The Death of Tammy Janeway Pt. 02

Over time, the idea began to intrigue me, however. After marrying Brother Samuelson, I'd be locked into a life of "him on top, me on top", as Jasmine described it. This party could be my last chance to "clean my cobwebs".

I started to ask questions about the men who'd be selected to dance at this party. Not in any way designed to show a change of mind, you know, but just in a kinda curious fashion. The idea of attending started creeping its way into my mind.

One of my worldly girlfriends came to me one day and told me that another of her girlfriends was having a bachelorette party and would I like to come? I declined the invitation. My girlfriend told me I didn't have to fornicate at this party. Only the bride is expected this "honor". Perhaps I should come just to see how things went.

I thought about it for a week. Then I went back to my girlfriend and said I would come on the condition that my attendance not be noted anywhere, especially on paper. She laughed and agreed.

I rationalized that I could attend this party and not participate. After all, JWs aren't prohibited from visiting nightclubs, nor are we prohibited from drinking. If we get there and things get out of hand, we can always leave. Having never attended a bachelorette party, I wanted to have the experience for myself and draw my own conclusions. (Secretly, I didn't believe that any woman would fornicate with a stranger on the night before her wedding. I wanted to see if that part was true.)

So the day for the bachelorette party arrives. My worldly girlfriend's name was Felicia. The bride's name was Jaleesa. The party was scheduled at. (I'm not noting the name of the club because I don't want anyone to know I attended. It's a fairly well known club in Detroit. Let's just call the place 'Nastytown'.)

I didn't know what to expect, other than that the bride was expected to have sex with one of the dancers. I'd seen women fornicating before, not in person, you understand, but on video. I'd done a bit of public fornicating myself, so I had an idea of how that portion of the night might proceed.

So we get there and we're laughing and we're drinking and going on. I'm kinda nervous. I'm sipping on a vodka gimlet and looking over my shoulder, hoping that no one from my congregation walks in. Just in case that happens I'm prepping my exit strategy. You know how if feels when you're doing something you're not supposed to be doing and you don't want to get caught. That was me in spades.

All my worldly friends were in various states of drunkenness. The music was incredibly loud. None of us were able to carry on conversations without saying "Huh?" or "What?" repeatedly, and this only exacerbated the liquor-induced levity. Most of the women in attendance were, ahem, "heavy", which is a euphemism for "fat". Jaleesa wasn't "heavy", but I wouldn't describe her as "svelte" either. Everyone seemed to be looking about, chattering nervously, waiting for the start of the show.

Suddenly, there was a pause in the music followed closely by the muted silence of anticipation. The crowd hushed. Now the DJ came over the sound system and gave Jaleesa a shout out for her impending nuptials. He mentioned her husband's name, then he rattled off a few funny anecdotes about Jaleesa's route to the altar. Everyone laughed. Jaleesa got up and paraded around the room like a hunter who'd bagged an elephant.

The waiters then dragged out this plush, red velvet divan and positioned it in the middle of the dance floor. Jaleesa stood and theatrically lay back in this lounging chair, much to the applause of the crowd. She drew a long, luxurious swipe at her pussy and drew her fingers up to her nose. I could see she wasn't wearing any panties.

The lights dropped, the room dimmed and a spotlight came up focused on a muscular black man, about 5'10" tall, who strutted out in a baseball uniform from which his dick protruded, covered by a sock. My fear at being discovered re-doubled. But for the limited lighting, I think I would have sneaked out right then.

The black guy started dancing. He paraded around the room, doffing his clothing as he went. All too soon he was left with just his baseball cap and that sock.

At this point I began to notice an undue warmth in my groin. I hadn't been fucked in over a year. This guy's penis gave me pause. I wanted to see it, you know? Not FEEL it, of course, because that would be sinful. But I just wanted to see it, kinda in a clinical sense, to make sure it was a real dick up under that sock, and not a facsimile of a dick. At least that's what I told myself. What's the harm? I tried to play it off, of course. But I was laser focused on that sock. And he kept teasing us!! He went to pull it off on any number of occasions before drawing it back. We saw his balls and a couple inches of pole but that's it. He pranced around the room and offered his dick to every woman there, with the sock in place. Not a few of those women took that sock into their mouths.

He approached Jaleesa last. I didn't know it at the time, but this is bachelorette party protocol. Jaleesa wrapped his sock in her mouth and finally came away with it, exposing his naked boner.

The crowd went wild.

Now he started over again, traipsing up to each woman in search of a blowjob. Many women accepted his offer. When he got to me I politely declined. I wasn't THAT drunk. But I was interested in watching other women fellate. Any woman that says differently is lying. I hadn't sucked a dick in a year. Damn these porn videos; I wanted to see how real women do it.

By now just about everyone was drunk. Each time his dick went into someone else's mouth there was a general uproar, you know, like at a frat party.

"Chug! Chug! CHUGGA!! CHUG!!!"

Sometimes he would grab the backs of women's heads and just ram it in there. By the time he got back around to Jaleesa the two of them put on a raunchy show that concluded with Mr. Baseball ejaculating in her mouth. She chugged his ejaculate. We all cheered. (By this time I'd had a few more Vodka gimlets).

The next dancer came out, dressed in a British foxhunter's outfit, and performed essentially the same dance, centered on undressing slowly and featuring group fellatio, sans my gullet, because I wasn't drunk enough to suck group dick. He pranced up to Jaleesa and she blew him apace, only this time he led her to the divan in the center of the room and fucked her ragged for about three minutes before pulling out and cumming in her mouth. She swallowed this batch, too. I was intrigued. No, "aroused" is a better term. Slowly, my opposition to group suck began to wane. I mean, why not? Everybody else was doing it. Maybe it was the vodka gimlets talking, but I wanted to feel the taste of a man in my mouth. It had been so long!

A third dancer came out. This guy was totally nude except for the sock. And the sock didn't stay in place long. His dick was impossibly long. Jaleesa's bridal party patrons showed their appreciation appropriately. Instead of making his rounds of women's throats, he led each woman as might consent to the center of the room, mounted them up on the divan and fucked them. It was then that I noticed that few of the women wore underwear. I had mine, of course. In fact, I was the only woman there wearing pants. This was probably not very bright, because it limited my options. As I watched Felicia's friends getting fucked, one by one, I was sure that my own pussy was in the process of leaving dark evidence of her longing in the threading of my khakis. I kept my legs pressed together, just in case.

By the time the show Closer came out, my panties were soaked in morning dew. This guy's dick was biggest of all. He accepted blowjobs and pussy without having to dance. I didn't know most of these women. I only knew Felicia and two other women from my office. All three of these women had sucked and fucked every dick proffered. I called Felicia over.

"Felicia, I need to suck this guy's dick," I said.

She shrieked.

"Sshhhhhhh!!!" I said, as if anyone could hear us speaking. "Do you think Monique and Destiny would be offended?"

Monique and Destiny were the other two women from our office. All three of them worked under my supervision.

"Let's call them over," Felicia said.

And she did.

"Tammy wants to partake," Felicia said brusquely, as the four of us huddled up.

Monique and Destiny shrieked. All three of them were drunk. They took me by the arm and led me to the dancer. His name was Devon. At the moment he was plowing this other woman's pussy. Felicia tapped Devon on the shoulder and gave him a look. She thrust me forward. Devon pulled his dick from the woman's pussy and stood before me with this massive erection. The women in the crowd began to clap.

"SUCK THAT DICK!! SUCK THAT DICK!!"

Apparently, they'd noticed that I was the only person who had yet to participate.

I knelt before him. His dick was in my face. Remembering Jack Torrance's infamous line from The Shining, I said to myself:

"Here's to one miserable year on the wagon, and all the irreparable harm it's caused me!"

I blew him. I blew him well. When he went to extricate himself from my jaws, I scrambled out of my khakis, lay down upon the divan, opened my legs and I fucked him.

OMG, it felt good.