Bachelorette Party
Copyright© 2026 by Sandra Alek
Chapter 3
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3 - The groom’s best friend agrees to organize the perfect bachelorette party. But fate intervenes, and the celebration spirals quickly out of control. It ends in an unforgettable night full of forbidden desires, betrayal, and revelations. A year later, the truth surfaces in the most unexpected way.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Cheating Cuckold Group Sex Exhibitionism Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Voyeurism
Mark snatched the next shot before Samantha even finished speaking. Tequila poured into him like water into parched earth, but the fire in his stomach couldn’t drown out the growing roar in his ears.
“Okay, since you want heat...” Samantha splashed the clear liquid right to the rims, not spilling a drop. “I’ve never wanted to fuck a stranger.”
The room exploded in shrieks. Ten hands shot toward the table at once. Glasses clashed against wood; women shoved and grabbed. Ellie downed hers first, staring straight at Mark with such open challenge that his breath caught. He drank too. The mask got in the way; the leather edge was soaked with liquor, but he just tilted his head back harder.
“Ooooh, remember that time in Nice?” the redhead yelled, jabbing a finger at her friend. “That waiter! You followed him into the back room!”
“And you? At Kris’s bachelorette? That security guy!”
The laughter turned hysterical. Mark stood in the eye of the storm, and they forced him to move again. Someone shoved him hard in the chest, making him stumble back; someone else yanked his arm.
“Dance, ‘stranger’!” Samantha cranked the bass. Mark obeyed. He moved jerkily, clumsily, feeling the alcohol loosen his muscles and turn shame into a dull, heavy rage.
“Next!” Samantha was already pouring another round. “I’ve never wanted my fiancé’s—or husband’s—best friend.”
The music seemed to drop a notch. Five women silently reached for their glasses. In that sudden hush Ellie didn’t hesitate for a second. She snatched her shot, saluted Mark right in the face with it, and knocked it back.
“To Michael’s excellent taste in friends!” she shouted. The crowd howled approval.
Mark grabbed his glass so hard he nearly cracked it. He drank without tasting, only burning. This Ellie—he didn’t know her like this! Turns out she’d had an interest in him all along. The thought sent a pleasant jolt through him. He looked at her more closely, really looked. Long neck, full breasts, endless legs. A woman like that could give a man real pleasure.
“Now the classic!” Samantha was fully in her element. “I’ve never cheated.”
A murmur rolled through the room. Women shifted awkwardly; seven reached for drinks, but Ellie stayed perfectly still. Samantha gave her a mocking look.
“Oh, come on!”
Ellie waved a drunken hand. “I’m not married yet, so it doesn’t count!”
Mark drank for that one too. This version of Ellie was starting to appeal to him even more than the modest girl he’d known before. He was actually enjoying the dance now, sweating under the mask while the women around him reminisced about their “vacation adventures.”
“Remember that yoga instructor?” someone shrieked from the left. “You said you were going on a retreat!”
“Final warm-up!” Samantha raised the last glass in the row. “I’ve never given a blowjob to a stranger.”
Whispers, whistles, stifled giggles. Four women drank immediately. Samantha made it five.
Mark stared at her in disbelief. Well damn. Wonder if her husband knows? He drained his shot in total amazement. The night was getting more interesting by the minute!
Ellie slowly licked her lips, eyes fixed on Mark’s bare torso. She picked up her shot, clinked it so hard against the table it nearly shattered, and downed it to the bottom.
Mark felt the floor tilt beneath him. Shy, modest Ellie? His whole body shook. He grabbed a second glass, tossed it back, and finally the tequila hit properly—every fear evaporated. Everyone here was the same. He had nothing left to be afraid of. He knew too much about them now.
“And the sweetest one,” Samantha said, lifting the last bottle. “I’ve never wanted to fuck this gorgeous guy right here. Right now.”
Ellie laughed—loud, bold—tossing her veil back over her shoulder.
“You’ve seen him? What, you think I’m blind?” She snatched the shot, drank it, and slammed the empty glass into the oak so hard it rang. “And I’m not planning to just want it!”
She pushed off the table and started toward him. Mark tensed. He wanted to step back, but hands shoved at his back, stealing his space. He closed his eyes, but they snapped open again, locked on her. The fabric of his briefs stretched tight, betraying him to the entire room.
“Hey, looks like he’s not against it either!” one of the girls yelled, camera already trained.
Ellie approached slowly, hips swaying to the bass. She closed the distance until her alcohol-hot palms pressed flat against his chest. She dragged her nails downward, all the way to his stomach.
“You heard what I just drank to, right?” she asked, peering up into the slits of the mask.
She dropped to her knees in one smooth motion. The white dress rode up, exposing her thighs against the dirty concrete. The bridesmaids closed ranks around them, phones hovering overhead like vultures. Ellie grabbed the waistband of Mark’s briefs and yanked hard, forcing him to step forward—right into her face. She tilted her head back, looking up at him, fingers scraping skin as they found the edge of the fabric. The music in the loft dropped to a hush, leaving only a low, bone-rattling beat that crawled under the skin. The circle of ten women had tightened so close that Mark could feel the heat radiating off their bodies. With a mix of horror and a strange, electric thrill in his chest, he realized he was hard — and he wanted what was about to happen.
Phone flashes sliced through the red half-light, capturing every twitch, every breath.
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