breast. He cautiously began to pull away as our eyes rose from my chest and his hand to each other’s face. We froze for an eternal moment; the soft flesh of my globe bending beneath his fingertips. I felt my own elevated heartrate rhythmically raising my breast against his palm. We held our breath, afraid to stir and unable to retreat. The moment broke and our lips pressed together in a desperate, passionate kiss.

Our mouths locked as we dragged our bodies together in a vice-like embrace. Fisher dropped the towel as his hand zealously cupped and molded my breast. His other hand brushed across my cheek as he gripped the corner of my jaw. My arms wrapped around his large frame, I frantically tugged his shirt from the waist of his pants, my hands ducking below the fabric and pressing across the smooth skin of his back.

His fingers traced below my ear, following the curve of my neck to the shoulder strap of my dress. Pushing the sequined band down my arm, his other hand released its grip on my breast for a moment to tug the other strap free. I let go of Fisher as I freed my arms and let the top of the dress fall, liberating my bare tits into the bathroom light.

“Wow…” was all Fisher could stammer.

“You like them?” I flirtily bowed my shoulders to enhance their ripe appearance atop my ribcage.

Fisher carefully took a naked breast in each of his large hands, feeling their weight and firmness as he squeezed and lifted them. “Uh huh…” He finally managed, leaning in to resume our kiss. My fingers traveled up his torso, unbuttoning his shirt until I flattened my palms against his bare, muscular chest. Scratching my nails over his flat stomach, my hands reached the waist of his pants and I unbuckled his belt and undid the button and fly in one swift motion. His pants dropped around his shoes on the floor as he slowed his mashing of my tits, allowing me a greater range of motion.

With my fingers tucked into the waistband of his briefs, I paused for a cruel, teasing second as my tongue danced lightly across his lips. His breath came in frustrated, pleading rushes through his flared nostrils as I feigned debate whether to continue. Slowly dragging my fingertips from his waist across his pelvic bone, I reached the trimmed patch of hair at the base of his rod. My fingernails found his shaft, tracing the veiny tube tucked along his leg until I reached the rounded head. Fisher drew in a sharp breath as I tugged his briefs to his knees, my hand wrapped around his thick, pulsing cock.

Slowly stroking his shaft, our lips locked again in a lustful kiss. My pricked nipples rubbed against his palms, sending electric tickling throughout my body as I rolled his erection in my hand. I moaned softly into his mouth, as he unzipped the back of my dress; I wriggled my hips and the garment pooled at my feet. Stepping out of the ring of discarded shimmering fabric, I kicked the dress across the tiled floor with a playful flick of my high heel.

Fisher pulled me against him, his hands encircling my waist and diving to grab the twin, meaty shanks of my bare ass. As he mashed and plied my pale buttocks, I writhed against him, panting as I rubbed my crotch along the length of his shaft, the soaked scrap of my g-string the only barrier preventing penetration. Taking his erection in my hand again, I broke off our kiss, lightly pecking across his chest and stomach as I bent my knees. I lowered myself until I squatted in front of him, balanced on my four-inch heels, his hard-on at eye-level.

“Sarah…” his voice was heavy with longing and indecision. “Maybe we shuh-” I took his bulbous glans into my mouth, cutting him off as I wrapped my lips around his thick shaft. Encircling my fingers around the base, I began to jog my mouth over his engorged rod. Whatever Fisher had meant to say was now forgotten as he placed one hand gently at the back of my head, reaching down to grab my naked breast with the other.

As I fellated him, the reality of theact broke through my mind’s lustful fog. I was sucking my best friend’s – married best friend’s – cock at a bachelor party for our other best friend! However, if this awareness should have caused me pause, it did not as I moaned around his rigid pole and bobbed my head with increased enthusiasm. Cupping his balls in my palm, I drove my mouth as far down his shaft as I could, gagging and drooling as I took the head of his cock deep into the back of my throat.

“Hey guys?! What the fuck?!” I whipped my head around, a beaded line of saliva trailing from my bottom lip to Fisher’s glans, breaking and spattering on my naked tits. Kyle was standing in the doorway, his jacket slung over his shoulder, mouth hanging agape at the shocking sight of his naked friends. Fisher stammered, seeking an impossible explanation that eluded him, but Kyle interrupted. “No seriously, what the fuck, guys?”

Kyle walked wobblingly across the tile towards us. My breathing steadied and I wiped my chin, my hand still ringing Fisher’s shaft at its base. Disappointed at the interruption, I gave his dick a few slow tugs to keep him engaged.

“I don’t know, Kyle…” Fisher’s breathing was labored and the ongoing handjob was obviously distracting him. “It just sort of happened. I guess this looks pretty bad, huh?” Kyle raised his eyebrows as he leaned against the counter next to Fisher.

He grinned as he spoke. “I think you’ve got some explaining to do.” His gaze traveled from Fisher’s cock in my hand to my breasts, then made eye-contact with each of us in turn. “I mean, this is *my* bachelor party…” he deliberately massaged the growing bulge in his pants as I took Fisher’s glans back into my mouth, “and as I established, as the Bachelor Party Princess, if anyone gets to sex McGee, it will be me!”

I gave Fisher’s cock a long, slow suck goodbye, popping his head noisily from my lips as I released him, then dropped to my knees and scuttled over to kneel in front of the groom. Reaching up, I undid Kyle’s belt and fly, hastily tugging his pants and underwear to his knees as my raging libido drove my sense of urgency. His growing erection bobbed and waved before me as it was freed, and as I gave him several firm strokes, I kissed along the underneath of his shaft. Running my tongue along the soft underside of Kyle’s scrotum, I drew one ball into my mouth, followed by the other.

Kyle groaned his appreciation as I dragged my moist, parted lips back up his rod, finally reaching the tip, which quickly disappeared between my jaws. I took his head deep into my maw, twirling my tongue around the head as I caressed the base of his shaft. Falling into a rhythm as I bobbed my mouth on Kyle’s cock, I reached toward Fisher, taking his hard-on in my hand and stroking him as I sucked Kyle. Gasping as I released Kyle from my mouth, I plunged my lips back onto Fisher’s dick, tugging on Kyle’s erection to treat everyone fairly. With a high-pitched whimper, I returned my mouth to Kyle, taking his full-length deep into the back of my throat as I flicked the tip of my tongue along his sack.

Bracing myself with one hand gripped on Fisher’s pole with my other against Kyle’s hip, I furiously pumped my mouth on his cock. Spittle frothed around my lips as I choked and gurgled on his thick rod, the head striking the back of my throat as I passionately facefucked myself on the Bachelor’s engorged tool. Kyle cleared my auburn hair from my face, gathering it into a bun and pulling my head forward until the full length of his tool was buried at the back of my mouth. He groaned at the sustained sensation of my throat contracting around his glans as I held the position as long as I could. Gagging, I coughed up a messy blend of spit and precum that coated his rod. Stroking him, I gazed up apologetically for relenting as I desperately caught my breath, then took his dick back into my mouth.

Bathing Kyle’s pole in my warm saliva, I cupped my breasts and wrapped his rigid shaft their downy embrace. Bouncing on my knees, I elicited a throaty moan from Kyle as his cock slid between my soft, perfect tits. I gave his tip a tender lick each time it surfaced from between my pillowy mounds, his hips thrusting to maximize his pleasure. I turned my head and opened my mouth to take in Fisher who placed his hand on the back of my head and dictated my bobbing, his grip firmer than it had been before. Craning my neck at an awkward angle in order to service both of my friends, Fisher’s cock pushed diagonally across my mouth, his head bulging my cheek comically each time he pulled my face to meet his thrusting hips. My boys vocalized their enjoyment with growing frequency and volume. With a mixed edge of reluctance and impatience to his voice, Fisher suggested we move to the bed.

I rose on my four-inch heels as the boys feverishly cast off their shoes and the last of their clothes. The three of us stood naked in the bathroom, eight years of immaculate friendship forever changed. Kyle placed a hand to my neck, pulling my face to his as we shared an intense, prolonged kiss. I broke off and turned to Fisher, placing my hands on his shoulders as he lowered his mouth to mine. They each took my hand and led me out of the bathroom.

We reached the edge of the bed and Kyle scooped me up in his arms and tossed me onto the downy, white quilt that stretched over the king-sized mattress. The boys climbed on, following me across the soft surface as I raised and joined my knees mischievously, allowing them only a hinting glance of my navy g-string. Kyle knelt next to my head, holding out his pulsing erection as he pressed the tip against my cheek. I turned my head and obligingly parted my lips to accept him into my mouth, tenderly massaging his testes between my thumb and forefinger as I suckled his cock. Brushing the mussed red hair from my forehead with one hand, Kyle took a heaping handful of my fleshy globe in the other.

Fisher scrambled across the mattress, kissing my knees until I cooperatively parted them. He pecked his way down the inside of my thigh, stopping when he reached the drenched fabric of my panties. My last scrap of clothing was quickly removed as Fisher tugged the g-string down my legs and over my high-heeled-feet, exposing my clean-shaved pussy.

Tossing my panties to the floor, Fisher hooked my legs over his shoulders. He slid toward me until his face reached my sopping snatch and my thighs wrapped around his head. His hot breath washed over my vulva as he hesitated for a tantalizing instant before diving his mouth onto my muff. I let out a sharp yelp at his first contact, my voice muffled by Kyle’s cock in my mouth. Sucking and pulling my outer folds with his lips, Fisher stroked two fingers along my clitoris then trailed them downward to enter my vagina. My hips bucked at the penetration, but Fisher held them flat on the bed with his other hand.

I cooed with pleasure as Fisher’s tongue pressed down on my clit, tracing a slow swirl around my engorged nub as his fingers dug deeper into my saturated quim. Kyle rhythmically flexed his hips, sliding his dick between my jaws. My grip on the base of his shaft tightened as Fisher’s mouth and fingers worked their magic between my legs. The carnal enjoyment continued building in my loins until it boiled and spilled over. I tore my mouth away from Kyle’s cock as my piercing cries tore through the silent villa.

“Oh God! I’m cummmmmmiiiiiing, Fffffiiiiiiuuhishhhh!” My words deteriorated into a throaty moan as both of my hands flew to the back of Fisher’s head, digging up handles of his hair and mashing his face deeper into my orgasming folds. “FfffffuuUUUAYYYUUUHHHHHkuh!” I rolled my hips, raising my ass off the mattress, thrusting my snatch harder to his mouth as he continued to lash my switch with his tongue, sending pulses of pleasure throughout my shaking body.

Collapsing as I caught my breath, I released my hold on his hair and opened my clenched eyes. Turning to my right, Kyle still kneeled above me, slowing stroking his cock and smiling. I reached over and pulled his hard-on to my mouth, gently taking the glans between my lips and slowly lavishing the head with a loving stroke of my tongue as my head swam in a euphoric haze.

Fisher rose and crawled across the bed, propping himself on one elbow beside me, opposite Kyle. I dropped Kyle’s cock from my mouth as I turned to Fisher, his face glistening with my fluids. He playfully pinched my nipple as he leaned in to kiss me. The musky, spicy taste of my cum hung heavy in his mouth as our tongues danced passionately.

I rolled toward him, my hands running over his pecs and breaking off our kiss as my lips pecked delicately across his muscled chest and abs. Rising to my hands and knees, my kisses became longer and wetter as I passed below his waist. Kyle shuffled across the bed, dodging the glossy, black spikes of my high-heels, positioning himself between my legs. Placing a steadying hand on the small of my back, just above the cleft of my ass, he guided the head of his cock to enter my sopping pussy.

Kyle pushed his hips forward and his rigid pole split the folds of my cunny in one smooth motion, drawing an eager gasp from my lungs and interrupting my kissing at Fisher’s inner thigh. I grabbed Fisher’s cock and brought the swollen glans to my mouth, no longer interested in playfully drawing out the job. The stretching pounding of Kyle’s erection in my gash immediately sent electric shivers throughout my body, and my lips vibrated around Fisher’s shaft with my delighted warbling as my hand cupped his balls.

Pulling my head away from his pole for a moment, Fisher repositioned himself, swinging his legs under him so that he was kneeling upright in front of me. I bowed back into him, taking his stiff pole back into my ravenous mouth. Above me, Fisher growled his appreciation, enmeshing his fingers in my hair as he began to guide my pace. I dutifully opened my jaw, allowing Fisher to use my warm, wet mouth as he wanted.

Behind me, Kyle seized my hips in his strong hands, pulling my jiggling ass cheeks to his groin as he drove his cock deep into my sensitive quim. Snarling with pleasure, he increased his cadence, furiously fucking my dripping pussy. His swinging balls slapped noisily against my clit with each thrust as he forcefully pounded my cunt with his rigid tool. A high-pitched squeal escaped through my puckered lips as the powerful hammering of Kyle’s cock pushed me into a shuddering, shaking orgasm.

“Oh God, Kyle! Fuck me!” I released Fischer’s cock from my mouth for a brief instant to scream, then dutifully returned his glans to my lips.

As my climax approached its first peak, Fisher clutched my face against his torso, pushing his tip to its deepest in the back of my throat. Drooling and whining, I choked around his cock as my esophagus adjusted to the intrusion. Fisher placed his fingers beneath my chin, tilting my face to look up at him. Wide-eyed, I gazed obediently at Fisher as I continued to cum, our eye-contact driving me even further over the edge. Spit-roasted between my two best friends, my tiny body shook, racked by another powerful orgasm. Fisher looked away from me, across to Kyle.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening!” Kyle crowed. Fisher nodded his shared disbelief then again looked down at me.

“Sarah, do… do you want to ride me?” His words were rushed between his ragged gasps. I released his dick from my mouth as he plopped down on his butt. I crawled forward, feeling Kyle’s dick fall from my slit. Kyle scuttled toward the middle of the bed as well, lifting me to my knees to press our lips passionately together. He smiled sweetly as we broke our kiss, playfully swatting me on the behind to encourage me toward Fisher.

Fisher’s cock swayed invitingly before me as I scrambled over his legs. Rising on my knees, I reached between my thighs, gripped his penis and guided it into my warm, inviting pussy. I cooed with delight as his prick filled my hungry cavity. Leaning forward, my erect nipples brushed electrically against his chest. I tilted my face to his and we locked our lips in a passionate kiss as I began to rock my hips, sliding my slickened snatch over and along his rigid pole.

The tip of his erection struck the back of my tunnel, sending a gasping wail from my lips and into Fisher’s mouth. His strong hands gripped my buttocks, grinding the head of his cock against my cervix as our kiss muffled my whimpering. He slackened his pressure – though his fingertips still dug into the meat of my ass – and I began to bounce on my knees, feeling his thick rod stretching me as it passed between my sodden lips.

Bracing my hands against Fisher’s chest for support, I sat up, bobbing my cunny energetically atop his dick. Kyle stood on the bed beside us, slowly stroking his prick as he directed the tip to my face. I turned, resting one hand on his hip for balance, and parted my lips to accept his tool into my mouth. My other hand gripped the base of his shaft, steadying him as my lips hummed and buzzed around his hard-on. Below me, Fisher traced a hand down the cleft of my ass, stroking my perineum. He bucked his hips with increasing, precise ferocity, forcing himself deeper and harder into my quim. My pussy clamped around his pole as the climactic spasms swelled in my loins and spread swiftly throughout my frame.

I held the head of Kyle’s cock in my mouth, furiously stroking his thick shaft in my tiny fist as my orgasm exploded through my body and out of my mouth in a panicked burst of bawling cries. My lips and tongue vibrated around Kyle’s tip, the pleasure traveling down his rod and throughout his frame. His head lolled on his neck and his hand went to the back of my neck, pushing his prick further into my mouth. Prying my clenched eyelids apart as my climax faded, I gawped up at Kyle, taking the full length of his erection into my throat as our eyes met. Reading the question in his gaze, I obediently nodded my acquiescence and began coating his rigid cock in my slippery saliva.

Kyle drew his spit-slickened tool from my mouth and again positioned himself behind me. I leaned forward, lifting my ass into the air to give him better access. Only the head of Fisher’s cock remained inside my cooze. Spitting on his fingers, Kyle rubbed the additional lubricant across my puckered anus. His tip pressed against my inflexible knot, but paused at the resistance.

“Are you sure about this, McGee?” he asked cautiously. Blowing a tousled lock of red hair from my face, I reached behind me to hold Kyle’s erection in place. Rocking back on my knees, I pushed my ass over the rounded head of his cock, feeling the stubborn rim recoil at the intrusion. At the same time, my rearward motion drew Fisher’s dick back into my pussy, simultaneously filling me in both holes. Wincing at the unfamiliar penetration in my backdoor, I struggled to keep my breathing steady as I fought my body’s attempts to tense.

Growing accustomed to the new intrusion, I slowly resumed bucking my hips. The boys held still to allow me to dictate pace and depth. Unable to resist the temptation hanging in his face any longer, Fisher cupped my swaying tits in his large hands, the intimate contact of his palms on my nipples shivered down my spine and lessened the strain in my stretched pucker. Kyle’s hands returned to their place on my hips, gently starting to pull my body to him as his fingers kneaded the meat of my ass.

Fisher resumed pumping his hips below me, pushing his rigid dick deeper into my quivering snatch and increasing the pace of his drives. I whimpered and flexed my pelvis, filling my womb with the full length of his pounding shaft. Fisher’s hands left my breasts, one taking a position on my tailbone, where it pressed me further down onto his tool. His other gripped the back of my neck forcefully, holding me in place in a manner both domineering and pacifying. He pulled my mouth to his and I returned his impassioned kiss as he shared my tender holes with our best friend.

Kyle also changed his grip, moving his hands from my hips to my shoulders. With his new powerful hold, he dragged my body backwards to meet the increased tempo of his plunges. The stretching pain of his growing ferocity caused me to break off my kiss with Fisher as my inflexible pucker struggled to admit his thrashing prick.

“Hyuhhhgsh. Hyuhhhgsh. Hyuhhhgsh.” The successive impacts in my overextended cavities traveled the length of my body and out my mouth as concussive syllables. As Kyle yanked me toward him to fill my asshole with his tool, while Fisher refused to release his hold and tugged me back to bury his prick in my sodden pussy. I cried out, my voice guttural, breathless howl as the two monster cocks fought for dominance inside me.

My arms gave out and I collapsed onto Fisher’s chest, overwhelmed by the furious, simultaneous pummeling of my ass and quim. The boys did not relent, continuing to pound my holes as I lay panting atop the best man, my large breasts squashed against his smooth pectoral muscles. The effect of the double hammering of my anus and pussy caught me by surprise as a debilitating orgasm tore through my tiny body.

“GuhhhhhhohhhhhhhhhhhFUCK!” I shrieked below Fisher’s ear as my head hung uselessly in the nape of his neck. Kyle’s cock stretched and pulled the unbending rim of my knot as he continued pummeling my asshole. Fisher paused his thrusting to regain his composure as my spasming snatch clamped down on his pole. My yelps continued at the thrilling pain of Kyle’s continuing thrusts in my anus, and Fisher brought his hand soothingly to the back of my head. I lifted my face from his chest to look Fisher in the eye, my head rocking with each jarring impact at my ass.

“Fisher…” I gasped between Kyle’s thrusts.

“Yeah?” He answered, his voice heavy with strain as he fought off his own climax. I paused and closed my eyes at the carnal stretching sting of Kyle’s cock in my constricted asshole. I whimpered softly at each impact and collected my voice to speak. My eyes wide and sparkling, my voice came as a halted, throaty whisper.

“Do you mmmmssh want to take a turn mmmmmmpfff fucking your best friend in her ass?” I purred between Kyle’s strokes. Fisher nodded eagerly. I flinched as my sphincter snapped shut at Kyle’s abrupt withdrawal. Climbing off of Fisher, I went to my hands and knees on the bedspread, wiggling my butt playfully at him. Licking my left hand, I reached back and spread the spit-lube around the rim of my puckered anus, then pulled my cheek apart invitingly.

Fisher pushed more saliva around my rosebud with his fingers, teasing the hole with his fingertip before pressing the head of his cock to my knot. Even though Kyle had loosened my backdoor, I held my breath as I felt the stinging tension build-then-break as Fisher’s glans passed through the rigid barrier. Slowly exhaling, I rocked back on my knees, taking in more of his length and feeling the walls of my rectum bend around his intrusive girth. His hands firmly prying apart my cheeks, Fisher began a patient tempo, pushing his rock-hard tool inside my ass.

Sitting on the bed near us, Kyle’s erection stood at unyielding attention. I crooked my finger, beckoning him to come closer. He knelt in front of me and I took his engorged member in my hand, guiding it to my mouth.

“But it was just in yo- ohhh,” he didn’t finish his thought as his wood disappeared into my hungry mouth. “Holy shit, McGee, this is not a side of you I ever expected to see!” Closing my eyes submissively, I smiled and hummed around his thick pole, the head sliding across my tongue and into the back of my throat as I was pushed forward by another impact from Fisher.

Kyle’s cock pulsed in my mouth, the veined shaft growing heavy on my tongue as I cupped and massaged his tensing balls. Once again, I found myself spit-roasted between the best man, as he fucked my willing asshole, and the lucky groom, as I dutifully sucked his cock.

“Fuuuuuuck, McGee, I’m gonna cum.” Kyle verbalized what his constricting scrotum had already told me. Trembling, he pulled his penis from my mouth. “What should… uhh, where…?” he raised his eyebrows in hesitant confusion as his eyes reflected a growing urgency. I thought for a brief second before responding.

“Do you want to cum on my tits?” Behind me, Fisher’s ragged breathing betrayed his similarly imminent climax as he withdrew his dick from my quivering anus. I rose to my knees in front of Fisher, cupping and raising my breasts, pushing them together to make two full, ready targets.

The boys stood side-by-side before me, each stroking his cock, aiming at my breasts. Kyle was the first to break, launching a volley of thick cum that arced high of its target and struck me on my nose and lips.

“Oh shit! Sorry!” he exclaimed amid his ongoing climax. I giggled at the slip and his panic, even as another rope of jism lashed across my chin. Wiping the semen from my face, I licked my fingers clean to the awe of them both. He chuckled through his uneven breath and shook his head as I swallowed his seed, “I had no idea you were a secret freak…” before firing off another rocket of jizz that splattered messily over my ripe globes and trickled into my compressed cleavage.

Fisher’s cock exploded next, a gummy wave of cum splashing across my clavicle and the tops of my melons, ricocheting off my chest, and running in gooey rivulets down my breasts and dripping to the bedspread. He shot two mores ropes into my cleavage, the sticky jism mingling with Kyles as it dribbled between my tits.

Taking a cock in each hand, I brought Kyle’s member to my mouth, tenderly wrapping my plump lips around his head once more. Massaging his shaft, I coaxed out two final spurts of cum, smiling affectionately at him as I swallowed his loads. I switched my mouth to Fisher’s tip, stroking him until he rewarded me by filling my mouth with the last of his warm cum. After dutifully gulping down his seed, I gave each glans a final kiss before we all three collapsed exhausted on the bed.

Kyle hopped up and stumbled to the bathroom, returning with a towel. Hastily wiping much of the sticky cum from my breasts and throat, I thanked him before tossing away the rag in the direction of the bathroom door. I kicked my heels to the floor and crawled beneath the blankets. My last sensation as I drifted to sleep was one of warmth and comfort, nestled between my two best friends.

Morning broke with blinding desert sunlight spilling through the glass wall of the suite. Groggily rousing, I was surprised to find myself burrowed into the crook of naked Fisher’s underarm. The events of the night slowly came into alarming focus as the pounding in my head grew to a thunderous orchestral crescendo. I took my foggy head in my hands, covering my eyes as on my either side lay the sleeping, nude forms of my married best friend and my engaged other best friend.

Rubbing my clenched, bleary eyes with my fists as I sat up, the bedsheet slipped, exposing my bare breasts, still marbled with traces of dried cum. My eyes flew wide open with shocked horror at the sound of a throat clearing.

“Ahem. Hey… uh, guys?” Lewis stood in the doorway, a steaming cup of coffee threatening to slip from his hand as he stood, mouth agape. His bulging eyes went from one stirring male form to the other, then returned to my naked tits. Kyle and Fisher shot up in near unison, their own hazy recollections of the night roaring into their consciousness with the force of an adulterous freight train. Burning with mortification, I raised the sheet to cover my rack as Lewis unsteadily placed his mug on the table by the door. Still visibly shaken, he cleared his throat again.

“So, are we not golfing this morning?”

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