The blonde from the bachelorette party chose me

I was invited to that bachelorette party almost by accident. I’d been friends with the bride for years, but I didn’t know any of the other women in the group from Adam. The night before, we’d already said goodbye to her single life in our own way, naked on what was going to be her marital bed, and that’s why I was surprised she insisted so much.

—Why don’t you come? You’ll have a good time —she told me on the phone.

—I’ve got nothing to do with your other friends and your cousins. And with your mother-in-law there, for God’s sake.

—Don’t be silly. I’ve got a surprise for you, and I want you there.

Knowing her, I figured she was setting me up. But her setups usually came from a good place, so I finally gave in.

—All right, you win. I’ll go.

The plan was as typical as they come: dinner in a private room, handing out toys that imitated male sex organs with varying degrees of success, a few drinks so the group could embarrass more than one of us, and an ending with a group of dancers at a strip club. It wasn’t my idea of fun, especially the part about teasing the men, but I could always laugh at the other women’s nonsense. And worst-case scenario, I could drift off on my own and find a place with some atmosphere.

The next night I headed to the restaurant in one of my best war outfits. High-heeled boots, a very short leather miniskirt, a strapless top, a silver choker as my only accessory, and my straight hair loose over my shoulders. I’m a respectable height, with long thighs, a flat stomach, and an ass I know how to use as a weapon. My breasts aren’t huge, but compressed in that top they drew attention. My all-over tan and a face with a bit of personality rounded out the effect.

After the introductions and the obligatory kisses, none of them particularly caught my attention. Besides, they all struck me as terribly straight: none of them set off my radar. There was a bit of everything, the brides and grooms’ friends, cousins on both sides, the aforementioned mother-in-law, and a party-loving aunt among the older women. And they’d all dressed very sexily, showing off bodies that in more than one case were worth the trouble. They were making my mouth water, and I couldn’t make a move on any of them.

Well, except the bride. In a white mini dress with a plunging neckline, like a preview of the wedding dress, she looked absolutely stunning. But this was her night, and I wasn’t going to ruin it by getting affectionate. Early in the evening she managed to whisper in my ear:

—There are still people missing. Don’t stress yourself out too soon.

She knew me so well that she could tell I was already figuring out how to ditch them. I wasn’t about to go home horny without at least trying to get some pleasure.

***

With dinner already underway, a true angel made her entrance into the dining room. A beauty almost too unreal to be true headed straight for the bride and gave her a couple of almost lascivious kisses that, I’m not sure for which of the two of them, made me jealous at once.

—Girls, this is Valeria. A university friend —the bride introduced her.

She was blonde, even a little taller than me, fair-skinned, with a perfect neck held by even prettier shoulders. The tips of her nipples showed brazenly through the silk of the tiny scarf that, tied with thin cords, left her entire back bare. Her jeans looked as though they’d grown right onto her skin. And on her feet she wore very similar high boots to mine.

I must have been staring at her with such a stunned expression that the cheeky brunette beside me gave me an elbow in the ribs. She seemed to be the sharpest one there from the start.

—Don’t be so obvious, you’re drooling —she said with a laugh.

—Sorry.

—No problem, she’s gorgeous. I was looking at her too. What a body.

When it was my turn to give the two kisses, I managed to hold her waist a second longer than necessary, with hands that must have been trembling, and I ran my fingertips over her smooth, bare skin. I still remember that firm sensation the first time I touched her.

I think I spent the whole dinner searching for her eyes above the plates and glasses. And sometimes I felt her gaze fixed on my face or my body.

At last it was time for the gifts. From a very tame “how to dominate a man” book to an enormous, absurdly oversized vibrator that caused a scandal all around the table, especially from the mother-in-law, who turned out to be quite a piece of work.

—Just in case your husband isn’t enough for you —came the comment.

My gift was a lingerie set: a white lace bra and thong, with matching garter belt and stockings, perfect for the wedding day. Valeria’s was a red openwork bodysuit that ended in a thong, with black stockings. Great minds think alike, though I hadn’t dared to go with a color quite so bold. Since we were alone in the private room, we had the bride try everything on and staged an improvised runway show that, because it wasn’t planned, was no less sexy. While the others focused on the garments, Valeria and I looked at the body wearing them.

***

From there, with the bride already dressed again, we went to a cocktail bar, where we spent the time dancing and heating up the crowd. I couldn’t have cared less about the crowd.

—Want to dance? —I asked her, afraid she might turn me down.

—Of course —she answered, taking my hand firmly.

That got me my first dance with Valeria. We made it as sensual and uninhibited as we dared in public. The difference with the others was that they looked out at the room while they danced, and we looked into each other’s eyes, sensing something in one another’s. Her firm thigh, wrapped in the cotton of her jeans, slid between my bare legs. My hands moved over the skin of her back, tracing almost imperceptible caresses that only the two of us knew how to read.

Her forearms circled my neck, stroking the nape of my neck. Her lips left the occasional soft kiss on my shoulders. My hands slid down her waist to where I dared. The brunette from earlier, seeing how things were progressing, gave us a wink and a smile. Maybe I’d been wrong about her and she wasn’t as straight as I’d thought.

On the way to the next bar, the bride threw her arms over our shoulders and, while the others weren’t paying attention, held us back a little.

—I know you want to disappear together, but be patient. I love you both and I know you’re going to have a beautiful friendship.

And, blessing everything that might grow between us with those words, she kissed us both on the lips. Then she pushed us until we were standing side by side in front of her. I’m not going to say she forced us, because we both wanted it, but she made our first kiss happen, soft and almost chaste, in the middle of the three-way embrace. We looked into each other’s eyes with almost total understanding.

It felt like ages we spent drifting from bar to bar without being able to get any closer than allowed to the object of my desire. Sweet torture of waiting, even worse knowing she wanted to get closer to me too.

***

At last we reached the strip club. Some of our companions were already visibly drunk, which didn’t stop them from ordering another round of hard liquor from a shirtless waiter with absurdly exaggerated muscles. The atmosphere was hot in the dimly lit room. The usual hunk in a firefighter costume came out on stage, responding to catcalls by moving closer to the tables. Ours lost his thong when he pulled the bride out to dance, and she, without the least bit of shame, pressed her ass against him until, in a matter of seconds, she had him rattled. The whole room chanted and booed that private performance.

There was a bullfighter who pulled up a mature woman from another table, a little overweight but solid and very attractive, who ended up with her breasts out. And there was, as a novelty, the performance of a spectacular dancer whose hourglass figure would have caught the eye of the straightest man alive. Her beauty managed to keep the room heated up and hold the interest of the only two lesbians present. At last there was something in the show a little more to my taste.

Even so, her swaying only distracted me a little from the bride’s bare legs, pressed against mine, or from Valeria’s sculpted back, seated in front of me. It killed me hearing her voice chatting with the others and knowing her words weren’t for me. Every so often she turned her head to look at me, and I thought I saw a flash of jealousy when the bride’s hand rested on my knee.

With the performance of two other guys, that torture finally ended and we could at last head for the cars. The guest of honor, all innocence and pretending she hadn’t broken a plate in her life, managed to get Valeria, who was from another city, to come sleep at my place. We were driven there in another girl’s car, one who had stayed pretty sober. When we got out to say goodbye, the bride managed to get us alone at the entrance to my building.

—Look, girls. I know you’re going to get along very well. And if there’s another wedding coming up, I want it to be yours —she whispered.

She hugged us tightly, stroking my ass and Valeria’s breasts, and left.

***

Finally alone in the elevator, we threw ourselves at each other with real hunger. I managed to get my hand down inside her jeans and, as I suspected, the tiny thong was no obstacle. It was only a few seconds, but very intense ones.

—At last! —we said in unison, and burst out laughing like crazy.

Behind the door of my apartment, she pinned me against the wall and, before I had time to react, pulled down the neckline of my top, leaving my breasts bare. She lunged at them to suck and nibble them. I didn’t need much to start sighing.

—I’ve wanted to sink my teeth into them all night. It feels like they’ve been calling to me the whole time.

—Then imagine how badly I’ve wanted your ass. The way you move it when you walk has me hypnotized.

Her top didn’t take long to reveal the two treasures it barely hid. Two perfect pale breasts, with pink, rock-hard nipples and an areola so light it barely stood out from the rest of her skin.

—You’re perfect —I murmured.

Almost out of breath, I led her to my bedroom. And there, on the very sheets where our mutual friend had slept a couple of nights earlier, she let herself fall. It seemed only fitting to me to begin what we had right there.

My boots ended up at the foot of the bed. When she lay down with me, she took one of my feet into her mouth and started licking my toes, not caring about the sweat from the whole night. I loved that she wasn’t prissy. Without taking her tongue from my skin, she worked her way up my calf and the inside of my thigh, leaving me nothing to do but sigh.

—I’ve wanted to taste your skin so badly —she said.

It took forever for her to reach the hem of my skirt, which had ridden up to leave my wet thong within reach of her tongue. Through the light fabric I felt the brush of her lips. Then she slid her hand under the leather and pulled the garment off, an identical copy of the one I’d given the bride.

—Well. This thong looks familiar. I’ve already seen one on tonight.

—I bought two —I laughed.

—And the bra and garter belt?

—They’re in that drawer. In case you want to try them on later.

Without another word, she pressed her lips to my sex and sucked my clit until I came hard into her mouth. A little calmer, I managed to strip her completely, kissing her feet when I took off her boots. She helped me finish undressing, because I was a mess with my top around my waist and my skirt bunched up.

—Wow, I didn’t think I’d end up getting tangled up with a nudist. But fuck, it looks so good on you!

—I know a quiet beach where you can be naked. I’ll take you there sometime.

I lay down on top of her to kiss her lips and steal my own taste back, while our bodies came into full contact for the first time without the nuisance of clothes. My breasts on hers, my thighs between hers. I was burning to taste her. I pulled away with terrible effort of will and asked her:

—Sit on my face. I want to lick you.

Kneeling over my shoulders, she slowly lowered her hips until her sex was within reach of my tongue. I did the honors immediately, grabbing her buttocks with my hands as if I were afraid of losing them, spreading them open and sliding my fingers along the groove between them.

—Eat me out, baby. She’s all yours —she panted.

The move seemed to please her, because she rocked her hips to let me keep going. I licked her perineum and played with everything around it. My fingers never left her clit, touching it and making it wet. Now she was the one moaning and sighing, clutching her breasts and pinching her nipples.

—You’re going to melt me. I don’t know how you know what I like —she said almost voicelessly.

I went back to her sex with my mouth just as she came, and kept licking until she did it a second and a third time. She gave herself up with a certain wildness that I loved, like everything else about her. She panted like a locomotive.

***

Worn out from the night, we lay next to each other to rest amid cuddles and caresses, alternating stretches of wild sex with incredible tenderness. She kept gently fingering me while we kissed slowly, and I stroked her breasts.

—How did you two meet? —I finally asked, when we got a relaxed moment to chat.

—We met in a nightclub in my city, on the coast. She was there on vacation for two weeks.

I could picture it perfectly: dressed very sexily, heating up the room with her hips, moving in on her prey: the pale beauty I was now sharing a bed with.

—So, a club hookup. I can’t believe it —I said ironically.

—She was breathtaking, with those high boots and her flared mini skirt. When she pulled me out to dance and I put my hands on her ass, I confirmed she was wearing only a tiny thong underneath.

—I know exactly what she’s like. She doesn’t hold back about anything. But it looks like you don’t either.

—When I like something, definitely not.

And since she said it with one hand between my legs, stroking my clit, I believed her.

I had to tell her how we’d met, at a gay bar, on a bitterly cold winter day. We talked, got to know each other, and she confessed she was bisexual. Comparing dates, we discovered she’d been with both of us almost at the same time: after my winter came her summer. Neither relationship was exclusive, but rather an intense friendship with sex. We found it funny to think that at some point she’d left one woman’s arms to join the other, or her current boyfriend.

—What a little minx. That summer she must’ve been tangled up with half the city.

—But thanks to that, the two of us met —I answered.

All the while, without stopping our caresses for a second. I touched her breasts, which fascinated me; she touched my hips, and we licked whatever skin we could reach without breaking our kisses. We kept telling each other about our lives, work, friends, family. The usual, to get to know each other better. And yet, before we’d even said a word, we already knew we were almost perfectly compatible. That instant attraction could lead us to love, to sharing life and bed. We’d see that with time.

Maybe one day we’d stage that beautiful wedding our shared lover wanted for us. Only in this one there would be two brides and lots of lesbian bridesmaids, friends, and ex-lovers. Incidentally, we had to get dressed, do our makeup, and fix our hair in a hurry to make it to the other ceremony. Helping each other, we managed not to show up too late.