What I Did with the Stripper at Antonella’s Bachelorette Party

I met Antonella when I had just graduated from university and she had already been working for two years at the office where I got my first job. We shared a desk, lunches in the cafeteria downstairs, and the occasional insignificant secret. Then I changed jobs, she changed boyfriends, and the friendship faded away like those conversations that end without a goodbye.

That’s why I was so surprised by the invitation to her wedding. It arrived by mail four months before the date, in a cream-colored envelope with handwriting that wasn’t hers. I was about to make up some excuse, but that week I had broken up with Tomás after three years, and my best friend had stopped speaking to me over a stupid fight about a comment I don’t even remember. So I confirmed I’d be there. I needed to get out of my house and, above all, get out of my head.

A month before that, I got the other invitation: the bachelorette party. Antonella texted me as if nothing had happened between us, as if the four years of silence were some administrative detail. “Come, Caro. I need you there,” she told me. I believed her, even though I shouldn’t have.

***

The bar they rented was on a pedestrian street downtown, with dark curtains over the windows and a door that only opened with a code. I arrived at eight on the dot, in a short black dress I’d bought that very afternoon and red heels I hadn’t worn in years. I didn’t know anyone except Antonella, but the girls already inside welcomed me as if I were family.

—You must be Carolina —said a very tall blonde, taking my arm—. Ant talked a lot about you. Come on, I’ll get you something strong.

The bar had four long tables arranged in a U, all decorated with colored balloons shaped like things I’m not going to describe. There was a tray of cookies shaped like male torsos, champagne glasses, and a piñata that clearly wasn’t for children. Antonella was in the middle of it all, wearing a sash that said “the last free night” and a face already a little pink from alcohol.

I sat between two girls who introduced themselves as the groom’s sisters. One of them, Lucía, had that contagious laugh that makes you laugh without knowing why. The other, Bianca, was quieter but looked at you with an uncomfortable intensity. Both of them had a little over half a bottle of wine in them.

The first game was innocent. A box with questions, all aimed at Antonella, about her sex life with her future husband. The answers got more and more explicit: how he liked to get sucked best, how many times she’d come in one night, whether she liked it more from the pussy or the ass. The laughter turned outrageous. I drank in silence, letting myself be swept up in the atmosphere. It had been a long time since I’d laughed like that, and a long time since I’d felt my panties get wet just from hearing about other people’s cocks.

The second game raised the stakes. A cloth bag with toys inside: you had to put your hand in, identify the object only by touch, and describe it out loud without taking it out. When it was the turn of a redhead named Renata, she pulled out a dildo the size of my forearm, showed it to the table, lifted her skirt, and pressed it between her legs while we all laughed helplessly. Then she took it to her mouth, sucked it down to the base with her eyes rolled back, and pressed it back over her panties, thrusting her hips as if it were really being shoved into her. The whole table howled.

What happened after that was no longer a joke.

***

By eleven at night, two of the girls were kissing against a pillar at the back of the bar, tongue and all. One had her hand shoved under the other’s dress, and from the movement of her wrist anyone could tell she was fingering her cunt. Another had taken off her bra and was dancing alone in the middle of the room, her breasts bouncing under violet light, nipples standing up and shining with sweat. Alcohol and complicity had dissolved any sense of modesty. I didn’t dare go that far, but I was already soaked just from watching, with the fabric of my panties stuck between my lips. It was as if I’d been dropped into someone else’s dream and no one had told me the rules.

Just before midnight, a girl standing on a chair asked for silence.

—Antonella, darling, your gift has arrived —she announced, microphone in hand.

The lights went out. A song started playing with a thick, almost physical bass that you could feel in your chest. The back door opened and three men came out in boxer briefs, lined up, with the steady stride of people who know every pair of eyes belongs to them.

I looked at them one by one. The first was red-haired, with tattoos running down his arms and a bulge already marked thick under the fabric. The second was blond, with a swimmer’s body and a cock you could tell was heavy, hanging to one side. The third one took my breath away.

He was tall, very tall. Dark skin shining under the colored lights. Broad shoulders, carved abs, arms that looked sculpted. His head was almost shaved, he had a half-smile, and his eyes moved around the place with a calm that didn’t fit the noise. The black boxer briefs were stretched tight in front by a bulge that seemed impossible, a sleeping cock still outlined completely against the fabric. When he stopped in front of Antonella to do her first dance, I couldn’t look at anyone else.

—Close your mouth, Caro —Lucía whispered in my ear, laughing—. You’re going to drool all over the table.

The routine kept getting hotter. The three of them danced individually with the bride, then with other girls, and little by little the touching stopped being just choreographed. Hands roaming torsos, fingers slipping under waistbands, compliments that stopped being funny and became blunt. The blond already had a girl sitting on his thigh, rubbing her cunt against him while he bit her neck. The redhead was letting a brunette pull down his boxer briefs while she ate his mouth. I was still sitting there, with an empty glass in my hand, clenching my thighs to hold back the urge, feeling my heart in my throat and my pulse pounding between my legs.

When he—my favorite—finished kissing a brunette leaning on the bar, after he’d shoved his tongue down her throat and one hand inside her neckline, I saw him straighten and look around for the next one. That was my moment.

I got up before I even thought about it. I crossed the six meters between us with trembling legs and heels clicking on the floor. When I reached him, I didn’t say a word. I put my hands around his neck, pulled his head down a little, and kissed him. His lower lip was hot, soft, salty. He kissed me back calmly, as if he’d known all along I was going to come to him. I slipped my tongue in without permission and he sucked on it slowly, unhurried, letting me take the lead.

When I pulled away, I took one hand down to his boxer briefs and rested my palm over what he had between his legs. It was hard and huge. I squeezed his cock through the fabric and felt it throb against my fingers, thick, very long, the tip already pushing up over the elastic. I ran my hand over him from top to bottom with my palm open, measuring him, and got even wetter.

—I love the cock you’ve got there —I told him, looking him in the eyes—. I want you to fuck me with it.

He gave a low laugh and squeezed my waist with one hand that covered half my back. Before letting me go, he slid his palm down to my ass and squeezed hard, leaving his fingers marked on me. I left him standing there, turned around, and went back to my chair with my pulse beating in places I didn’t know could pulse. Lucía punched me on the shoulder and shouted something I didn’t manage to make out.

***

Ten minutes later, the boxer briefs were gone. The girls had been tugging them down amid laughter and shoving, and the three men were left naked in the middle of the room. The one I had kissed had a cock in proportion to the rest of his body: long, thick, dark, with a prominent vein running along the top all the way to the swollen, shiny head. His balls hung heavy, shaved, pressed against his groin. I felt my mouth go dry and everything else get soaked. My panties could no longer hold it; I could feel them drenched against the seat.

Another game started, or rather, what was left of any game. The girls took turns sucking the strippers’ cocks, and the strippers answered with compliments, hands in hair, professional but not entirely faked moans. The redhead had Renata blowing him with both hands, spitting on the tip and swallowing him so deep tears were springing to her eyes. The blond was getting his balls licked while another girl jerked him off with both hands, his load already showing at the tip of the head. One girl knelt in front of my favorite and started taking him into her mouth with an anxiety I understood perfectly: she grabbed his cock with both hands, wrapped her lips around it, and swallowed him halfway with wet, slurping sounds, drooling all over his shaft. I moved closer, sat on the floor beside her, and ran my hand up his thigh, never taking my eyes off his face. With my other hand I grabbed the base of his cock and held it while the other girl kept sucking him, and when she had to breathe I took advantage of it to run my tongue over his balls.

When it was my turn, I didn’t wait for an invitation. I knelt down, grabbed his cock with both hands, and started running my tongue over it, slowly at first, then hungry. I licked the whole thing, from base to tip, tracing the vein with my tongue. I kissed his balls one by one, sucked them whole, rolled them around inside my mouth while I jerked him off and looked him in the eyes. I spat on the head and spread it all over his cock with my palm until the whole thing was shining. I wanted him to understand I wasn’t just another girl in line.

Then I took him into my mouth. I started with the tip, sucking hard, making a vacuum. I ran my tongue under the head, along the frenulum, until I felt him tremble. I went down little by little, feeling how he filled me, how my jaw opened. I tried to swallow him whole but didn’t even get halfway: it caught in my throat, I coughed, saliva ran down my chin. I tried again. He took my hair gently, without forcing it, and let me set the pace. I sucked him up and down, letting him hit the back of my throat, choking on purpose. I licked his balls again with his cock resting against my face, kissed them, sucked them, and took him all the way in again. I sucked him until I thought I was going to pass out from arousal, my jaw aching and my cunt leaking under my dress.

—Stay with me —I told him without thinking, my voice hoarse and my lips swollen.

—What? —he asked, bending down a little to hear me better over the music.

—Stay with me. I want you to fuck me all the way.

As I said it, I yanked off my dress and let it fall to the floor. I was left in my panties, breasts bare and nipples standing up, hard as stones. I pulled off my soaked panties and kicked them aside. I was left only with my red heels and the little chain I always wear. I lay back on the nearest table, spread my legs as wide as my hips would allow, and parted my cunt with two fingers so he could see it properly, shining with wetness, swollen, throbbing.

—Please —I said to him—. Put it in me.

***

The shouts of the other girls and the other two strippers became a distant background. He came toward me slowly, still smiling, his cock aimed at me, hard and pressed against his belly. He leaned down to kiss me first. This kiss was different, deeper, with less audience and more intent. He slid one hand down to my clit and started stroking it lightly, with the pad of his middle finger, in slow circles that made my back arch. Then he slid two fingers inside me without stopping rubbing my clit with his thumb. He moved them slowly, curling them upward, and with his mouth he sucked one nipple, then the other, biting them just a little. I was moaning like a madwoman, wiggling my ass against his fingers, until I felt like my ribs were going to come apart.

—Put it in me now —I begged him.

He stood between my legs, grabbed my thighs, and settled himself. He ran the head of his cock over my vulva, up and down, getting it nice and wet, tapping my clit with the tip. When he pushed it in, he did it carefully. I thought he was going to go slowly because he knew he was big and the difference between us was obvious. He pushed in only the tip, and even that felt like he was opening me up completely. He looked at me for a response, and when he saw me digging my nails into his shoulders he understood I wanted more. He slid it in little by little, but without stopping, one centimeter at a time, until I felt him all the way inside me, touching places I didn’t know I had. It hurt and I liked it at the same time, a mix I’d never experienced before. I could feel his cock throbbing inside me, thick, heavy, filling everything.

—Oh my God —I gasped—. Yours is so big.

He started moving, first gently, pulling almost all the way out and then pushing back in slowly, letting me feel every centimeter. Then with a rhythm that had my heels pounding against the wooden table. The fucking grew more brutal, more animal. He thrust into me hard, bracing himself on the table with both hands, watching my tits shake with every hit. The people around us were shouting things I could no longer hear. I moaned without shame, without remembering who I was, or where I was, or the four walls I’d glanced at when I came in. There was only him, his cock, his hands on my hips, his eyes locked on mine.

—Harder —I asked—. Fuck me harder.

And he did. He grabbed my legs, folded them against my chest, braced himself on the creases behind my knees with all his weight and drove into me until I felt something break inside me in the best possible way. He was fucking me so deep I could feel his balls slapping against my ass with every thrust. I could see his cock going in and out, shining with my juices, and every time he sank all the way in I let out a scream that didn’t belong to me. He fucked me like that until I started trembling all over, until my whole stomach tightened and I came screaming over him, clenching his cock with my cunt in spasms I couldn’t control.

Then he turned me around, put me on my knees on the table, opened my ass with both hands, and kept going from behind. He shoved his cock back into me in one stroke, and this time the moan that escaped me was lower, deeper. He grabbed me by the hair, pulled my head back, and started fucking me as if he wanted to split me in two. He slapped my ass with his open palm, marking me, and I pushed back against his hips asking for more. I saw my own face reflected in the dark glass of a mirror on the wall. My lips were parted, my eyes almost closed, an expression I didn’t recognize. In that same reflection I also saw that huge black cock going in and out between my ass cheeks, my tits swinging, saliva dripping from my mouth from moaning. He brought my hand to my mouth and made me suck two of his fingers; then he took them to my clit and started massaging me while he kept fucking me from behind. I came again, this time with a hoarse cry, collapsing forward onto the table, my cunt squeezing his cock in waves.

—I’m going to come —he said, his voice tight, without stopping to pound into me.

When I felt he was close, I got down off the table and knelt on the floor. I grabbed his cock with both hands and jerked him off quickly, aiming him at my face. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue, looking up at him from below, and I didn’t say a word. He understood. He jerked once, twice more, and finished with a long growl. The first jet hit my forehead and ran down into my eye. The second hit my open mouth full-on, thick, warm, salty. The third painted my chin and neck. The last ones splattered over my tits, sliding between my breasts. I swallowed everything I had on my tongue without taking my eyes off him. Then I grabbed his dripping cock and took him back into my mouth to suck out what was left, down to the last drop. I licked what had landed on my fingers. With two fingers I scooped the semen off my chest and put that in my mouth too. Then I stayed there for a second, kneeling, looking at him, my face sticky, still wearing my heels.

The girls applauded. Antonella was laughing so hard she was crying, wiping her tears with a napkin. The other two strippers had gone off to the side with two different girls and were busy with them: the blond was being ridden by Renata on a chair, rocking on him like she was possessed; the redhead had two girls sucking his cock at the same time, taking turns on the head. The bar smelled of alcohol, sweat, semen, and cunt, of something more intimate that has no name.

***

After that I don’t remember very well. I sat somewhere, they kept serving me something sweet I no longer wanted, and at some point I fell asleep on a couch. When I woke up, the bar was almost empty. Antonella had ordered me an Uber to her place, and there was the very tall blonde waiting for me with a coffee in his hand.

—Did you have fun? —she asked me, with a knowing smile.

—A lot —I answered, and it was true.

I never heard anything else about the strippers. Antonella told me she’d hired them through an agency and didn’t even know their real names. I asked her about him three times before she cut me off with “leave it, Caro, he’s no good for you.” She was probably right. But I looked for him anyway. On social media, on the agency’s website, in every bachelorette photo I saw over the next two years. Nothing.

All I was left with from him was a name I caught in passing when he was getting dressed: Damián. I don’t know if it was his real name or a stage name. I also don’t know whether he told it to me or I just imagined he did.

***

Five months ago, Antonella invited me to her daughter’s birthday party. We talked for a while. I didn’t mention that night. She didn’t either. But before I left, at the door, she grabbed my arm and said quietly:

—If you ever find him, let me know.

I smiled at her. I kissed her on the cheek. I left without answering.

Damián, if this ever reaches you somehow, I’m the girl in the red heels. The one who spread her cunt for you on that table. The one who begged you that night. The one who thinks about your cock when she shouldn’t. Write to me.