Hen-do Happening

Track three was Honky Tonk Women and by crikey they moved well to it, sensuality had never been a word I'd associate with men before but this lot, whhhooooooeeee. It must have been getting warm, I was sweating, and I don't think I was the only one. At the end of the track the speedoes came apart, Velcro I imagine, I didn't really care, and they were left in black leather look thongs. Not a look I've ever considered attractive on a man before but the way it defined their bums, my palms were aching to grip on and take a chunk out of them. Every one of them seemed to be completely smooth below the eyebrows, which became more apparent once they got down to the thong.

Charmaine came back out on stage. "Now remember girls, you may not touch the dancers AT ALL unless you are invited to do so by the dancers. Dancers, do you have anything to say?"

As one the six stepped forward and said, "If you can see it, you can touch it ladies." The whistling and howling almost took the roof off, to my surprise I was howling like a wolf as loud as anyone. Charmaine signalled for silence. "Well, there you are ladies, if you can see it, you can touch it. That doesn't leave much out of bounds. The boys will be coming down onto the floor in a moment, where they'll be joined by a few more so there's plenty to go around. Who wants to buy some Dollars?"

Oh, now I got it. We could do the 'slip a banknote under the thong trick' for a dance. Shocked at the exploitation of these poor young men I stuck my hand up and handed over my credit card for $100 in fives. No better make that $200. One of the pole dancer girls from earlier delivered me a fat envelope with a wink and a whispered "enjoy". Charmaine and the girls were floating round the room, presumably chaperoning the boys to make sure nothing got too out of hand, or even in hand.

The six from the stage jumped down and were joined by another dozen or so equally ripped men who spaced out, two or three to a table where they introduced themselves. To my absolute delight we had Rocky, Shaft and newcomer Jack. I held up two piles of twenty dollars, one in each hand and invited Rocky and Shaft to come over and let me conceal them about their person. They were more than happy to come on over and let me pop the money in under the elasticated waist band of their thongs. Up close they smelled of aftershave and baby oil and I can confirm they had buttocks tighter than a rock bands drumkit. I gripped on hard, sliding my fingers into the hot cleft between their cheeks and taking a strong hold. So strong in fact that they had to lift my hands away so they could begin my dance. They stood me up and slid their bodies up close to mine, pulsing against my side, brushing their hands on my bum, coming in close as if to kiss me on the mouth before ducking away at the last minute.

Halfway through the track I found myself being manoeuvred to my chair, where one after the other they took turns to hook a leg over my shoulder and push the well filled crutch of their thongs tantalisingly close to my face. I'd never had threesome fantasies before but right then it was deep into my greatest desire, I was about to unhook my bra and pull it out through my dress to present to then when the music stopped and my two fantasy lovers stopped taunting me, they leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek then waved one of the girls over who pulled out a large purse and a notebook, counted the money in and made a note of who'd been given what.

I looked around the table, the other faces all looked stunned then suddenly scrabbled for their dollars and waved them to call over one of the dancers. I'd been lucky to get two of them, once the first dances were done any reticence was washed away in a torrent of lust.

I sat back feeling almost post orgasmic after the first dance and sipped my wine, then put it down because it was warm and strutted over to the bar in my four inch heels feeling like a sex goddess, albeit one with big control pants on, and ordered a long Island Iced Tea, then thought better of it when I remembered why it had been my cocktail of choice as a younger woman, it had more alcohol in than any other cocktail and got the evening going quicker. No decent story ever started with "I had just enjoyed a healthy salad" but I had several that started with a couple of Long Island Iced Teas.

I changed the order for a White Russian. "White Russian coming up. Are you Chris's wife?"

What the fu...I looked at the barman, Joshua, I think. "Do I know you?" I asked, slightly querulously.

"Josh Marten, I play fullback for Colton seconds, sometimes firsts. You're Chris Paxton's wife, aren't you?"

Bollocks. Bristol may have a population of over 690,000 but it's really quite a small place.

"If I said no, would you believe me?"

"Don't worry, Nicola, isn't it?" I nodded "What goes on tour stays on tour. I've seen worse in here than you having a good time and it's all very tightly controlled, nothing too extreme can happen. The dancers aren't allowed to touch anything on the front of the body or any exposed skin apart from arms and faces."

I thought back, they'd stroked my bum a bit, well once each and moved up and down my sides but apart from the kiss at the end that was the only actual contact. On reflection I wasn't sure if I was impressed at the way they'd implied so much and done so little or if I felt short changed.

More study may be required.

I thanked Josh and tipped him twenty dollars in his cycling shorts. He seemed more embarrassed than me, which was my intention.

I took my drink back to the table and waved ten bucks at one of the new lads, he took my money and this time I was "tied" to my chair with a couple of napkins and the belt from a boxers dressing gown. "Move Closer" pounded out and maybe it was the White Russian or maybe he was a better dancer, or maybe I like being tied up, I made a note to try that one at home, but I enjoyed it on a more elemental level. Now I was aware of the touching rules I noticed what was happening but still got a kick from the dance.

The table dancing went on for the best part of an hour in all, Charmaine came out on stage to announce the imminent departure. "Ladies, the boys will be leaving soon for another gig, so you've got no more than fifteen minutes to spend those dollars."

Tracy, one of the girls on our table, waved us all in. "I've got thirty dollars left, how about the rest of you?"

We went round the group and tallied up, Tracy's thirty was at the bottom end, in total we had three hundred and forty-five dollars. Tracy was clearly a taking charge kind of girl and ran off to return a minute later with a pint glass. "Right, all dump it in here and we'll see what they'll do for this lot."

Dutifully we coughed up, stuffing the glass full to overflowing. Tracy seemed to have acquired a sidekick, Rebecca was another one of the ex IRN girls, she'd called herself Bex when I knew her, which is probably why she still called me Coco, but was using Becca these days, and she was eagerly waving the nearest dancer across, it was one of the first six from the stage, Banger I think. "How much to lose everything?" she demanded, her eyes glittering with lust and desire.

He looked around, half the dancers had already disappeared, Charmaine and her cohorts were at the far end of the room and the lights were low. He licked his lips and slightly spoiled the moment by having a broad Bristolian accent. "Two fifty. Only one dance at a time. No cash through the books."

Bex and Tracy conferred. "What do we get for three fifty?"

He looked nervously back down the room. "Touchin's allowed, we can play with the spray cream and sauce 'n'all. Four songs and I'm gone."

They haggled and ended on five songs.

Tracy handed over the beer glass, he retrieved one of the dressing gowns from the stage and stuffed the money in a pocket.

The next track started and with a snap and a ping the leathery thong was gone, it had been doing a good job of holding in a moderately impressive package that brought admiring sounds from the rest of the table, I may be spoiled but it seemed to be average compared to Chris. I kept quiet, no one wanted to hear that.

He flexed his muscles and crouched down and stood alongside Wendy, who put on a big "Oooh keep that thing away from me" display of faux horror. He stood close to her, shielding his cock from everyone else's view with his tightly toned bum. Wendy reached to the table and grabbed one of those cardboard coasters you get in pubs and clubs. He Turned slightly to reveal she'd balanced it to sit flat on the head of his penis. Tracy jumped in, "Competition time. Wendy, are you going to try again? No? Right move on. One to Wendy."

There were two more seats before me, Jill was in one, who managed to get four, then someone I didn't know who got three coasters to balance.

SO. My turn. Not that I'm competitive, but four seemed pathetic.

He stood in front of me and did a few flexes and grinds. I looked him in the eye and, reaching forward I said, "If I can see it, I can touch it, right?" He seemed less sure of himself now but confirmed that was still the case.

"So, what do you do when you're not here, Banger?"

"I'm a fireman at the airport"

"Ooh, well, let's see if we can't get this hose to look a bit more like a pole" I whispered as I cupped him in my outstretched palm, gripping gently I worked my fingers around the shaft and squeezed softly. As I moved my hand back and forth, I was rewarded with a thickening and an increase in heat as it started to fill with blood. Not wanting to have to deal with a full-on boner I stopped when I had a semi hardon in my hand, opened my palm and in the other hand lifted a stack of ten coasters that I placed on the table by his right hip. I lifted the first to my lips, kissed it hard enough to leave a lipstick imprint and placed it carefully, kiss-mark down, onto his gently pulsating cock head. I loaded up another six, making seven in total and giving me a clear lead. Number eight toppled them all off and he pulled away to move on to the next lucky lady.

Next up was Tracy, who for all her show and bravado chickened out when push came to shove and couldn't bring herself to touch him.

Finally, it was the turn of Bex, Becca, whatever. Now, I know I mentioned competitive earlier, but Bex took it to a new level. She was wearing a halter topped dress, held in place by double sided tape to stop her fairly large boobs spilling out. As the nervous looking fireman dancer stepped up his semi had subsided a bit but was still looking like he'd have trouble getting it back in the thong, Bex grabbed on with one hand and with the other slipped her halter top over her head, so she was sitting there with it held up only by the tape. She gave a small tug and suddenly she was topless with a naked man in front of her. Leaning forward she pushed her tits together around the drooping cock, which pretty soon wasn't drooping any longer. Shocked squeals came from round the table, Tracy had regained some bravado and shouted out "You go for it gel", brave when it's someone else.

Bex shuffled forward in her chair so she could lean back slightly and called out "Gimme beermats Trace" Tracy scuttled round the table and came back with all she could find, handing them one at a time to her half naked partner in crime, who placed them two at a time on the swollen purple head jutting between her supporting white pillows. When she finished it was clearly more than the seven I'd achieved, although I disapproved of her method I had to admit it had been successful. Twenty seemed to be unbeatable and although I was offered the opportunity to try again, I declined, applauding Bex' efforts.

Tracy pointed out we still had two tracks and we hadn't tried the cream and chocolate sauce yet, our dancer seemed happier with this, presumably because he was back in charge, and grabbed both off the table. He danced up to Wendy, his erection seemingly likely to poke her in the eye and put a squirt of cream on the tip of his cock. She grabbed the thick shaft and leaned forward enough to look as if she was about to push it in her mouth, then wiped the cream off with her other hand and licked it off her finger with a grin. She rubbed him up and down a few more times then moved away.

The two girls between me and Wendy collapsed giggling and reached out with their fingerips to touch one each side and pick up some chocolate sauce that they wiped on their napkins.

My turn. He put a generous squirt of cream along the length of his cock and stood arrogantly in front of me, silently challenging me. Challenge accepted I was about to grab on when Josh the barman walked up behind him and whispered something I couldn't hear. Without missing a beat, the creamy erection moved away and reappeared between Tracy and Bex. Tracy looked as if the prosecco and cocktails were catching up with her and slumped down in her seat, fanning herself with her hands.

Bex stuck out her tongue and licked the cream off, then took the chocolate sauce bottle and poured it over the swollen tip and pushed it into her mouth, working it back and forth. There was a stunned silence around the table, I wasn't happy with where things were going and stood up to leave. Down the room I spotted Charmaine closing in with three of the girls and Chas or Mel, one of the door minders. I paused at the bar and asked Josh what he'd said, he shrugged "I pointed out he was going way beyond what was permitted and that as you are married to a friend of mine, I'd prefer it if he let it go."

Touched that Josh was looking out for me and thankful he'd averted something I would have regretted I gave hm a hug and a peck on the cheek. Afterwards he indicated along the room with a nod of his head. Bex was being escorted towards the door, trying to fasten her top up as she walked. Banger was up against the far wall, Chas (or Mel) had a restraining hand on one shoulder while Charmaine was issuing what looked like the mother and father of all bollockings, all done quietly but her intent was clear enough. I had a suspicion his dancing days were over. A suspicion reinforced when Rocky and Shaft came out and joined in the bollocking. I will admit I didn't recognise them with clothes on and had to ask Josh who they were.

Outside I whistled up Chris who was there in five minutes, two other girls form our party begged a lift and we all piled into the Volvo. Chris didn't ask what had gone on during the evening, he works on the same "what goes on tour stays on tour" principle, on the basis that if you don't trust each other there's no point being together. Liz and Cassie didn't have any such code of silence and spilled the lot, pole dancing lessons, male strippers, Bex being chucked out for blowing a dancer. That one caught his attention and once we'd dropped the other two off, I gave him the full rundown, including my annoyance at losing the stack-a-coaster-on-the-willy competition. I also told him his mate Josh had been watching out for me, he promised to buy the man a beer next time they met. In fact, he tried to promise to buy him a Babycham because he's a back but I don't really get Rugby jokes, so it went over my head.

Discussing it and telling him how I'd grabbed the dancer's dick to make it semi erect to improve my chances of winning started to get me hot, it was the sharing with Chris that I found arousing, not the act itself, so much so that I reached across the car and tried to get his cock out, I wanted to give him a blowjob as he drove us home. It's probably an indicator of which of us was sober, but he told me that as we were driving through the city centre and there was both lots of light and lots of CCTV, not to mention the crowds it probably wasn't a good plan. If I could hold that thought we'd be home in five minutes, and he'd gladly shag my brains out when we got there.

We burst in through the front door, Chris in the lead me hanging round his shoulders. The door slammed behind and I pushed him forwards to the stairs, clawing at his fly I spun him round to lie back holding himself up by the elbows on a carpeted step. I hauled his trousers down around his ankles and knelt on the bottom step. My hair fell forward and tangled around his penis and my hands, I ended up with a mouthful of cock and my own chestnut tresses, I spat out the bits I didn't want and sucked him to hardness. I felt certain there was more here than that fireman had on display, and while Chris wasn't as ripped, I preferred the solid look.

The awkward angle combined with the difficulty in breathing on top of the bucket full of booze I'd consumed along with a Thai meal all helped to make me feel slightly queasy so I cut short Chris's oral heaven and clambered over him to get up to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way.

I dumped myself on the bed in just my heels, tights, big pants and bra, although I had unclipped the bra and was lying there with it loosely sitting on my breasts. What can I say, I'm a sex-goddess. Chris waddled in, his trousers tangled round his ankles and sat on the floor to pull them off, flicking his shoes back out through the door where at least one clumped down the stairs.

I pushed myself further up onto the bed with one wrist on each bed post at the head end. "Tie me to the bed and have your way with me." I demanded, "Come on, do anything you want."

He raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"

Even through my alcohol befuddled haze I picked that one up. "No. Not ANYTHING. Almost anything. No back door access."

He climbed on next to me, pulled my bra away and tossed it onto the floor, he had his belt in one hand and looped it around my wrist then over the bed post, pulling it tight enough that I couldn't move my hand. The other wrist was secured with a tie, he never wears ties so there weren't many to choose from, it may have been his old school one.

Once I was trussed up he dragged on my waist band and hauled my big pants and tights down, pausing to slip my shoes off and replace them so they were all I had on, them and a seductive smile.

I tried to rationalise how I felt, apart from drunk, being tied up made me feel vulnerable but safe because I trusted Chris implicitly, I knew he would keep me safe but there was a secret thrill inside that said 'but he could....'

He climbed onto the bed and crawled up next to me, he'd stripped off his shirt as well now and was naked beside me, in normal circumstances I'd have been stroking him, as it was, I couldn't do anything, I just had to wait for him to do things to me. Another point in it's favour there then. He kissed me, then I felt a silk scarf slipping round my head and the room was blocked from view.

"I didn't ask you to blindfold me" I complained. He made the not unreasonable point that being tied up and used as his sexual plaything meant that him doing things I hadn't asked for was sort of the point. Suddenly I couldn't speak because there was a cock in my mouth, I couldn't do a lot with it due to the angle, but he managed to slide in and out for a bit without choking me too much. He pulled away leaving me reaching fruitlessly with my mouth.

The bed moved underneath me, there was a shake and a bump that if I hadn't known better, I would have said was someone getting off the bed. No, it was someone getting off the bed, the same someone was going downstairs. I heard the TV switch on, the channel changed to the familiar sounds of 'Match of the day'. I pulled on my wrists, starting to get pissed off.

"Chris, you arsehole, if you've left me here to go and watch fucking football you can forget any of this shit. Get back up here and untie me. You don't even like football you bastard." I strained in the darkness, pushing up with my feet and thrashing round on the bed. I wasn't getting free anytime soon and lay back down, fuming as Gary Lineker told Chris that later there would be highlights of West Ham against Southampton but first the Local Derby between Everton and Liverpool.