Pretending was tiring. That’s what Rebecca thought as she got another glass of champagne, wishing it was a shot of tequila. She turned and looked at the expensive restaurant that had been converted into a party space. Boring music being played by a guy wearing a polo shirt. Fancy hors d’oeuvres laid out on silver platters. It was all lovely, but not the pouding music of a real club she was hoping for.
Her bachelorette party was a complicated mashup of the different parts of her life. She’d had to carefully plan and prepare everyone in advance because most of her old friends, the girls she grew up with, were wild and from the wrong side of the tracks. While her new friends and her fiancé’s sisters were rich and fancy and kind of stuck up. Not that she didn’t like them, she did and in fact, she was hoping to become a lot more like them. That is, wealthy, classy, powerful, and respected.
The different cliques were easy to tell apart. On one side of the large room were her fiancé’s sister, Cynthia’s, friends. Clad in designer dresses with perfectly even tans and impeccable hair and makeup. On the other side were a few of Rebecca’s old friends, in little tube dresses or mini skirts. Two very different kinds of beauty, with Rebecca in the middle wondering which one she wanted to be.
She took a deep breath and straightened up as Cynthia walked over to her. “Oh my god, Cynthia, this place is gorgeous! That you so much for setting this all up!” Rebecca said as they kissed each other’s cheeks and smiled.
“I’m glad you like it! It’s super fun. I had Daddy’s assistant set everything up, including a very special surprise!” Cynthia said, glowing with excitement. Rebecca plastered a fake smile on her face to try and match her energy.
The music suddenly changed and everyone started to do some kind of two-step group dance. Rebecca couldn’t take it and so she escaped to the bathroom.
Her reflection in a huge mirror over the sinks greeted her and she grinned. She looked good. She’d been dieting to get into her wedding dress, but she still had some curves. Her tits looked amazing in the low-cut silver sequined strapless dress. Her cleavage was impressive and her breasts had threatened to pop out every time she hit the dance floor.
She instinctively arched her back a little and smiled at the effect in her reflection. She looked good. Good enough to catch a handsome, charming, ridiculously rich man. She was headed for the good life. Summer in Martha’s Vineyard, vacations in Europe or the Caribbean. A big apartment in the city. Fancy clothes and a maid. Still, there were things she would miss.
As she thought that, she heard the familiar sound of giggling and quick snorting. Tammy and someone in one of the stalls, doing coke, she guessed. She went over to the closed door and knocked.
“Oh shit, oh shit,” Tammy said behind the door. Rebecca laughed.
“You’re not doing something illegal at my fancy fucking bachelorette party, are you?” She asked, and she heard Tammy sigh in relief.
“Fuck, Becca, you scared the shit out of us!” Tammy said, opening the door.
The was Tammy and her younger cousin Ariel. They were both wearing skin-tight black tube dresses and wiping their noses. “I thought you were a fucking cop or something,”
Rebecca laughed and considered asking them for a bump, but decided she needed to keep her head on straight.
“Nope, just the bride-to-be, checking on her delinquent friends. What are you two sluts doing in here?”
The two of them giggled and straightened themselves up, putting away their little plastic baggie of white powder and pulling the collar of their dresses up to cover their generous cleavage. “We’re just trying to make this party bearable!” Tammy said with
Rebecca frowned. She didn’t want to throw a shitty party, but she didn’t want to freak her in-laws out either. Looking at Tammy and Ariel, though, she knew those two would have fun no matter where they were.
“At least the stripper looks hot. I saw him in the parking lot. Do you think it is going to be like in those videos we saw online? Where a bunch of Karens all flip out and start sucking cock right in front of each other?”
Rebecca’s eyes widened. There was a stripper? She realized that must be Cynthia’s surprise. She wondered if what Tammy described was possible. She had seen Cynthia downing rosé all night. For a moment Rebecca imagined her leggy blonde sister-in-law on her knees like a Girls Gone Wild video and the idea wasn’t horrible.
“I doubt it,” Ariel said. “It’ll be like Magic Mike, if we’re lucky.” With that, the three of them fixed their lipstick and rejoined the party.
Back in the main room, the walls sparkled as a disco ball twirled and ABBA’s Dancing Queen played. Cynthia and her best friend Carly danced together, laughing and singing along.
Rebecca walked through the small crowd. There were about twenty people, half of whom were her friends and half were her fiance’s friends and family. Tammy and her cousin joined the girls at one end of the bar and Rebecca made her way next to Cynthia.
“Oh good, you’re back! You’re just in time for the entertainment!” She said, as the music died down and the cheesy DJ’s voice came over the speakers.
“Alright, Ladies! We noticed it was getting pretty hot in here. So hot, we thought it was a good idea to call someone. So welcome to the stage, Frankie, the hottest fireman in town! Let’s give him and his big hose a hand!”
A raunchy techno beat came on and the lights turned bright red and yellow. A tall college-aged guy came out in what looked like a firefighter Halloween costume. Rebecca rolled her eyes, but kept a smile plastered on her face. Cynthia screamed and most of the women rushed the little stage that had been erected in the center of the place.
His shirt quickly came off, followed by his pants, followed by everything else until all he wore was a skin-tight red speedo and a red fire hat. Rebecca tried to feign disinterest, but he was beautiful. Tall, broad-shouldered, thick, and muscular. Built like a football player. She found herself moving closer to the stage along with everyone else.
As Tammy had guessed, it was much more Magic Mike than porn. He danced and gyrated and winked at the crowd. People stuffed money in his underwear and hooted and hollered. Cynthia even touched his abs as she knelt down and offered himself to her.
It was stupid, the whole stripper thing. Who wanted to see some weird stranger gyrating and humping a chair? Rebecca shook her head as she watched, but couldn’t deny what was happening to her body. The guy was hot, that was for sure, but it was also seeing all the women around her go nuts, reach for him, touch him, blush, and scream. There was a wild energy that swept her up. She found herself reaching for him. She found herself hyper-aware as the other women pushed against her, trying to reach him. It was all getting her turned on.
Yet just as the crowd seemed to reach some kind of climax, the music stopped and the DJ’s voice rang out again. “Alright, let’s give it up for Fireman Frankie! He’ll be out for another four-alarm round in a few minutes, but keep the energy going as we get ready for the limbo contest!”
Rebecca’s worked-up body and mind weren’t up for limbo. They needed something else. When she bumped into Cynthia she put her fake smile back on. “Oh my god, this is the best party ever! Thank you so much for setting all of this up!”
Cynthia glowed in drunken joy. “Of course! You deserve it! Enjoy!”
Rebecca nodded and they hugged. Rebecca found herself holding her soon-to-be husband’s sister a little too close. The smell of her perfume and the heat of her body were addictive. She pulled herself away. “I got to get some air before the games!” She laughed to Cynthia, who nodded, smiled, and waved.
Rebecca stumbled her way through the crowd, dodging Tammy and the others, until she got to the door in the back of the club that led out to the parking lot.
The night was mercifully cool and quiet. The sky was purple, the sun having just set. Rebecca desperately wanted a cigarette, but didn’t have any on her. She looked around for someone to bum one off of and ran right into Fireman Frankie.
“Fuck, you scared me,” she said, hearing her Jersey accent come back as she was away from the crowd.
“Sorry, I needed to get out of there. Those girls are getting rowdy,” he said.
Up close, he looked younger. Maybe a college freshman or something. Rebecca looked him up and down and then looked around. They were in a sort of loading dock area, which was empty.
“You got some moves, but I’m guessing you haven’t done this long, have you?” She asked, walking up to him, while looking him over again.
He was wearing gray sweatpants and a tank top. His firm muscles were still visible. He shrugged, looking dopy and hot.
“Only my third show, but these rich chicks offered me like double the going rate. I figured, what the fuck. How’d you get in this swanky party?” He said, speaking in an equally rough Jersey City accent.
“How’d I get in? I’m the fuckin’ bride-to-be!” She said with a laugh. His eyes widened.
“No fuckin way! I’m Frank by the way. So you’re Rebecca? Like on the big ‘Congratulations Rebecca’ sign?”
She shrugged. “Becca. Yeah, I’m marrying up. These rich girls are paying for everything.”
He nodded, for the first time looking her up and down. Her back instinctively straightened and she pushed her tits out.
“Not bad. Not bad. You’re a girl who knows how to get what she wants,” he said with a smile.
“I usually get what I want, but these rich girls don’t know anything about hiring strippers. You didn’t even take this monster out and swing it around like the videos I’ve seen,” Rebecca said, with a lewd smile, reaching over and grabbing the thick bulge in his sweatpants.
Frank swallowed and raised an eyebrow. “Jesus, you’re a little slut, ain’t you? You’re getting married tomorrow and your family and friends are right on the other side of that door,” he said with a laugh, grabbing her arm, but not pulling her hand away.
“I don’t give a shit. This whole thing is getting me all wet and horny. Why don’t you take advantage of it? We can both get what we want.”
“I want to get paid, honey. I got a fat check and a fat tip waiting for me. I’m not blowing it for a little fun with some bored rich girl.”
She cut her eyes at him and squeezed his cock harder. “I’m not a rich girl, asshole. At least not until tomorrow. I grew up in fuckin’ Jersey City. I know how to party, unlike those stuck-up cunts inside. Now you want to get this big cock wet or what?”
She walked over to the loading dock and bent forward, sticking her ass out, then she slowly pulled her skirt up until her big ass popped out of it. Her panties were a tiny black thong and she arched her back as she pulled the crotch to the side.
“Come on!” She whined, bratty and demanding. “You can fuck my ass if you want, but my pussy is nice and wet. You’ll slip right in. You can even come inside me if you want. It’d be kind of hot walking down the aisle tomorrow,” she said with a growl of a laugh.
Frank was studying to be a sports agent and was funding his education through various jobs, both legal and illegal. He’d sold two girls an eightball of coke on his way to the party, in fact. He usually kept his head in the game when at a job, but the little slut in front of him had really hit all of his buttons.
He swallowed and walked towards her instinctively. He could smell her wet pussy, mixed with champagne and perfume. His big dick was throbbing in his sweatpants, making a tent in the gray fabric.
“Mm, that big cock wants out. I can see it. Come on, just slip it in for a second. I won’t tell nobody. I can be your good little slut who you can fuck during your break between dances.”
He shook his head. He knew he shouldn’t, but suddenly he was right behind her big ass, staring down at her shaved pussy. She looked back at him over her shoulder and leaned down lower, slipping her fingers between her legs.
“Are you going to fuck me already or do I just have to rub one out myself while you watch? The least you could do is pull out that big cock and give me something to look out while I finger myself.”
He growled, walking closer, his eyes glued to her fingers as they rubbed in circles around her clit. He knew he might regret it, but that pussy looked too inviting. He pulled his sweatpants down a little and let his rock-hard cock spring out of it.
“Yeah, do it! Please! I’m begging for it. Pleeeeaase. I’ll do anything you want!” She said, still rubbing herself and pushing her ass back towards him. He grabbed her hip and steadied her with one hand and slapped his cock against her wet cunt once.
“Yes! Please! More!” She whined.
As his cock slipped into her pussy, raw and wet, he groaned out loud. He reached forward and wrapped his fist in her hair and pulled her up by it. He fucked her like that, both of them standing in the empty loading dock. He reached up and grabbed her big tits.
“You’re just a little whore, aren’t you? If it wasn’t me out here, you would probably have fucked one of the busboys or barbacks, wouldn’t you?” He whispered in her ear.
“Probably. Any fat cock would do. Maybe when you’re done the rest of the staff can have a turn,” she laughed.
He reached up and grabbed her throat. “No, I think I like having you all to myself right now. My personal little fuck toy between sets. I might need you to come out after my second dance so I can use your ass like you said. This pussy is good, I wondered how much tighter your ass is,” he said, slowly closing his hand around her throat.
She moaned and squirmed against him, pushing her ass back against his thrust. His big dick deep inside of her. “You can use my ass. You can use me any way you want. I can be a good slut for you. I can take every load you want to pump into me,” she said, whispering obscenities and dirty promises until his hand tightened so much she couldn’t talk or breathe.
He fucked her hard as he choked her and her hands came up to his bulging arms, pulling at them as the fear rose up inside of her. After a few tense moments, he let her go and he could feel her growing even wetter from the danger.
“Jesus, you’re soaked. Are you going to come just from getting choked? What a stupid fucking whore,” he said, trying to laugh, then the pleasure pushing him into a new level of pleasure.
She coughed and sputtered, unable to say anything, only able to push herself back against his cock. His strong hands came back and her eyes flashed with fear as he choked her again.
“Come on my cock and maybe I’ll let you breathe again, you little slut,” he said, pounding into her furiously as his fingers tightened.
She saw a flash of white just before she came. From the back door of the restaurant, Cynthia, standing in a rectangle of light. Her dress was pulled up and she was furiously fingering herself with one hand as she recorded everything with her phone in the other hand.
The stripper let Rebecca’s neck go and she gasped for breath, just as he grunted and pumped his come into her as he slammed into her again.
Rebecca passed out for a moment. From the orgasm of the choking or the shock or everything at once. The stripper caught her and after a blurry moment, she shook off the daze.
“That’s again for doing this, Frank,” Rebecca heard Cynthia say in a hushed town. She saw her sister-in-law hand Frank a wad of cash.
“Now, you keep watch. We can’t have her going back to the party dripping come all over the place!” Cynthia said with a little laugh. Then she got down on her knees and pushed Rebecca back against the loading dock. Rebecca tried to ask what was going on, but she was soon silenced by the overstimulation of Cynthia’s hot mouth on her dripping and abused pussy.
“Damn, rich girls are fucking crazy,” Frank said, taking his own phone out of his pocket and snapping a picture.
Rebecca was going to correct him, tell him that she wasn’t a rich girl, but Cynthia was quickly showing her that rich girls knew how to have fun too.