The Bachelor Party Where I Was the Gift

I want to write this now that I have a little free time, because after that you never know when you’ll sit down to tell it again. Those of you who follow me already know I live with my older brother and that we ended up as a couple; I also told how my transition began and who stood by me throughout the whole process. What I’m going to tell you happened right in the middle of the hormone stage, when my body was just beginning to become the one I had always wanted.

Those were strange and beautiful months at the same time. Every morning I looked in the mirror and discovered something new: the curves taking shape, the softer skin, the way clothes had started to fall on me differently. I felt like I was finally inhabiting my own body, and that gave me a confidence I had never had before. I walked out onto the street with my head high and I liked being looked at.

My two brothers worked all day. Besides being good men, they were responsible and true to their word, and every now and then they brought friends home. A lot of them saw me walk by, of course, but seeing is one thing and knowing is something very different. One day I was keeping a respectful distance when I heard one of them dare to say:

—Your little sister is really pretty.

I burst out laughing. It was nice to hear that from someone I barely knew, and the others played along with soft compliments. It made me feel good when I wasn’t expecting it.

Time passed, and one afternoon one of them asked if I had a boyfriend. My brothers answered no, that the thing was I had a secret. The others fell silent, intrigued, until the oldest one said it bluntly:

—Well, let’s just say Sasha used to be Santiago.

A strange silence fell. The usual questions started, those that mix curiosity with a bit of confusion, and my brothers calmly explained my whole transition to them. None of them got up from the table. For me, that was already a lot.

Over time I joined their men’s get-togethers. That was why they came over: to drink beer, eat something, watch football, and talk about their stuff. I dressed up as always, in a short skirt and with my hair neatly done; back then I wore it to mid-back, cut in soft layered sections. One of the friends looked at me and said:

—Hey, cutie, do you want one?

—I don’t drink —I told him—, but I’ll keep you company with a soda.

That’s how we spent that afternoon. Out of nowhere my brothers put on music and we started dancing. Imagine the scene: me moving among so many men, feeling the heat of their eyes on me. I got aroused, I admit it, but I held back. I knew my brothers’ friends by sight, not really by acquaintance, and I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.

Those gatherings happened several times. I learned to move among them naturally, to joke around, to return the compliments without going too far. I enjoyed the game of knowing I was desired and at the same time untouchable. I noticed how some of them followed me with their eyes when I got up to fetch more sodas, and how they lowered their voices when I came near. I liked that little power more than I was willing to admit.

***

One day my brothers surprised me with a proposal. They asked me what I thought about giving a bachelor party show to one of their friends. I went cold. I could have imagined it from them, but not from some almost stranger. I had already been with other guys, though always people I knew, people I had some trust with.

—Does he know what I am? —I asked—. And what I have with you?

—He knows everything —they told me.

I thought about it for barely a second and said yes. They told me when it would be, that they would be there, some friends I had already seen once or twice, and, of course, the guest of honor.

The days before it, I couldn’t think of anything else. I imagined the scene again and again, nervous and eager in equal measure. I chose every detail of the outfit carefully, rehearsed the movements alone in my room, and put together the playlist that would set the mood. I didn’t want it to be just any dance; I wanted them to remember that night forever.

On the appointed day I went early to the beauty salon to get ready calmly. I asked for my hair to be set in soft waves, my eyes were lined, and my lips were painted a deep red. I dressed as a sailor girl, with a tiny skirt and long white boots, one of the many gifts my brothers had given me. I looked at myself in the salon mirror and barely recognized myself: I was ready to be devoured. When we arrived at the house, they honked and we went in. Inside, the six friends and the guest of honor were waiting.

I got out of the car and they all whistled at once.

—Wow, how pretty!

—What a doll!

I thanked them between laughs and blew them kisses, letting myself be carried away by the welcome. The adrenaline was already coursing through my whole body.

I had prepared the music on a speaker. I was going to dance to two songs: one for the striptease, a slow, sticky blues, and another dirtier one, with a thick bass and a funk beat, for the part where I would play with a dildo. Two pieces chosen as if they were scenes in a movie. The idea was to take them from curiosity to delirium.

***

I started dancing slowly, emphasizing every movement. I stripped one piece at a time as I moved closer to the guest of honor, who never took his eyes off me. The others were drinking and whispering something in my brothers’ ears, but I was focused only on him. The first song ended with me barely covered and the air in the room thick.

I took the small bag I had brought and the second track started. I pulled out the dildo and brought it to my mouth. I licked it slowly, looking the guest of honor in the eyes, teasing it with my tongue along its length, unhurried. Then I lowered it, guided it between my ass cheeks, and pushed it inside while my hips kept time with the song.

When I had it in, I walked on all fours through the middle of the room.

—What! —one of them shouted.

—Fantastic!

—Uffff!

My brothers were laughing, amused, watching how their friends reacted. Like that, on all fours, I crawled over to the guest of honor. I unbuttoned his pants, pulled down his boxers, and took him into my mouth. I felt him harden against my tongue within seconds.

—Take it out for me —I asked him, and he understood at once and pulled the dildo out of me.

I climbed onto him slowly, feeling him enter me while everyone watched in silence. I moved on top of him until he came inside me with a rough groan. I leaned down and whispered in his ear.

—Congratulations. I hope your girl is obedient; if not, you know where to find me.

And I kissed him on the mouth, slowly, while the others applauded.

***

I put on short shorts that barely covered me and a light blouse, and we all sat down to dinner. There was conversation, laughter, harmless questions. They asked me about my transition, about how the process had been, and I answered with the ease of someone who had already made peace with herself. I finally relaxed with my brothers’ friends and they with me. That night I stopped being the mysterious little sister to them and became just another one at the table.

I always say it laughing: a man is a man. Put a skirt on even a broom and he’ll surely find a way. That living room was living proof of it.

But the night didn’t end there. When we were all loosened up, my brothers and I put on a second show, this time the three of us together. They started by kissing my neck and back, running their hands over me, slowly, as if we had the whole night. I closed my eyes and let myself be carried away by those hands I knew by heart.

From caresses they moved on to more. They fucked me in turns, changing positions, setting a pace that had me completely surrendered. The room had gone quiet, everyone paying attention to every movement, and that silence turned me on even more. I felt their gazes stuck to my skin as if they were another kind of touch.

Until at one point they took me both at once. Feeling them like that, at the same time, tore a moan from me that I couldn’t hold back. I clenched my teeth, closed my eyes, and let myself go completely, without shame, without thinking about who was watching. The friends were still frozen on the sofa, not knowing whether to keep watching or join what was unfolding in front of them.

—Come on —I told them between gasps—, don’t just stay there.

And they came. What followed was a mix of bodies, hands, and mouths that made me lose count of how many times they made me come. The room smelled of sweat and alcohol, and I didn’t care; I was where I wanted to be.

***

When everything calmed down, it was the guest of honor who stayed with me. I spent the night with him, we slept together and sought each other out again before the sun came up. In the morning each of us went our own way, but that night sealed something. To this day we’re still friends; we see each other when we can or when I’m invited, always with a knowing smile between us.

I hope to tell you other experiences later on, taking advantage of the free time I have. For now I’ll say goodbye with this one, which was one of the most memorable for me.

With affection, Sasha.

😘