Curiosity Killed the Pussy

*** Disclaimer: This is work of fiction, in no way based on reality. I therefore do not condone of any actions that may be deemed immoral or illegal portrayed in this story, it's just fantasy, not reality. ***

My bachelorette's party reflected me well, not much wildness, just a cozy girls' night in. My bestie Bea had insisted on Alex, my fiancé, being banished for the night. Even though he didn't like her that much, mostly because of her... wilder side, he still understood and took it in stride. He was probably just worried she'd take things too far, despite the tame setting. To be fair to Bea, she wasn't all that bad. She knew herself well enough to know that driving home sober wasn't going to be an option, so she'd be staying in our guest room for the night. Quinn and Emily on the other hand were getting picked up by Quinn's boyfriend, so none of us had to worry about drinking tonight. Quinn and I were usually the designated drivers, as both of us barely drank a glass or two over a whole night, but it was nice for neither of us to have to pay attention to that today.

The night had been filled with reminiscing stories about boyfriends, both current and previous ones, though I didn't really contribute much, mostly for lack of exes. It was a little less fun to hear about all of her raunchy escapades and adventures. In some aspects she was the polar opposite of me, but I still loved her to bits. She managed to instill a healthy dose of FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) on occasion, and I had honestly never really regretted going along with the things she dragged me into.

Then she said something that interrupted my train of thought. "There was that one huge black guy though, such a shame his job made him move away."

Quinn rolled her eyes "We know, you've only gushed about him a hundred times."

"Yeah well, if it had been one of you guys, you would've been gushing too", Bea fired back, letting out her trademark mischievous giggle, which earned her another eye roll from Quinn, though with a slight blush this time.

"I still think you keep exaggerating his size though," I chimed in, "there's no way something that big wouldn't hurt."

"Honey, don't underestimate the female body, we're literally built to push out babies, even that donkey of a man was nowhere near the size of a full grown newborn."

Bea did always have a... very straightforward way with words.

"Besides, I offered to lend you the replica we made during a long weekend, so you could find out for yourself."

Emily hadn't heard about that part. "Wait... you mean you like... have a toy cast from his... oh my..."

"Hey the offer to lend it out goes for all you gals" Bea said with a playful wink.

Emily lost her look of wonder and shook her head. "Eww~ Hun, I love you a bunch but... that's like sharing a toothbrush, just a bit much..."

I had had a similar reaction when she had suggested it the first time. Just like Emily I had been curious and a bit tempted, but while the temptation had quickly evaporated with her offer, the curiosity stuck around. It didn't help that she gleefully shared a video she liked every now and then. While I didn't find black men attractive in a general sense, there was a very rare occasional exception. The videos she shared though, that was something else. They were usually very up close and personal, not much of the guy (or the girl for that matter) to be seen, focussing on where the action was. There was just something about the contrast, perhaps something 'enthralling' for lack of a better word, though their size was kinda scary to me, no matter what Bea claimed.

I jumped a little when the doorbell rang out of nowhere.

"Oooh!" Bea chimed with that excited glint in her eyes, "my surprise has arrived."

Uh-oh... She was up to something.

As she disappeared into the hallway, the remaining three of us exchanged some dumbfounded looks. We heard her talking to someone, but it was too hushed and muffled to understand anything. A few moments later she popped her head through the door.

"Okay gals, close your eyes for a sec."

Still having no clue what was going on, I went along with it, just curious to find out what she had planned. There were some scuffling noises, something heavy sounding being put down on the floor and a few hurried footsteps.

"All set, you can look again." Turning to the door, she loudly let out, "We're ready~", in a sing-songy voice. A ginormous boombox had appeared in front of the TV-cabinet, the light had been dimmed a bit and Bea had returned to her spot on the couch, but nothing else seemed to have changed, which left me even more puzzled about her grand plan.

Then the door opened and a large black man stepped in. To my surprise, I found him somewhat handsome, with a slight regal vibe about him. It probably also helped that he was wearing a well-fitting light gray suit that looked expensive, possibly even tailored.

"Good evening ladies, who's the lucky girl tonight?", he spoke in a deep voice.

There was a moment of silence, before Quinn pointed at me.

"That'd be the one who can't seem to keep her mouth closed".

I instantly felt my cheeks flush, not even having realized I was staring with my mouth agape. Unfortunately, I also didn't have a good comeback right away, so I just reached out and gave her a playful smack for good measure.

"Oh don't worry cutiepie," he said with a crooked smile on his face, "you're supposed to stare." He pulled a little remote from his pocket and pressed a button. As soon as the boombox sprung to life, I figured out what Bea's big surprise was. He was a stripper.

He started moving to an upbeat R&B song I didn't recognise, and soon his vest went flying, landing on the far end of the couch. His navy blue tie was the next victim, each tug in sync with the beat of the music, until he had opened it up far enough to get it past his head in one quick smooth motion. He spun it around on one finger a few times before letting go, though it missed the other end of the couch, disappearing out of sight.

I found myself marveling at the simple yet fluid way he moved his hips. Alex had always been the better dancer of us both, whereas I was best described as rhythmically challenged. This guy made it look so easy, for a moment I wondered if it was simply natural because he was black, but quickly chastised myself for the stereotypical and slightly racist thought.

I managed to tear my eyes away for a moment, finding Quin and Emily just as intrigued as I was by his performance. When I turned to Bea however, I was met with a wide grin and her staring right back at me. She scooted closer, whispering quietly enough for the others not to hear.

"Liking your surprise so far?" She cooed.

"Well, it's definitely... unexpected..." I answered, trying to sound as blasé as possible.

"Mhm..." Her tone seemed unconvinced, "he's only just getting started though."

I gave her a questioning look, but she only nodded towards him, making it clear I wasn't going to get any further explanation.

As if on cue, he clapped his hand above his head, just as I turned my attention back to him, startling me ever so slightly. The song abruptly stopped, but soon enough, the boombox started blasting the infamous 'I'm too sexy for my shirt'. It got a laugh from all of us, though our giggles quickly faded as the chorus came in, his hips gyrating suggestively to the music. My eyes got pulled along with his hands as they moved down, sliding over his body until they reached the bottom of his shirt. They took their sweet time pulling his shirt out of his pants, side by side, bit by bit, giving us a few short glimpses of the ebony abs underneath. Once fully free from his pants, he ripped every button open with one sharp yank, sounding like a mix between bubble wrap and metal. To my surprise, he didn't lose any buttons, though Bea must've still been watching me more closely than him, quickly whispering "Push-buttons". I nodded a little, though only half-turned towards her, unable to tear my eyes from the spectacle in front us.

The music subtly transitioned to Nelly's 'It's getting hot in here', as he slowly but surely teased his shirt off. We had all gotten awfully quiet by the time he bared his entire upper body. He was ripped, in an athletic sort of way, not overly so like a bodybuilder tends to be. It wasn't long before the music transitioned again, turning into a slower song, with rather suggestive lyrics, but nothing too explicit. He managed to get his belt off without it looking clumsy, dropping it closer than the other pieces of clothing, but still far enough to be out of his way. My eyes were glued to his hands when he popped the button of his pants open, only realizing I was holding my breath when he didn't pull the zipper down soon after.

As I sucked air back into my lungs, a piece of black cloth flew past my head. Startled, I jerked my head to the side it came from. Bea was leaning back into the couch, in the middle of a giggling fit. I looked back to see where it landed, but it turned out our black stripper had caught it, spinning what looked like a pair of panties around with his finger like he had with his tie. He glanced my way, before stretching the pair of panties between two fingers, firing it back at Bea. They shared a conspiratory look, before she whispered, "Your turn," rather sultrily into my ear, my head snapping back in direction.

"What? No way... I can't..."

"Shh, it's fine, live a little, no one here will ever tell."

Glancing to the side, I could swear I saw his gaze drifting down to my legs, before moving back up and giving me a cheeky wink. It felt almost like a challenge, or... an invitation? I wasn't quite sure.

Turning back to Bea, I asked, "Did you plan this?"

"Nah," she replied with a shrug, "you know how I am, just a spur of the moment thing."

She had a point, though I still wasn't wholly convinced with her explanation. When Alex had been a little grumbly about being banished for the night, she had advised me to wear something nice for when he came back home, to make it up to him with a nice surprise. But here I was, reaching under my dress and peeling my fiancé's surprise down my legs, with a black stranger's gaze fixed on my every move. I hoped I didn't flash him, but even if I did, he surely didn't show it. It was only when I threw them his way, that he reacted. He held them out, folding the sheer, lacy white fabric open for all to see. Or see-through, I should say. It was a new pair that my fiancé hadn't even seen yet, though the black stranger holding them looked... pleasantly surprised. A little nod of approval, maybe even appreciation? All I could do was blush and hide my face in my hands, though I still peeked through my fingers to keep an eye on him. With a suave smile, I saw how he put on a little show with my panties, letting them follow a similar trail his hand had followed when his shirt had still been on. It didn't escape me how the white fabric contrasted nicely with his dark skin, not unlike the rest of me would. This time he kept going down, my friends whooping and cheering as he passed my panties over his crotch, paired with a well timed hip thrust. Good thing I wasn't in them anymore... or was it? Damn you intrusive thoughts.

Instead of returning them after his little show, they were tucked in his pocket, half dangling out, as if to serve as a little reminder of what I had dared to do, while he continued his routine. The last cheers died down as his hand went to his zipper, collectively holding our breaths in anticipation. Were we about to find out if Bea's stories had been true? He repeatedly rolled his entire body to the music as he inched the zipper down, his pants smoothly falling down to his ankles. To both my relief and slight disappointment, he was still wearing underwear, if you could call it that. It was rather tight, and absolutely tiny, fitting snugly around his... holy shit, that was a big package.

My train of thought derailed for a moment, though I quickly convinced myself he had probably padded the tiny thong with something. Then again, as he danced, it moved along rather... naturally. Maybe it wasn't padded after all? Try as I might, I couldn't really figure it out, though it did result in me staring in a very inappropriate spot. Something about how it jiggled when he made a slightly sharper twist was... hypnotizing. I think I only looked up when the music finally stopped, my view being broken for a moment as he doubled over in a deep and gracious bow. My friends were giving an enthusiastic applause, which I sheepishly joined somewhat belatedly.

Bea sprang up from her seat, going over to the black stripper and yet again whispering something to him. He picked up the heavy looking boombox effortlessly, giving us all one last look at those muscles flexing and rolling, like an ebony marble statue in motion, before he disappeared through the door. Bea then turned her attention back to us and announced in a comically official tone, "Now ladies, as entertaining as that was, unfortunately, a lovely view like that doesn't come cheap. Due to severe budgetary constraints, the next act will be for one pair of eyes only. In order to handle this fairly, I suggested we vote on it, though no self-nominations of course! I hereby nominate our bride to be, how about we have her vote in return?"

As funny as it was to see the wildchild Bea trying her best to mimic something akin to a haughty news anchor, my stomach tied itself in knots as she nominated me. It could still go anywhere, but I had a suspicion as to where this was headed.

"I'll vote for our guest turned host, since she already has experience in the matter," I replied, keeping up the little charade of haughtiness.

"Ooh, how exciting," Bea cooed, "one for me and one for you, let's see how this turns out, Emily?"

"I have to disagree with our bride to be, why leave it up to someone who already has experience, while a woman in her position should get all the experiences she can get before the big day. My vote is definitely on her."

The knot in my stomach grew bigger, I could only hope Quinn would turn into a tie. I looked at her pleadingly as she spoke.

"As much as I'd prefer to vote for myself, the rules forbid me from doing so." Emily nodded fiercely as if she felt the same way, and Quinn continued, "As I told our dark skinned friend earlier tonight, it looks like you're the lucky one tonight."

While I wasn't opposed to the show continuing, the thought of being all on my own somehow made it scary. I felt my nerves take hold of me, my pulse rapidly quickening. Bea came up to me, took my hands and pulled me to my feet, and truth be told, I needed the help. She guided me by the hand to the door, leaning in close and whispering "It'll only go as far as you want it to hun, relax... He's in the guest room, waiting for you." And with that the door closed behind me and I was left all by myself in the hallway.

**************************************************

I took a deep breath and took a step. That's right, one foot in front of the other. Has the staircase always looked this steep? I counted every step, 16 of them, somehow it seemed like I'd missed some. Only as far as I wanted it to go, she had said. It'd be helpful if I actually knew where that was. Not that I had much time to figure it out though, since my feet had apparently already carried me to the door of the guest room. He had left it slightly ajar, so with a light courtesy knock, I pushed it open further. The only light in the room was the bedside lamp, casting long shadows across the room. He turned to me, and his eyebrows shifted as he saw me standing in the doorway.

"Well hello th- oh, cutiepie, are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh yeah, no... I get that a lot," my voice came out a bit monotone, "I'm just pale."

I closed my eyes and shook my head, cringing a little at how oblivious that must've sounded. Of course I looked like a deer in headlights, I kinda felt like one too. He only let out a soft hearty chuckle and slowly walked over to me. The comparison of a strangely peaceful panther stalking his deer prey came to mind. He offered a hand, which I hesitantly took, and let him guide me over to the bed, sitting me down on the edge, and squatting down in front of me.

"You seem awfully nervous cutiepie, or... is it just shyness?"

"It's both really... I don't know quite what to expect, I've never... it's not like me to..." All I could do was sigh as the words failed to come out right, lowering my head in defeat and staring at my hands in my lap. I watched as his hand came into my view, easily covering both of mine with just one of his. His other hand lifted my chin up, his face adorned with a warm smile that made me feel a little fuzzy inside, though I had trouble looking him in the eye.

"This may sound odd, but... This is what I love most about my job."

His statement caught me off guard, but luckily he explained further, "You see, when it comes to clients there's mainly three types of them. There's always a few indifferent ones that don't mind the entertainment, but forget all about me once the music stops. Then there's the ones that practically throw themselves at me, not unlike your friend that hired me."

I wondered if Bea had tried to hit on him, and honestly, for once I kinda understood her.

"Then there's the third kind, the really interesting ones," he continued, "which I think you're part of. You see, just like the indifferent kind, I'd have no chance with a woman like you in the wild, I'd be shot down even if I was lucky enough to find an unattached one. But there's still a certain... curiosity there, you see it in their eyes, the way they look at you... They're usually not single by the time I get hired for some occasion they're a part of, so most often, that curiosity goes paired with guilt. How am I doing so far?"

He wasn't wrong, there was definitely curiosity, though I hadn't considered the guilt part. "Sounds about right... that explains why this feels so different than earlier."

"Downstairs, you mean?"

I nodded. "With my friends there it was innocent, more playful. now... just the two of us... alone...", and my words went out the window again.

"I think that's mostly your own mind doing that cutiepie," he reached for the remote as he talked, pressing a few buttons, "what happens in this room is entirely up to you, it's your night after all, I'm just here to spoil you, whatever that means for you."

He got back up and held out his hand, as a slow song came drifting from the boombox, something without lyrics, yet somehow still sounding like a mix between romantic and sensual background music. I hesitated again for a moment, but still took his hand, letting him pull me up to him. He lightly pressed me against him and all I could see was a broad muscular chest. I wasn't all that tall to begin with, but with his dark nipples pretty much at eye level, I must've looked absolutely tiny next to him. I rested my head against his chest, which felt softer than I had expected, and pulled a hand up to his shoulder. It struck me that the contrast between our skin was like day and night, and for some reason, my mind decided to remind me of how similar it looked to all those movies Bea had shown me. I closed my eyes and tried to push the thought away, reminding myself I had a lovely fiancé.

He guided me along with his swaying motions. Slowly at first, putting his hands firmly on my hips as the movements got broader and more suggestive. It was as if I was glued to his body, so close I could feel something firm pressing against my crotch. Was it the motions, or... was it moving? Was he... getting hard? No, not hard, but... definitely swelling. Surely felt like there wasn't any padding down there. I had never been one for clubbing, so I could only guess that this is what the kids would call 'grinding'. It was definitely... an experience.