Naughty Bride-to-Be

I dressed up as a pop star on my hen weekend and got fucked.

My hen weekend had finally arrived, and London was calling. My friend’s inevitably planned a fancy dress theme for one of the nights. Saturday. We were all to go out as pop-stars. But when they told me I had to dress up as Katy Perry from her California Gurls music video, I almost died. Not because I didn’t love the idea, because I did, but because of what the costume entailed.

I was twenty-seven at the time. 5ft 8ins, around 130lbs, a curvy brunette with blue eyes and big boobs. As I stood in front of the hotel mirror, adjusting the blue wig that cascaded around my shoulders, I grabbed my phone and took a provocative selfie, then sent it to my fiancé Ryan. He texted back, telling me I looked hot, and that I would be wearing it in the bedroom for him.

To be fair, the costume looked the part, hugging my curves in all the right places. The denim-effect short shorts stuck to me like glue, accentuating my rounded buttocks and firm thighs, while showcasing my long, slender legs. I took one look at my ass in the mirror, and knew I was going to get groped.

The iconic blue bra top left nothing to the imagination. It’s cherry topped cream cakes sat perfectly over my tits, while the scooped neckline plunged deep, pushing them together to create a cleavage that was practically spilling out. I looked like a walking dessert for any red-blooded male. But I have to admit, I loved the thought of that.

How we didn’t get thrown out, when we congregated in the lobby, I’ll never know. There were eight of us in total. Britney Spears, Madonna, Lady Gaga, some retro Spice Girls, and me as Katy Perry, of course. We went to the bar for a drink, attracting all kinds of strange looks from the other guests.

I was then handed a wedding veil to attach to my wig. I didn’t want to wear it, I was already drawing enough attention in the risqué costume as it was, but I accepted I couldn’t go out on my hen night without the world knowing that I was the bride-to-be, so I put it on to appease my friends.

If I didn’t know how much fun the night was going to be, I soon did when I stepped up to the bar and locked eyes with the cute bartender waiting to serve us. He was tall, blonde, athletic, and a bit older. Early-thirties, I reckoned. His gaze dipped into my cleavage before he asked what I wanted.

I didn’t mind, with breasts as full as mine, I was used to it. In fact, I quite like it when attractive men look. Plus, there was no point in being uptight about it. My tits were on display, so I thrust my chest out and ordered a round of shots and wine. But when the bartender handed me the receipt to sign, charging the drinks to my room, our hands touched and then our eyes locked again.

There was undoubtedly a mutual, physical attraction between us. While he smirked, I blushed and giggled. I was supposed to be marrying the love of my life the following month, yet there I was, already flirting.

“Where are you lovely ladies headed tonight?” he asked curiously, as my friends helped themselves to the drinks on the bar.

“We’ll be around Covent Garden,” I replied, handing him the signed receipt, my heart fluttering.

“Nice, maybe I’ll bump into you later. I’d love to buy you a congratulations drink,” he said, his voice smooth and deep. “Enjoy your night,” he added confidently with a wink.

“I will… Bradley,” I assured him, feeling a little giddy as I read his name tag out loud.

We moved to a corner, away from everyone trying to enjoy a quiet drink. Feeling out of place in there, to be honest, we downed our first shots of the night then spent about half an hour enjoying the wine, while the girls mapped out the bars we were going to visit.

I’d never been out drinking in London before, and I quickly fell in love with Covent Garden. It was busy and lively, a perfect setting for a hen party. Despite not being the only people in fancy dress, we drew lots of attention, and I lost count how many times my ass was touched, grabbed and squeezed.

Ending up in a nightclub, Anna, in her Britney Spears’ schoolgirl outfit, was soon grinding against some guy who looked like he’d won the lottery. Jess, clad in Madonna’s material girl costume, was also getting busy with two hunky black guys, and Emma, wearing a replica of Geri Halliwell’s Union Jack dress, was snogging some random guy.

The other girls were scattered around me, drinking, laughing, dancing, and attracting their own attention. None of us were married yet, but none of us were single, either, and some of the group were already mothers. But that didn’t stop us from embracing the hen party atmosphere.

On the dance floor, amongst the flashing lights and pounding music, I felt hands on me, groping and squeezing in a way that was both fun and a little too bold. A guy in a tight shirt pressed up against my back, his hands sliding down my waist before venturing lower. I giggled, telling him off playfully as I pushed his hands away, but not too firmly.

After all, it was my hen party, and I intended to enjoy every second of it. A few minutes later, a handsome black man with a cheeky grin leaned in and complemented my curvy figure and blue hair, his hands also roaming my ass. I thanked him and laughed, striking a pose with one hand on my hip as I flicked the wig dramatically with the other.

A short while later, I felt another presence behind me. Stronger hands settled on my waist, pulling me back against a firm body. I turned my head slightly, catching a glimpse of the delicious bartender from the hotel, looking even more delicious in a fitted black shirt that showed off his muscular arms.

“Bradley!” I exclaimed, a little too excitedly.

“Are you having fun?” he asked, chuckling as I turned around. “Shall I call you Katy or…”

“Louise,” I laughed, draping my arms around his neck as he held my waist again. Yes, I was very tipsy by now. “I’m having lots of fun.”

“Good.” His gorgeous eyes gazed into mine, just like they did at the hotel. The chemistry between us was very dangerous, exciting me as we began to move as one with the music. “I don’t know whether to buy you a drink or kiss you,” he added, grinning.

“You can do both, if you like,” I unashamedly encouraged him, giggling flirtatiously.

It felt like we were in a bubble, frozen in time, while every one and thing around us continued to move forwards. Bradley leaned closer, our lips touching and parting, our tongues coming together for a slow, hot, sexy kiss. I was so aroused, ignoring my intuition to behave, following my darkest desire to enjoy my last night of freedom.

We kissed for several minutes before he spun me around and pulled me tight against him. He placed one hand on my exposed midriff and the other on my hip, kissing my neck as the blue wig fell on the other side. Instinctively, I rubbed my ass against his crotch, purring to myself as we began to bump and grind on the dance floor.

“You look so hot in this costume,” he breathed in my ear, his fingers splayed across my stomach as if he owned me. His other hand reached the underside of my bra top. “I wanted you the moment I saw you.”

“Do me a favour and lose my veil,” I instructed him, feeling something hard rubbing against my ass. I wanted him too.

Bradley removed the veil attached to my wig, discarding it on the floor before holding me again. It was so exciting, I didn’t protest when he cupped a breast over my bra top, underneath the playful cream cake. I released a soft groan and reached behind me to grab his crotch. All the while, his lips grazed my neck and along my shoulder.

I felt his warm breath against my skin, felt his hands on my body, his arousal through his jeans, and my pussy throbbed as a consequence. The moist heat stuck to my shorts, for I wasn’t wearing any underwear. I couldn’t, not with how short and tight they were. I wasn’t thinking about how far this might go. I was simply living in the moment.

When the next song began to play, I turned around to face him and wrapped my arms around his neck for another sexy kiss. Everything just flowed naturally between us. His hands moved down, cupping my ass, squeezing the plump flesh filling the shorts. He pulled me in tighter, squashing my cream cakes and cleavage against his chest.

I could feel his bulge pressing against my tummy now, giving me even naughtier thoughts. I wanted to take it out, stroke it in my hand then get down on my knees and suck it. My mouth produced extra saliva at the thought as we continued to kiss. Then a couple of the girls poked me in the back, laughing and teasing me for being a bad girl.

I broke from the kiss and gently pushed him away, embarrassed. “You can buy me that drink now,” I told him, blushing crimson.

“What happens in London, stays in London,” my friend Sara winked at me with a mischievous grin, dressed as Posh Spice in a pair of tight, leather pants and a gaping blouse. “He’s hot, so be careful,” she added. Sara was twenty-eight, a mother of one with a boyfriend at home. She’d become my alibi.

Before I could respond, Bradley took my hand, my left hand, with the expensive diamond engagement ring, no less, and hauled me off the dance floor to the bar. I went with him willingly, my heart racing, my head hazy, and my erogenous zones throbbing as we weaved through the crowd, my eyes scanning warily for my friends.

We found a vacant, discreet booth to have our drink. I removed the blue wig and shook my head, sorting my long, brown hair out. Bradley told me how beautiful and sexy I was, making me blush again. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop him or myself. He kissed me before raising a celebratory toast.

“To the beautiful bride-to-be, on her last night of freedom,” he grinned, as we gazed at one another and clinked our glasses.

“To my last night of freedom,” I responded absently, fuelled by alcohol, lust and desire.

We took a sip, knowing I might have just agreed to something that would take us further beyond the pale. Bradley’s gaze was intense and full of anticipation. I couldn’t believe how easy I was being. It was totally out of character. It wasn’t even as if he was the only hot guy to ever hit on me. That glance at the hotel bar had definitely unearthed something insidious inside me.

Everything was back to front. After all the flirting, kissing, the bump and grind, we sat and had a conversation. He was thirty-two, working at the hotel while he completed a business degree, citing an earlier life of travel and adventure for him being a mature student. I told him I was twenty-seven, a hairdresser, and obviously about to marry.

“But you’re not married yet,” he grinned mischievously, placing a hand on my thigh.

“No, not yet,” I murmured, feeling a whirlwind of emotions that I couldn’t sort out. I didn’t know why, but I wanted him.

I wanted his hands on me, his mouth, his cock. My nipples were hard and sensitive at the naughty idea, rubbing against the inside of the candy-themed bra top, while my pussy clenched in need between my thighs. I either couldn’t or didn’t want to think clearly. I had this feeling of now or never, not weighing up the consequences of betrayal.

“I have to be honest with you, Louise. You already know it, but I still need to say it.” He leaned closer, staring into my eyes. “I want you, and I think you want me to take you.”

“That’s a very bold thing to say,” I giggled, feeling the warmth pooling inside my shorts.

“Maybe, but it’s also the truth,” he smirked knowingly, brushing his lips against mine.

An uncontrollable sigh escaped me. “Then what are you waiting for?” I challenged, knowing how wet and turned on I was.

Kissing me softly, our lips barely parting, our tongues touching lightly, Bradley pushed my thighs apart and slipped his hand between them. The table and darkened area provided privacy. Feeling his fingers pressing against my pussy through the fabric of the tight shorts, I brought my hand up and lightly slapped it against his face, moaning.

“Do you remember my room number,” I breathed, opening my legs wider. I’d given it to him at the hotel bar, buying the drinks.

“Would you think it creepy if I did?” he asked, rubbing circles against my crotch.

“Oh, God,” I moaned. “A little bit.”

“Yeah, I remember your room number,” he said, slipping his tongue inside my mouth.

“What time is it now?” I asked, breathless, grinding my buttocks against the soft seat.

“Almost half twelve,” he replied, pulling his hand away, but it didn’t move very far. He stroked my inner thighs with his fingers.

“Meet me there in an hour,” I told him, sitting up with my legs together. “I need to rejoin my friends. “Don’t be late,” I giggled, then left him beaming with excitement.

My friends were being no angels themselves. Sara, Posh Spice, the only one who’d paid any noteworthy attention to my antics, was getting very cosy with a guy at the bar, her moderate bust on full view. The others were scattered around the dance floor, enjoying London to the fullest. Sara saw me carrying the blue wig and waved.

The guy she was talking to pulled out his phone as we stepped aside to talk. Sara wasn’t my maid-of-honour. That duty fell to my sister, who unfortunately was stuck in Australia, but she’d be there for the wedding. However, Sara was the only one who’d called me out earlier on what I was doing with Bradley on the dance floor.

“Where’s the cute guy you were getting off with?” she teased.

“You can talk,” I laughed, glancing at the guy at the bar. “What are you doing with him?”

“What do you think I’m doing with him?” she laughed, blasé. “I’m taking him back to the hotel with me. We all have our secrets, Louise,” she winked. “Where’s your guy?”

“Never you mind,” I laughed, blushing hard.

“Like that, is it?” she laughed back, sensing my hesitation. “Go and enjoy your last night of freedom, Louise. I’ll tell the girls you were sick in the toilet, so I put you in a taxi.”

I looked around for the others, torn about what to do. I couldn’t see them, and I felt this pull inside me. Do I stay or do I go? Sara put her hand on my arm. “Go and get laid on your hen night,” she said. “I’ll cover for you.”

In a moment of madness, I kissed her on the cheek and dashed off in my heels. Bradley was still sat in the booth, but he was now joined by a friend of his. He took one look at me and then his friend, who chuckled before leaving us alone. But I wasn’t back to take a seat, and I told him so. Bradley beamed once more, then we left the club.

I put my phone on silent mode and jumped into the back of a taxi with the hotel bartender. We kissed and fumbled under the watchful eye of the driver, who also couldn’t take his eyes off my legs and cleavage. Without the wig on my head, I felt exposed, like part of my disguise was missing, but it was beside me in the back.

After making it back to the hotel, just about unscathed, Bradley told me to walk on ahead. He didn’t want to risk being seen with one of the guests, so I went up to my room alone. Full of nervous excitement, I fumbled with the key card before I finally opened my door and stumbled inside. My heart was pounding as I removed my heels.

I stood in front of the mirror, the very place where it all began, and checked the costume was tidy and presentable. I laughed when I saw my left breast was trying to escape. I pushed it back in then quickly brushed the knots out of my hair, adrenaline and trepidation reeking havoc inside me, waiting impatiently for Bradley to knock the door.

I didn’t have to wait long. I opened it and he pushed me inside, up against the wall, his lips capturing mine like they’d been doing in the club. I welcomed him and grabbed his face, pushing my tongue deeper. It was red hot passion on my hen night, with a man I wasn’t marrying, but with a man who was going to give me my last night of freedom.

“You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen in this hotel,” he said, his voice dripping with lust as his hands cupped my ass, squeezing.

“Nothing to do with the fact that I’m getting married next week,” I replied playfully, my breathing heavy and short, so aroused.

“It never crossed my mind,” he chuckled. “Now, let me see these beauties in all their glory.” Bradley helped me remove the bra top, catching my breasts when they spilled free. “Fuck, they’re perfect,” he gasped, scooping them up in his hands.

I placed my palms flat on the wall and thrust my chest out at him, encouraging another man to grope my tits as his thumbs rubbed across my nipples. They were already rock hard, aching to be suckled. Bradley seemed awed, squeezing gently, weighing my flesh in his hands before leaning down to take a sensitive teat into his mouth, giving them equal attention for a few exciting minutes.

I felt my pussy getting wetter and warmer the longer he spent on them. And as much as I believed he would’ve spent the next hour playing with my tits, I needed more. I took control and dropped to my knees in front of him, my hands moving with urgency to get his cock out. I unbuckled, unzipped, and then pulled down, until it sprang free.

His cock was so hard and beautiful, nice and thick too. I just about got my hand around the base of the shaft. My libido on autopilot, I licked the moist, engorged head before wrapping my lips around it, unashamedly sucking and stroking another man’s cock on my hen night, feeling a stranger effectively, throbbing inside my mouth, tasting his juice.

“Oh fuck, Louise,” he exclaimed, grabbing one of my breasts. “Marry me instead.”

Accepting his praise, I moaned and took him deeper, his girth stretching my lips around the velvety skin of his shaft. His other hand tangled in my hair as my head began to bob back and forth, sucking his cock as if it were the last one on earth. I couldn’t get enough of it. I pulled back slightly and swirled my tongue around the head, driving him insane.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum if you keep going,” he panted after only five minutes, releasing his grip on my hair and pulling me off.

His thick cock slipped from my mouth with a wet popping sound, then he helped me to my feet and gave me another passionate kiss. Grabbing my ass in the shorts, the only clothing I wore now, Bradley guided me over to the bed, laying me down gently. Our eyes locked, no words, just actions. He curled his fingers inside my shorts and pulled them off.

“I can’t wait to eat you out,” he growled at my shaven mound, soaking and swollen.

“Me and you both,” I teased, spreading my legs for him, gagging to be devoured.

“Fuck, you’re awesome,” he grinned, sliding his hands up and down my smooth legs.

He then went down on his knees. I felt my throbbing lips open up for him, needing his touch. Bradley didn’t hesitate, he ran his tongue up my slit, causing my back to arch off the mattress. I grabbed my breasts and squeezed them together, my body sizzling hot and spicy. I so desperately needed him to make me come. I needed some release.

“Oh yes,” I panted, as his tongue slid through my folds, finding my clit.

He was good, so good, I moaned repeatedly, bucking my hips against his face as he buried it in my mound and probed my opening with his skilled tongue. He moved up to my clit, flicking, while slowly pushing a finger into my body. In and out, he took his time pleasuring my wet hole, with his tongue and finger, taking his turn to drive me insane.

“Yes! Yes!” I grabbed his head, pulling. “Yes. Don’t stop. I’m gonna cum.”

I knew he wouldn’t stop, and he didn’t. Bradley lapped at my folds, adding a second finger, forcing my heart to pound and my back to arch rigidly. I finally cried out, filling the hotel room with the sounds of euphoria as I climaxed on the bed, releasing so much tension. He then kissed the inside of my thighs, retracting slowly while I recovered.

“Are you ready to get fucked, Louise?” he asked, standing up to remove his clothes.

“Definitely,” I purred, watching him undress, revealing a hard body that matched his cock.

“Tell me how much you want it,” he teased, climbing onto the bed with me, rubbing himself against my opening. I sighed, lifting my hips, trying to take him in.

“Don’t tease me,” I begged. “Just put it in and fuck me.”

“Tell me, is the bride-to-be in need of a hard cock on her hen night?”

“Yes, now put it in and fuck me,” I demanded, breathless.

Grinning, Bradley sank his thick cock into my pussy, filling me completely. I gasped, wrapping my arms and legs around him as he began to move his hips slowly. Each thrust went deeper than the last, stretching me like nobody had ever done, then he set a steady pace, rolling his hips against mine.

“Oh, you feel so good,” he groaned, gripping my waist, sucking on a nipple. “So fucking tight and wet. Oh yes, I’m gonna fill you up.”

“Yes!” I exclaimed, feeling my inner walls contracting around him. God, he went deep, hitting places that made my eyes roll and my toes curl. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it!” he spat. “Cum for me!”

Crying out, I exploded on his cock, my pussy clenching as I held onto him, sinking my teeth into his shoulder as he buried himself to the hilt. “Oh fuck! Yes! Oh fuck! Yes!”

“You like that, Louise? Yeah, you naughty girl. Grip my cock with your pussy,” he hissed, thrusting in and out of me deeply until my orgasm subsided. It was amazing.

“Oh fuck, that was intense,” I said, gasping for air. He then pulled me up, my brown hair falling down my back, and kissed me hard. “Now, it’s your turn to lie down,” I breathed.

He rolled onto his back. I straddled him, grabbing his cock as his hands grabbed my breasts. I then slowly impaled myself and began to move my hips, taking control, gradually increasing the pace until I was able to ride him comfortably. God, his cock was so thick. It stretched and went deep, hitting me exactly where I needed him to.

I couldn’t believe that I was going to climax again. Grinding my pussy on his cock, he grabbed my hips and started thrusting from underneath, telling me to come. My breasts bounced heavy and wildly, adding to the seediness of our tryst. Then I exploded in ecstasy again, screaming up at the ceiling.

When my orgasm had finished with me, I fell forwards, slamming my hands into his chest. Bradley exhaled a deep breath at the force, then grinned as my tits hovered above his face. We laughed, finding something amusing about the situation. But neither of us were done yet. I felt I had one more left in me, and he still needed to empty his balls.

“I want you to fuck me from behind,” I confessed, kissing him deeply. “And I want to be facing the mirror,” I purred.

I watched the smirk grow on his face before he positioned me on all fours, facing the mirror. I looked and felt so wanton, ready to get fucked hard and deep by another man.

“Arch your back,” he said, nudging his cock into my pussy, but I didn’t respond. “I said arch your back,” he grunted, pulling my hair harshly as he entered me in one deep thrust.

I cried out at the sudden penetration, then continued moaning like a slut as he used my pussy relentlessly. “Yes! Fuck me!” I demanded, pushing back to meet him.

Hands on the bed, gripping the covers, my breasts swung every time he slammed into me. The deep thrusting rippled through my body, triggering another orgasm. As I quivered on my hands and knees, Bradley pushed my head down and fucked me hard and fast, my tits squashed against the mattress as he growled loudly.

“Oh fuck, yeah!” he roared, burying himself to the hilt. “Tell me to cum inside you.”

“Yes! Fuck my pussy! Fill me up! I wanna feel you coming deep inside me,” I wailed, the side of my face pressed against the duvet as I took it like a helpless little slut. “Fill me!”

I could feel every inch of his cock, filling and stretching my pussy. He started groaning like an animal, his thrusts becoming erratic. I then felt his cock swell and twitch inside me.

“I’m gonna cum!” he roared once more.

“Yes! Cum inside me!” I exclaimed.

With a deep, throaty groan, Bradley slammed into my body and ejaculated, firing ropes of thick, warm cum deep inside my pussy, drowning my womb in his orgasm. His fingers dug into my hips, gripping, until he’d finished giving me everything he had.

“Oh fuck,” he sighed, pulling out, his cum dripping from my pussy, pooling on the bed between my legs. “That was unbelievable.”

“Tell me about it,” I exhaled, rolling over onto my back.

“Give me five minutes and we can go again,” he laughed, running his hands over my breasts, knowing it was the last time he’d get to see and feel them.

“No chance,” I sighed exhausted at the thought of doing all that again. I needed to sleep.

“I’m joking, and I guess this is where we say goodbye.” Bradley smiled into my eyes.

I reached my hand up to his face as he sat beside me, my chest rising and falling as I continued to recover my breath. “Thank you,” I smiled back at him. “You were amazing.”

“Ditto,” he said, leaning down for one last kiss.

As he put his clothes back on to leave, I slithered under the duvet, his cum trickling out of me, sticking to my thighs. Only when he finally left, did the horror of my actions hit home. I’d cheated on my hen night. Not only did I cheat, but I didn’t even make him use a condom.

My only saving grace, was having enough time to get myself checked out before the wedding. Denying my husband-to-be my pussy, until I knew I was clean, should have been enough to stop me from ever straying again. But it sadly didn’t.