Bachelorette Party Chaperone Pt. 01

"Why yes, yes I do," I replied and assumed the position: feet flat on the floor, hands on the arms of the chairs to avoid touching the dancer.

"It's twenty for two songs," she said, biting her lip.

I pulled out my wallet and grabbed five twenties. "How long will that get me?"

She leaned forward, with her tits just in front of my face. Her hand reached down and grabbed onto my cock. She smiled. "I'd guess it will get you about seven inches long."

"Seven and a half," I corrected her with a wink.

Amber straddled my legs, and held onto my neck, leaning way back, letting her top fall off. She then rose up and rubbed her breasts on my face, one on each side, then slid them back and forth so that her nipples brushed my lips. I slid my tongue out and flicked her nipples as they passed. She moaned and pulled back out of reach.

"Naughty boy," she said with a whisper. "You know you aren't supposed to do that." I was just about to apologize when she grinned and added, "Out here, anyways."

I smiled. "What's that mean?"

She rubbed her pussy against my hardon, with only a few layers of cloth between us. She put her mouth next to my ear and whispered, "If you take me to a private room, you can do anything you want."

I froze. I've been to strip clubs many times in my life. I was fine with naked women all around me. I was fine with lap dances. I knew a lot of my buddies had no reservations about taking a girl to the VIP rooms and having sex. They didn't consider being with strippers as cheating. To a point, I agreed, but for me, that point was crossed when dicks came out of their pants and went into another woman's body parts. That I was not fine with.

"I would really just like to stay here and hang out," I told her. "If that's not too boring for you."

She grinned. "Not at all, but I can only stay for two more dancers, then I have to get ready for my next set. The only way I can stay longer is if you take me to a private room."

"Well, how much is a private room?" I asked.

"It's two-hundred for fifteen minutes."

I was really tempted, more than ever before in my marriage. I kept thinking about my wife in New Orleans, doing God only knows what. I kept seeing that middle-aged chaperone in the video bent over the table, taking on a train of men, one after the other, and imagining it was Maggie. Maybe she had a strange cock in her pussy by now. It would serve Maggie right for me to fuck Amber. Right?

Amber was here. Amber was gorgeous, and she was naked. Not only that, but she was willing, well for two-hundred bucks, anyway."

But I couldn't do it.

"I'll think about it," I told Amber as I popped open another beer for each of us. She stayed on my lap, grinding and writhing, doing everything she could to make it as much fun for me as sex, just with our clothes on. I nearly came twice but didn't want to blow my load in my pants, so I had to get her to slow down. Finally, she must have realized what was up, and she moved so that she was straddling one of my thighs. She squeezed it tightly and ground her hips, rubbing her pussy against my leg.

She rubbed a nipple on my mouth and kept it there. I opened my mouth, and she pushed it inside. I began to suck. Amber moaned and held onto my head tightly as she bucked on my thigh. Suddenly she tensed, and her whole body stiffened. She didn't breathe or move for several seconds, and then she shook, hard, once... twice... three times.

She took a deep breath and kissed me on the lips. "Oh fuck, I just came!" she declared. I could feel the wetness coating my thigh.

"Damn," was all I could say. I wanted to fuck Amber so badly right then. Fortunately for my marriage, the MC called out her name over the PA system.

"Amber," his booming voice called out, "Amber to the dressing room in five minutes."

She pouted, "I have to go get ready. Are you going to stick around and watch me dance again?"

"I'm not going anywhere," I assured her.

"Good," she said. "I want those seven and a half inches inside me when we get back. We're going to the private room if I have to drag your ass there."

I didn't answer. I just stared at Amber as she got up and put her robe back on. She leaned over and kissed me, whispering in my ear, "I won't have to hold my orgasm in like that when we're back there."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She walked away, and I downed what was left of my beer and opened another. TJ was giving me a shit-eating grin. He had a ragged looking stripper on his lap, you know the kind that looks like Meth addicts that I dislike.

"What?" I asked.

"She seemed to like you," TJ said as he played with Meth-heads nipple.

"I noticed," I replied.

I pulled my phone out and checked for any message. There wasn't one.

I typed a message and hit send.

Me: Who won?

It took a couple of minutes to get a reply.

Maggie: Stephanie won first. Trina got second.

I wondered what they had to do to place that highly.

Me: What place did you come in?

Maggie: Didn't compete. In that one.

Wait a minute. What the fuck did that mean?

Me: In that one? Did you compete in something else?

Maggie: Maybe. Promise not mad.

Me: What was it?

Maggie: Not until you promise.

Me: I promise. What was it?

I waited, but there was no response. After a few more seconds, the phone buzzed, and a video clip appeared. There was a line of women on stage again, this time facing the audience. The MC stood by the first girl, who had on a t-shirt and pair of shorts. He held his hands under her boobs, and the crowd cheered. She shook her titties back and forth. They looked to be around 36 or 38 D-cups. It did NOT look like she had a bra on.

I could make out the MC's voice shouting to the crowd, "More? More?"

Then the girl pulled the t-shirt up and exposed her tits to the loud cheers of the audience. I scanned down the line of women. Stephanie was third, followed by my daughter Trina. Next to Trina stood my wife! The clip ended.

Maggie: Still not mad?

Me: Did you show your tits to the bar?

Maggie: Too scared. Not drunk enough.

Maggie: Made it to round two.

Me: Round 2??? What does that mean?

I waited.

She didn't reply.

I fired back several texts and called, but she didn't reply to any. I tried to call again, and it went straight to voicemail. Every call after that did so as well.

Fuck!!

"Ladies and Gentlemen, put your hands together for the sexy Amber!" the PA guy said in his typical stripper MC voice. Why do they always sound the same? Do they go to stripper MC school?

I watched as Amber came out, dancing seductively to the sound of the Scorpions' Still Loving You. I was mesmerized.

At some point, the lyrics hit me.

"Fight, Babe, I'll fight to win back our love again. I will be there. I will be there."

My mind went to Maggie. What was she doing?

"Love, only love, can break down the wall someday. I will be there. I will be there."

Was she cheating on me? Was my marriage over? What the fuck was going on?

"If we'd go again, all the way from the start, I would try to change the things that killed our love. Your pride has built a wall so strong that I can't get through. Is there really no chance to start once again? I'm loving you."

Amber winked at me.

I looked at the video of Maggie on stage. I watched Amber swinging around the pole as she slowly shed bits of her clothing. My heart was breaking. My cock was rock hard. The music built to a crescendo.

"Yes, I've hurt your pride, and I know what you've been through."

"You should give me a chance."

"This can't be the end."

"I'm still loving you."

I stood up and looked around for the guys. Half of them were off in the private rooms or who knows where. The rest were busy getting lap dances from strippers.

"I'm still loving you."

I gave Amber one last look then headed for the door.

"I need your love! I'm still loving you!"

I burst through the lobby as the bouncer said, "Hey, no free re-entries!"

I ignored him and started to pull up Uber when I spotted a cab. I waved at him and climbed in the back.

"Where to?" he asked?

"Maisons-sur-Mer," I answered. "North Myrtle Beach."

"Yeah, I know where it is," he said as he drove away from the strip club.

Chapter 4

I got back to the condo and kept trying to reach Maggie or Trina, but got nowhere. I googled Bourbon Street and tried to find the bar. It wasn't that hard. Horny Hippo, home of the Horny Hippo Homebrew Hurricane. I called the bar and got an answering service.

I googled the bar's name and got a ton of photos and video clips. None of them were encouraging. Finally, in desperation or fear, I typed the following into the Google search bar:

"bachelorette party horny hippo bourbon street"

I also added the date and hit submit. My screen filled up with results, but the second one down was a video. I read the short blurb which said "a bunch of sluts at bachelorette party going wild," and I started to sweat. I clicked the thumbnail, and the video opened. After an ad about viagra, it started playing.

Some guy was filming and laughing it up with a couple of his buddies. They were doing shots of tequila. You could see the stage behind them, and there was Maggie, my wife, with her shirt pulled up to her chin, holding her big melons in her hand and waving them around and around as the crowd cheered.

One of the tequila drinkers said, "Dude, check out the old broad's tits!"

Dude #2 turned around and stared, saying, "Fuck, she's got great tits for an old chick. She's a fucking MILF for sure!"

Dude #3 laughed and said, "Hell yeah, man, I'd fucking do her."

The video cut and then moved around before refocusing. When it did, you could see Maggie standing at a round bar table with Dude #2 and Dude #3 on either side of her. Trina was to the right of Dude #3.

"We gotta go, guys," Trina said, "Come on, Mom, we need to get back to the hotel."

"But I made it to round two," Maggie said, her words heavily slurred. "I can't go until it's over. I might win!"

"Yeah, don't wuss out now," Dude #2 said.

"Yeah, let's have another shot!" suggested Dude #3.

"Shots! Shots! Shots!" The dudes started chanting. Maggie joined in, happily shouting and banging on the table.

Trina shook her head. "Ok, just one more!"

The video cut again.

"So, what's the deal with round two?" Dude #2 asked Maggie.

"I don't know, but they said I made it! It's in a separate room." Maggie explained, though, in her condition, it was hard to understand.

Just then, the MC came up to her table. "Ok, Maggie, you ready for round 2?"

"Hells, yeah!" Maggie shouted as she downed another shot.

"Ok, come with me then," He said, taking my wife by the arm.

"Hey!" Trina shouted, stopping him dead in his tracks.

Fuck, thank God Trina was there to chaperone the chaperone.

"Can we come too?" Trina asked.

The MC looked around the table. "Sure, why not? Come on."

The Dudes let out a cheer, then followed Trina and her mother as the MC led them out of the bar area, down a hallway, and through a door with a sign that read "Private."

The video ended suddenly.

"That's it?" I shouted out loud.

I redid the search, hoping for more, but nothing appeared.

Fuck!

I grabbed the bottle of Bib & Tucker Bourbon and started sipping it straight from the bottle. I kept searching and checking the site for more videos, but there weren't any. I tried calling and texting Maggie and Trina but got no responses. Eventually, I must have fallen asleep.

Chapter 5

I woke to the sound of a blender. Doug was standing in the kitchen, making some kind of smoothie.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he said with a grin. "You missed a good time last night. Amber was pissed you left."

"Sorry, I was feeling guilty and worried about Maggie," I explained. My head felt like it was going to split open.

"Apology accepted," came the soft sound of a female voice. I spun around to see Amber walking into the kitchen, barefoot, wearing only one of Doug's shirts.

"Amber?" I said, not believing she was in our condo. "What are you doing here?"

"Recovering from a night of hot sex," she said as she slipped her arms around Doug from behind. "Coulda been you, but you blew it."

I looked at Doug, who just shrugged. "Hey, I'm the only single guy here."

"Did you find your wife, yet?" Amber asked.

"How do you," I started to ask, but she cut me off.

"Doug told me all about it," Amber explained.

"Oh, he did, did he?" I gave Doug a dirty and meaningful look. "She's not answering. I've called more times than I can count."

"So what is it that's bothering you?" Amber asked. "I mean you have no qualms with going to a strip club and getting frisky with naked girls. Isn't it a bit of a double standard for you to get pissed at her for having a little harmless fun?"

"What I was doing and what she was doing is different," I argued.

"How so? Was she fondling naked men and having them sit in her lap, rubbing on her pussy with their cocks?" Amber asked with a sarcastic grin.

"No, of course not!" I responded with a bit of irritation. "That's different!"

"But that's what you were doing!" Amber countered. "You were fondling me, and I was naked. I sat in your lap and rubbed your cock with my pussy. So, what you were doing was worse than what she was doing?"

"Oh come on, it's not the same thing, and you know it," I tried to argue, but my logic was not working that well. "I left, so I wouldn't get into trouble."

"So, you were on the verge of getting in trouble?" She asked, not giving me a break at all. "What do you mean trouble? Sex? You were afraid if you stayed, you would have had sex?"

"Maybe, yeah," I admitted. "But, you were responsible enough to behave yourself. You set a limit of what was and was not acceptable, and you didn't cross the line, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose," I replied. "And?"

I could not believe how surreal it was to be hungover, debating with a stripper about morality.

"But, you're so bent out of shape because you don't trust your wife to have at least the same amount of willpower as you when she wasn't doing as much as you were. She was just having fun, right?"

"I mean, yeah, I guess so. I didn't see Maggie really do anything all that bad," I admitted.

"She's probably just hungover and sleeping it off," Amber rationalized.

I wasn't entirely convinced, but at least I could see Amber's point enough to calm down.

"Now, if you do want to get in trouble, we can go to your room. Doug won't mind, will you Doug?"

Doug chuckled, then said, "Hell, yeah, I mind. I was hoping to get a quickie in before golf."

Amber unbuttoned Doug's shirt and let it fall to the floor of the kitchen, revealing her fantastic body to me again. "Why don't you both do me?" She asked mischievously.

I stood frozen in place, staring at Amber like a deer in the headlights. Doug stepped behind her, bent her over the bar, and started fucking her. She reached out, and I found myself stepping closer. Amber grabbed my pants and started opening them, then reached inside to seize my cock. I did nothing to stop her as she pulled it free. She licked the head and was about to start blowing me when I came to my senses and pulled away.

"I can't! I'm sorry!" I said as I quickly tucked my cock back in my pants and went back to my room. I checked my messages and noticed that Maggie had finally sent a text.

It said, "Sorry, battery died. Bad hangover. Will call. XOXO" I let out a sigh of relief then went to take a shower. Hopefully, that would make me feel better, at least physically, if not emotionally.

Chapter 6

After Doug banged Amber, he was kind enough to whip up a large cooler of Bloody Mary's for the guys. By the time I had returned to the kitchen, Amber was nowhere to be found. I grimaced as I raised the vodka-filled tomato juice to my lips, then took a somewhat healthy swallow. I fought the urge to barf it back up and forced myself to hold it down as my body shimmied through a series of spasms and twitches.

"Ahhhhh," I growled, "hair of the fucking dog."

The rest of the guys were present and in similar condition. After we all took our medicine, we piled into the SUV's and drove to the golf course. By the time we got checked in and our bags loaded onto carts, I was on my third Bloody Mary and was feeling like a human being again. My hands were still a bit shaky as I teed off on hole #1, from the whites.

I hit a good drive down the middle of the fairway and watched as my ball got a good kick and rolled to within an easy chip shot to the green. Doug was my golf cart partner; he went next, but hit from the golds, as he had once been a professional golfer. His ball rolled off to the left of mine. Next up was TJ, followed by Jim Miller, who rounded out our foursome. The other guys were ahead of us and had just cleared the green to head to hole #2.

TJ skulled his ball, and we let him tee off again. The second one sliced wickedly and went off into the palmettos, never to be seen again.

"Fuck it, just hit again, we didn't see anything," offered Doug.

TJ smiled and teed up again. "Yeah, well, at this rate, we may be here a while," he cajoled.

"Keep your head down," Jim Miller opined.

TJ swung and hit the ball square, driving it with a slight fade to land in good position.

Jim hit his ball right down the middle about twenty yards behind my ball. All in all, it was an excellent start to the round.

By the 9th hole, I was drunk. I'd had two more of the Bloody Mary's, but they ran out. So, on the third hole, I stopped the beer cart girl and bought a case, an ice chest, and a bag of ice. A beer per hole put me at a whopping total of 5 beers and 5 cocktails.

At the turn at nine, Doug ran into the snack bard to grab some grub. I sat in the golf cart, nursing my beer and thinking about Maggie. I was worried about the things I had seen, but more about the things I hadn't. What was that whole "round 2" thing about, and what did they do in the room marked "private"?

TJ could tell I was down. "You should lay off the beers for a couple of holes, Hank," he suggested. "I don't want to have to carry you off the course. Plus, you're game is almost as bad as mine."

"Dude," I replied, "my game couldn't be that bad if I were passed out."

"Well, that's true, but still," he said with a laugh. "Don't get so wasted you can't go back to Derriere's tonight. "

"Don't worry," I said as I emptied the beer and crushed the can. Just then, Doug came out and shoved a hot dog into my hand.

"Eat that, or I'll force-feed you," he demanded. I nodded and took a couple of bites. I was hungrier than I thought and finished it pretty quickly. "There are four more in the bag. Help yourself."

I ate a second one as we waited for our buddies ahead of us to tee off on #10 and then clear the green.

Doug teed off first and hit a massive shot that left us all in awe. Jim went next with a reasonably good drive. TJ went third and didn't do too badly.

"How did I end up going last?" I asked. Generally, in golf, when you tee off, the person who won the last hole goes first.

"You suck," Jim Miller answered. "That's how."

I concentrated and drove the ball into the rough way short. I followed that with a trip to a bunker, which took me two tries to escape. I ended up three-putting the hole and walked back to the golf cart feeling worse than before.

"Bro, I'm sure Maggie's fine. Nothing happened. So she showed off her tits. You've done far worse than that."

"I know," I agreed. "I just never expected Maggie to behave like that."

"Kind of a double standard," Doug replied. "Just get it out of your head and focus on golfing."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, "so sayeth the expert on marriage."

Doug had been married three times and divorced all three times. He was great about finding a wife, but piss poor at keeping one. I never understood why a serial cheater was also a serial marrier.