My Wife Wishes She Was Invited to the Bachelor Party

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I’m headed to a bachelor party in a few weeks, and was talking to Rachel, my wife, about our plans. Its the usual tour — bars, strip clubs, day drinking.

Text here. Visuals inside.
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Now the thing about Rachel is that she’s always said how much she wishes she could attend a bachelor party. She hates boring bachelorettes, and has always said that she prefers having guy friends anyways. True to form, almost all of Rachel’s closest relationships are with other men.

Rachel seemed a little let down that she was being left behind, and I teased her about it. We had some wine, smoked some weed and ended up in bed.

The sex started off slow and passionate — making out, grinding, me scooping her tits into my mouth so I could suck and lightly bite her nipples. She took my cock into her hand, stroking me over my boxer briefs.

“Can I give you a kiss, daddy?”

Who can say no to that? Rachel sucked me off, making sure to kiss my cock head down to my shaft, and then taking me back into her mouth.

I groaned as she blew me, my hand lightly placed on the back of her head. I called her a good girl, and Rachel popped my spit covered dick out of her mouth, gave me a mischevious smirk and straddled my cock.

I clawed her ass cheeks and tugged them apart. As Rachel began riding my thick, fat cock, I decided to tease her some more.

“Are you a little jealous you’re not coming to the bachelor party, baby?”

Rachel gasped just the slightest — she knows where I might be going with this this. She told me yes.

“Do you wish I was bringing you?”

Rachel whispers back, a little embarassed: yes.

“Maybe I can find a way to bring you as entertainment.”

“Oh fuck,” she says.

“You can wear that little schoolgirl outfit you like to wear for Halloween. You know, the one with the really short skirt?”

I pinch her ass for dramatic effect.

“The one where everyone can see that you’re not wearing panties?”

“Fuck yes,” she tells me, and I can feel how wet she is. Rachel likes to pull her panties to the side when we fuck, and I can feel the soggy gusset of her thong against my diamond-hard shaft.

“We can lay down the rules with the guys early. They’re not allowed to touch. You can serve us all drinks and be our obedient little waitress. But…you know what we’re like when we drink. We like to break rules.”

In no time at all, Rachel started to cum, holding her breath as she rubs herself against my dick. I keep going, squeezing her ass harder.

“You’ll like it when the best man grabs you, won’t you? When we pull you into our laps, and rip off your shirt.”

Rachel’s fingers dig into my chest, and her cries get more desperate, as she hungrily tries to finish again.

“I’ll let each guy spank you, passing you around. Taking pictures of your skirt flipped up, off your bare pussy…”

“Fuck!!!” Rachel finished again, her body flushed red. I could feel her legs quivering, and I rolled ontop of her to fuck her missionary.

Rachel kissed me hard, and started whispering back to me…

“Please bring me, Daddy.”

“I will.”

“I want to suck their cocks. I want them to finish on my tits, baby.”

Fuck. I could feel myself getting close.

“I want you to let David [the groom’s name] fuck me as a reward. Fill me up like he’ll fill me up, baby.”

That put me over the edge. I collapsed on top of her, my cock gorged and pulsing cum inside of her, a mixture of arousal and shame at the idea of letting my wife be passed around and humiliated by a group of liquored up, drunk men.

I moaned Rachel’s name, as I sprayed my last drops into her soaked pussy, and she kissed me again…and told me that she loved me.

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