My Hen Party

bysophiewilliams©

I was only twenty-four when I accepted my husband's proposal of marriage. It was during a wonderful, romantic holiday in Mexico. We were walking along the star lit beach, gentle sounds of the waves crashing on the shore, the silky white sand beneath our feet before he quickly dropped to one knee and proposed. I accepted immediately of course, and then a year later we were married. But before the wedding, came my hen party in Magaluf, Majorca.

I love the waft of hot air you receive when you first step off a plane in a warm climate, and Palma airport on the Spanish Island of Majorca was no different. It was nearing nine-thirty in the evening local time when we touched down from the UK, and our little gaggle of eight hens was jumping about as if the cabin were our cage, waiting to be released.

After a tiresome hour long trip on the shuttle bus we eventually reached our hotel in the party resort of Magaluf. Despite its reputation for being a bit wild with young Brits running around the place like drunken, sexed up idiots my husband to be whole heartedly trusted me. Besides he had a long weekend in Amsterdam for his stag party the month before, so he could hardly complain.

We were booked into four rooms with two hens to a room. I being the bride was naturally paired with my maid of honour, Hannah. How we remained best friends I have no idea as we have turned into complete opposites. We were both party girls, but unlike me Hannah thought the only thing wrong with cheating was getting caught.

Sure enough on that first night Hannah pulled a handsome young guy, who happened to be in the same hotel as us, and spent most of the early hours in his room.

As I led there drunk, alone in my bed on that first night I couldn't help but wonder what Hannah was getting up to. I gently slid my hands inside my pyjama top, massaging and caressing my breasts before thoughts of my fiancé entered my mind. Oh how I missed him already. I just wanted to feel him cuddle up behind me. Have him caress, touch and kiss me softly. I desperately wanted to slide my hands inside my panties but we made a pact before our respective stag and hen parties, no sex or masturbation until the wedding night.

The following morning we all led out by the pool, working on our tans as we discussed the previous evening's antics. Hannah casually sunbathing topless held nothing back as she described her sordid night of sex. We all laughed, encouraging her but it somehow made me miss my fiancé even more.

The next few days and nights were pretty much the same. Some of the girls copped off but only Hannah was going further with the men she met.

But she respected our room and never once took anyone back there. Most of the time was just us girls having fun.

The last night was fancy dress night. The theme was naughty schoolgirls. Even though I was the hen I didn't get a special uniform, but I didn't want to disappoint either. I wore a white blouse that was a little too tight around my curves, but I liked it and so did Hannah as my 32C bust looked two busts bigger. I also put on a short black pleated school skirt that came a few inches above my knees. Whilst some of the girls opted for fishnet stockings and ripped tights I decided to show off my freshly shaven legs, but I did slip into a sexy black pair of heels. I also decided on my old black and red school tie, but unlike my old school uniform I wore the tie loosely around my neck with a couple of buttons undone, revealing my impressive cleavage.

I'd had a great time thus far but I really missed my fiancé. Tonight I wanted to feel sexy. Giving myself the once over in the mirror I smiled at my slutty make-up and felt hot.

Our last night was proving to be the best night. We all looked great and turned many heads, mostly male. The drink flowed and as men approached us Hannah fended them off, for once. Tonight was my night she said as we danced from bar to bar. Each bar we entered was followed by a free shot for the hens and I must have tasted every flavour under the sun before I eventually started to feel the effects.

As the music pumped through the club we had ended up in I became aware of how drunk I was. My head was starting to spin, I had hands grabbing at my arse and breasts as I danced and I knew I had to get out of there. I turned around in search of Hannah or anyone from my group but I found no one. In amongst the dancing and laughter I had managed to become separated from the girls.

Fighting through the crowd I approached the bar to see if I could find anyone, but none of the girls were there. I couldn't search any longer, I had to go outside and get some fresh air.

Once outside I crossed the road from all the bars and restaurants and walked towards the sea. The closer I got to the water the darker it became, but I felt so drunk and the cool Mediterranean breeze was doing wonders for my head I just carried on a littler further before finally sitting down on the sand.

For a moment it felt like I was back in Mexico with my fiancé. I closed my eyes and listened to the gentle crashes of the waves once more. I imagined that I was lying on that very beach.

As I began to drift with my thoughts, easing the pain my drunkenness was causing me, I felt my fiancé kiss me softly on the lips. It felt so real lying there feeling his soft lips touching mine before moving down onto my neck. A sigh escaped my lips, signalling my enjoyment.

I then felt him, his hand warm on my knee and then on my leg as he continued to kiss my neck and ear lobe. He then moved back to my mouth and we continued kissing as I felt his hand slide between my legs rubbing my inner thigh.

"Don't stop." I mumbled, sinking deeper into the sand as if my dream were real.

Then, a strange sensation on my chest left me feeling confused. To make matters worse I thought I could hear male whispers close to my side. It didn't sound like my fiancé but I couldn't open my eyes to see.

Suddenly I realised it was my blouse and the buttons on my blouse being opened. I counted as each one was delicately pulled apart, still I could not open my eyes. Was I dreaming? I thought.

It seemed to take forever before my blouse was eventually pulled apart and the sea air rushed against my hot skin. I felt fingers touching me as they slid softly across my body. Touching my tummy and chest back and forth, igniting my senses.

The fingers quickly turned to palms and I felt them running smoothly over my bra before stopping to cup each breast. The cups soon turned to caresses and I enjoyed the feeling as my heart began pumping faster and I felt my panties getting wet. Then the hands became heavier and a little rougher as if there were two or three hands feeling me. I found it hard to concentrate as the sensations between my legs drove me wild.

As I lay there it was like two mouths were kissing me, as if each kiss was a different person. Then a hand went inside my bra, my nipples stiffened as the feeling grew stronger and stronger.

Eventually my eyes opened but only slightly. I was shocked as my fears were confirmed and there were two sets of hands and two people groping me. I quickly realised that it wasn't my fiancé and that I wasn't dreaming. The two men spoke in a foreign language which I knew wasn't Spanish. It sounded Arabic, Turkish maybe?

When they saw my eyes open one of the men quickly kissed me as the other placed his hand between my legs again, rubbing my inner thighs. I tried to protest but I was powerless and remained quiet as his hand worked its way under my skirt and into my panties. The guy kissing me put his hand back inside my bra, and despite my inner cries to stop it felt good, too good.

I led lifeless on the sand, a foreign tongue in my mouth, foreign hands flicking my pussy and groping my breasts. I tried to muster the energy to speak, to protest even, but as my jaw fell open I felt a sharp pain before a different sensation took over. Knowing something was very wrong I managed to open my eyes and lift my head.

Slowly coming round I saw there were more than two guys but I couldn't count. I had hands on my chest, removing my bra as I seemed to rock up and down as if I were on a boat. As I tried to work out what was going on I suddenly realised my legs were being held up a few feet above the sand, and there, kneeling between my legs was an Asian man, his face all screwed up as if in pain.

Suddenly the rocking stopped and he moved away letting my legs fall to the floor with a crash. I felt nothing, but amongst the laughter around me I noticed his cock was very hard with some sort of fluid dripping from the end of it. He then repositioned himself between my legs before I realised it was a different man. He lifted my legs and I felt another shove enter my body.

Again I wanted to say something but I suddenly became distracted as someone knelt beside my face moving his hand wildly back and forth. Squinting my eyes for a better look, my face and breasts were quickly covered in something hot and sticky. More laughter followed before another person stepped over me and dropped to his knees, squatting above my chest.

"Open mouth." I heard a foreign accent say.

"What ..?" I managed to mumble before something small but hard was shoved between my lips. I began to choke as hot liquid, I thought tasted familiar, spewed to the back of my throat, forcing me to swallow whatever it was.

Then I heard a grunt and for the second time the rocking stopped. This time I felt my legs crash to the sand as the man stepped away. I noticed his cock was also hard as I felt something wet, very wet between my legs. It felt as though something was oozing out of me.

Unable to keep my head up any longer I fell back on the sand and pulled my blouse back across my chest. The men's laughter and foreign accents faded as they left me alone on the beach. I rolled onto my side and curled up into a ball as I began to slowly realise what had just happened.

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