Betrayal as a means of gaining experience
Well, that's it. The final wedding preparations were over, the cars were booked, the restaurant was paid for, the dress and other little things were taken care of. Tamara recalled the hustle and bustle of the last few days with slight excitement, especially the dress selection. If it weren't for her friend, she really helped her cope with the depression that gripped her when she saw her reflection in the wedding dress. It's good that it was all behind her. Now only the bachelorette party and the wedding itself remained.
Her girlfriends suggested several options for having fun, but she loves her husband, so the two options with a stripper and a private dance were immediately ruled out because, knowing her friends, it wouldn't stop at just dancing.
Tamara decided that the bachelorette party should be something unusual, not depraved. I wonder how her beloved planned his bachelor party? But the story is silent on that.Lizka, her best friend, booked a table in a small cozy cafe, considering it the best starting point for the bachelorette party. And that's where it all started!
At six in the evening, a luxurious car stopped pompously at the main entrance of a Chinese restaurant. From the unfathomable depths of the limousine, eight smartly dressed girls emerged into the light. Moving leisurely towards the entrance, they made so much noise that the few passersby glanced back with slight fright and quickened their pace, causing even greater laughter from the group. The restaurant was indeed cozy. The interior in an Eastern style, combined with the sound accompaniment, created an atmosphere of slight intimacy, unobtrusively forcing them to switch to whispers. Somehow, the topic of sex, love, and ways of expressing them arose naturally.
The married ones began to tell how they celebrated their last days of single life. It was immediately decided to hold an impromptu contest for the best story. The main prize was lying in unmarried Lizaveta's bag, at least that's what she said. Attempts to find out the nature and size of the main prize led nowhere. The only hint was the implication that she herself wanted to use it, but since such a drinking party was underway...
There were only three married friends at the table. Their stories gradually became spicier under the approving glances of the single girls and Lizka's periodic exclamations, declaring another tie. After an hour, Katerina confidently took the lead with a story about a stripper she tried to grab by the dick during a private dance, with the firm intention of making him achieve an erection by all available means. Katerina simply didn't like the sight of a hanging dick that slapped her face unpleasantly from time to time. Her friends barely prevented an act of violence against the poor stripper.
The topic of conversation instantly became the work of male and female strippers, how hard it is for them, poor things. Lizka was about to declare Katyukha the undisputed winner when Marinka's uncertain whisper was half-heard. "I can hardly remember that evening," she began, a little embarrassed. "But what my friend told me in the morning shocked me, to put it mildly," Marina continued just as quietly, as if afraid of being heard. "Everyone was having fun! The friends were going wild, sometimes remembering the guest of honor, and I sat practically sober and, probably because of that, around midnight I decided to go home to my parents, who insisted that my future husband and I live separately for the week before the wedding. That's exactly what played its role later.
Her boyfriend wasn't home, and we, cursing and calling him a goat who can't sit still at home, dragged Verka to the fourth floor. We entered the apartment on the third try of opening the door and immediately dragged her to the bathroom. Lenka was sure that cold water would bring her friend to her senses. Having managed to take only the dress off Verka, I felt the approaching urge to vomit from her young body. A great stroke of luck for us was the presence of a combined bathroom. As soon as Verka's head plunged into the toilet, the alcohol and snacks consumed that evening burst forth. We didn't want to watch it, but we couldn't leave completely either.
The awakened hunger drove us to the kitchen. The refrigerator contained several half-eaten salads, sliced lemon, the picture was completed by three shot glasses on the table and a barely started liter of vodka. Lenka said it all looked like an unfinished banquet and invited me to the table, already set with food. Resigning ourselves to the fate of caretakers, we briskly began to devour the food, washing it down with a fair amount of vodka, which, naturally, affected our hungry bodies. In short, we got drunk. Periodically running to the bathroom to pee, I no longer felt much discomfort due to my problematic days; the tampon helped more or less.
We even laughed at Verka's pose: on all fours, head in the toilet, a thin strip of thong hiding nothing—basically, fuck wherever you want. After probably an hour, the situation hadn't changed: Verka in the toilet, us in the kitchen, only more drunk. I desperately wanted fun, dancing until I dropped, light flirting, but alas, only drinking remained. I woke up in the morning, in a corner, on an air mattress, of course not inflated, with a pump lying next to it. I tried to see all this through the semi-darkness created by the tightly drawn curtains. My head hurt terribly, and I wanted to go to the toilet so badly that I barely made it to the toilet.
The sight was something else. From the mirror, a busty brunette in a dress resembling a strapless top, with disheveled hair and strange dried stains in it, looked back at me. My panties weren't all clean either. It can't be, I had sex yesterday and apparently gave a blowjob. But where and with whom? There were no men. I started filling the bathtub. Some nonsense, my head was empty. Maybe it's Lenka's prank. I desperately clung to this idea and immersed myself in the hot water," Marinka caught her breath, moistened her dry throat with a sip of martini, and fell silent. "And?" Lizka clearly wanted the story to continue. "What next? And then, like in a fairy tale, the further, the scarier.
Enjoying the therapeutic effect of the hot water on my body, I heard approaching footsteps and opened my eyes. A dick was hanging before my eyes. An ordinary, damn, male dick, and its owner, the whole time I was staring at the dick, was staring at me naked in the bathtub. I quickly covered myself as much as possible in such a situation and slid my gaze from the scrotum, through the dick, to the head. A guy of ordinary appearance with swollen eyes was looking at me. "Hello," said the dick and, turning to the toilet, began to urinate. I was in shock and watched, as if spellbound, the ordinary-looking process. Shaking off a drop, he left without turning around, not even trying to close the door. There was rustling in the room, the sound of water gurgling from the kitchen; people were slowly waking up.
A minute later, Lenka appeared. After sitting on the toilet, she climbed in with me. I asked her to remind me of the events of the previous evening. She only remembered that three guys came, one of them was Verka's boyfriend, she had seen the other two for the first time, which didn't stop her from later sleeping with one of them. Verka's appearance made us laugh; she looked like a homeless woman in expensive thongs and a lace bra. "Well, what are you laughing at, bitches?" Vera reacted irritably. "You yourselves behaved like two cheap whores, and you're laughing at me!" she continued.
The smiles vanished from our faces very quickly. I asked Verka to clarify. I wish I had remained in ignorance. She began to tell, enhancing the impression with gestures: "I woke up because my neck hurt very badly. The vomit-filled toilet added to the surprise. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I discovered dried semen in my panties. So Vitek had already taken advantage of my defenselessness, I thought with a smile. While drying myself, I heard characteristic moans and got furious, thinking that my goat was staring at some whore while I was out.
The light from the kitchen illuminated it. My Vitek was sitting naked in the kitchen, drinking vodka in proud solitude, but the moans continued. Peeking into the room, I saw Lenka sleeping across the couch with her panties down and her dress somewhere around her head. Moans were coming from the corner, from behind the couch. Looking closer, I realized that two guys were fucking some girl. Recognizing Marinka by her voice, I was stunned. The ending of the bachelorette party was clearly bringing her pleasure, judging by her loud moans, despite her occupied mouth. The guy taking her from behind was clearly enjoying the process because he constantly admired 'the tight asshole of this sweet slut.' I sat down at the table. Vitek looked at me tiredly with an unseeing gaze. "Honey, you don't mind that Fred and Max brought two whores with them from the sauna? They'll finish soon and leave.
I didn't help them, I love you!" said Vitek and passed out, falling asleep naked on the chair. I was tidying up the kitchen when Fred came in. He was mumbling something incoherent and pointing his hand towards the hallway. Closing the door behind them, I went into the room, covered Marinka with a blanket, Lenka with a sheet, and collapsed to sleep. Well, that's roughly how it all was," Verka finished sadly. I, however, was in deep shit. God forbid someone blabs to my future husband at the wedding or after. It was a complete mess! I didn't know how to get married now and live with this further. All that remained was to forget it as quickly as possible! Forget it like a bad dream!" That was the story. Marinka smiled somewhat guiltily.
Lizka was stunned into silence. She didn't know what to do with such a secret, but she unequivocally awarded her the prize. A heavy silence hung over the table. Each imagined herself in Marinka's place, thought about what they would have done in her situation, and remained silent. Then they whispered, some condemning, some remaining neutral, but all unanimously gave the prize to her. "And only a week after the wedding did they tell me the truth!" Marinka didn't hide her smile. "They told me how long they had planned this prank, what disappointment they felt when I, sober, decided to go home. The friends changed the plan on the fly; one pretended to be drunk, and the other played on pity and, in the end, still got me drunk.
Then they told how Verka extracted semen from the drunk Vitek—he got drunk despite his promise. They considered the critical days a gift; they didn't have to worry about pregnancy. They injected semen into the anus with a syringe, smeared the remainder on the face and hair. They simply made up the guys, and the naked Vitek directed the thoughts in my hungover head in the direction they wanted. For over a year, I didn't maintain relations with them, then I forgave them, but now I try to be the last one to get drunk," Marina finished her story, already laughing openly.
And I sat and thought, where is the truth after all? For some reason, it seemed to me that the sex did happen, and Marina made up the ending, regretting her frankness. The girls began to gradually disperse home; only I, Lizka, and Marina remained at the table. After raising a couple of toasts, Marinka refused the prize and, saying goodbye, left. Liza suggested that Marina decided to end the evening with sex with a couple of guys, which is why she left so quickly. Half an hour later, we were already on our way for the main prize, which went to Liza and me.
The place where the prize was located turned out to be an ordinary nightclub with a dance floor, a bar, and a striptease, but unfortunately, today was ladies' day. A pity, a real pity. After sitting at the bar for a bit, we went to a booth booked in advance by Lenka and ordered martinis and a couple of light salads. The order was brought by two waitresses. They set the table fairly quickly, arranged the order, and asked us to wait a little on the chairs; the cleaner hadn't had time to tidy up the booth. Without thinking twice, we moved to the indicated seats. Pleasant music started playing, a curtain descended, hiding my friend from my sight. The waitress was turning into a stripper before my eyes.
The lace apron was already flying aside. Gracefully writhing, the girl rubbed her body against my nipples, slowly unbuttoning the buttons on her blouse. Imperceptibly, with one movement, she was on my knees, asking with her whole appearance for help in getting rid of the blouse that was bothering her. I accepted the girl's game and relaxed. Slightly arching, the dancer dropped her skirt to the floor, constantly accompanying it with her hands. At the lowest point, she froze for a moment, long enough for me to appreciate her pussy, covered by thin panties, and I did appreciate it, feeling moisture slightly wetting my own panties.
The bra disappeared, and a light touch of nipples to my lips made me flow from intense arousal. The girl felt literally every corner of my body with her magnificent breasts, not ceasing to rub her pussy against my naked thigh—and when did she manage to hike up my dress? And here's the finale: her tiny panties ended up on the floor, and I literally buried my face in her pussy, smelling the scent of a female asking for sex and flowing profusely. I would definitely have licked those swollen lips to feel the taste of this woman, but even moving forward and sticking out my tongue, my attempt was doomed to failure because every barely noticeable movement of her hips made my tongue slip a few millimeters from the coveted goal. The final chord sounded; the girl leisurely and very elegantly gathered her things.
I wanted to continue this dance, but in five minutes she was expected in another booth, and she also needed to take a shower. Leaving, she removed the curtain, and I saw Lizka, or rather, what was left of her. On the chair sat a hungry female with a frenzied look. We slowly sat on the sofa, downed the obligingly poured glasses in one gulp, and merged in a passionate kiss. The dream came true. I still hurriedly ran my tongue over the moist lips, slightly parting them with my tongue, collecting moisture from the pussy to bathe the pearl of happiness of my partner in it. This was the first experience of same-sex love—the incident in the toilet doesn't count—so passionate and very exciting.
Later, in the taxi, Lizaveta admitted that she had long wanted to have sex with a woman. With all the wealth of choice, she chose Tamara because she was her best friend, and who else could she trust with her innermost dream and share a piece of her happiness with.
And the striptease was just an appetizer for the main course. "Lizok, thank you, you are my best friend and will remain so, no matter what!" Tamara got out of the taxi, kissing her friend in gratitude for the excellent bachelorette party, but it was already a friendly kiss, having nothing in common with the kisses in the club. They both knew and understood that well. "Very soon she will become a wife, and she too will have something to tell at her friends' bachelorette parties! Or maybe not!" she thought, with a smile on her face, entering the building entrance.