The Bachelor and the Stripper by tvdude17
Discover passion and desire in 'The Bachelor and the Stripper,' an electrifying gay erotic sex story that explores forbidden love, sizzling encounters, and steamy romance. Dive into a world of temptation and fantasy that will leave you breathless. Read more now!<br/> Angel.
That’s the name I give her as he looks back at me in the mirror. Unlike me she has no beard, no body hair at all. My flat brown hair hidden under long locks of white that drape across her shoulders.
Her face looks thinner, helped by the make-up my younger sisters taught me to put on. Foundation, blush, mascara. Now Angel’s lips were a dark purple, like the eyeliner. Her eyelids covered with silver sprinkles.
Her body no longer emphasizing my toned muscles, thanks to a silver sparkling dress that accentuates her big fake breasts in a big white bra. And her hips with the dress resting on her fat ass, with straps down to her silver stockings and golden heels.
I’d fuck her if I saw her at a party.
All week I’ve been practicing walking in these shoes, with help from my sisters. I’d carefully ordered the lingerie to fit a man’s body size. The huge silver wings on Angel’s back were somehow the easiest part to find. Now I saw the total picture of my preparation, I was in trance.
Angel felt different. Another person entirely. She rested on her hips, plopping out her big cheeks for all to see. Her shoulders were relaxed and crouched down, to add to her meek pose. She was shy, I could tell, insecure perhaps if this was a good idea at all. If people would think of it as the joke it was, or perhaps could see, stare down her soul, and know she felt good in these clothes. Sexy even.
It all started a couple of months ago, when I started planning my best friend’s Jake’s bachelor party. I’d rented a nice lake house down state. Remote enough for twelve blokes to get absolutely fucking wasted and party all night. As any best man is obliged to do, I of course rented strippers to appease us boys. Until Jake’s fiancée Melanie found out and the fun was soon cancelled.
Jake, however, had whispered in my ear to get a dancer, a professional dancer. She didn’t even need to strip. But he needed a girl. One last girl. And I would’ve, except I know Jake.
We’ve been friends since college. Roommates who shared everything, including the occasional girl. We spent most nights talking endlessly over beer or scotch and cigarettes. About girls, life, relationships, our past and our future.
Jake is more sensitive than he pretends to be, underneath that professional and always crisp exterior. He doesn’t want to cheat, especially not the week before his wedding. He wants an emotional connection, a love, not some meat bag he puts his dick in and regrets the next morning. Not hiring a dancer is the greatest gift I could give him for his wedding.
So instead of putting him in a compromised position, I myself have taken up the mantle of stripper. That will surely get him to laugh his ass off. At least I hope so.
And now it’s here. The moment of truth. An hour ago, Jake, already slurring his words, took me apart to ask me where the dancer was. Was she still coming? Did I forget? I promised she was on her way and snuck out to the bathroom where I put on everything, from make-up to the stockings.
Outside I could hear the laughter and yelling of a dozen former frat boys getting shit faced. Let’s see what Angel can do to them.
Angel shakes off the last existential thoughts and walks into the living room. A few men are playing poker and are deeply focused on the game. Others are on the balcony chilling by the lake.
One by one the faces look up and drop. And the noise stops.
A moment of absolute silence. Angel swallows nervously but it’s too late to back out now. Instead, she smiles and pushes out her boobs.
“Anyone asked for a stripper?” Angel says. And she walks to the stereo and puts on the sexy pop song she has been rehearsing on.
And then a roar of laughter.
“HAHHAHAHA HOLY SHIT!!!” “THAT’S AMAZING!!” “BRO LOOK, LOOK!”
The men all jump and yell or fall over from laughter. Some come from outside rushing in to see. Others grab their phone.
Angel giggles. She loves the attention and gets into position, her back turned to her audience, booty out. One, two, three!
Under loud cheering as if they’re in a football stadium, Angel performs her routine. Hair flips, heel kicks, arms waving through the air. She worries if her wig will hold but the dance goes perfect. She’s got this.
She winks confidently at a guy next to her, who pretends to be hit in his heart. Another takes out his wallet and throws bills at her. Angel is loving it. And grows more confident and seductive.
With ease, as if she’s had them all her life, she pushes her arms against her breasts, making them pop. She twerks her ass, revealing her thin white thong underneath her dress. And her wavy locks bounce on her shoulders and breasts.
And in the small crowd of jumping and laughing and cheering men, she sees him. The groom.
Angel steps on the table to even louder cheering and pushes the other men aside. Jake shakes his head in disbelief but surrenders to the bit.
Angel pushes him in his chair and stands over his legs. She bends over and gives him an air kiss.
Camera’s flash and the audience goes wild. One guy touches her hair, and Angel quickly slaps him away. She belongs only to the groom.
Seductively she takes off her wings and gives them to a man, who pretends to smell them, to laughing of the others.
But it turns more serious when she also pushes down a strap of her dress over her shoulder.
Jake throws his hands in his face, shaking profusely.
“What are you doing man?” He laughs.
Angel doesn’t care. She knows she’s sexy. She knows they all want her. And with that confidence she pushes down her dress.
It gets stuck on her boobs and so she grabs them and massages them. She backs up and shows Jake her booty, shaking and bouncing on the tunes of another song that has started.
Jake slaps the ass hard and then squeezes in it.
“WOOO you like that don’t you!” One of the guys screams.
Skillfully Angel pushes down her dress without messing up her boobs and exposes her bare back to him.
And when she has reached her private parts, she turns back around and shakes her boobs in his face.
Jake motorboats them and holds them tight. And for a second Angel wonders why it feels so good. They’re plastic, not attached to her. But him massaging them sends tingles from her chest to her brain and down to her dick.
She grabs his hands and pushes them over his head, forcing him to surrender. Jake almost cries laughing. The men keep cheering and some have turned their phones into flashlights, spotlighting the action for all to see clearly.
Angel steps out of her dress and sits almost down on his lap and starts to ride the air.
A guy slaps her big smooth butt, but she throws him an angry look.
“Oeeeeeeh” the men jeer.
She takes one of Jake’s hands and puts it on her boobs again, wanting that feeling once more. She looks down at him and sees hungry eyes staring back.
She’s never seen him like this before. This… horny.
Jake has a jaw like an anvil, smooth and muscular. His face is manly, with big lips, big nose, square cheekbones and deep blue eyes. He is still built like the farmer’s son he grew up as. Broad shoulders, but toned, not like those fit boys from the gym. His arms are huge but without visible biceps. His belly is flat but without visible abs. A man’s man through and through. Though he’s always dressed in blouses or suits to compensate for his modest upbringing.