My best friends are three guys who were in the service with me. After our tours we wound up in the same city and we hang out and party together with our girlfriends. It just so happens that each of us has our girls living with them, so it is a nice social set. We have a lot in common.
A while back the guys planned to spend Saturday playing golf. The girls said this was fine with them because they were going to a hen party. If you have never heard of a hen party then you are in the same category we were. This is how it is supposed to work: it’s like multi-level-marketing for women. One woman holds the soirée at her place and arranges for all the refreshments. They sit around and talk and then the hostess brings out her order book and samples of the things she is selling. My mother would go to parties where they would sell containers to store food in the fridge. The hostess got a percentage in commission on what she sold. If she could talk another pigeon into hosting a party, she would get a percentage of those sales as well.
Well, my girl told me that this party was going to be for sexy underwear and ‘things.’ However, she would not look me in the eye. I wondered what the ‘things’ were. The three other girls from our group were going as well as about 15 other women.
One of my friends had a brilliant idea. He thought we could get into that house before the party and set up some ‘nanny cams’ and hook them up to his big screen in his media room. We could drink beer and watch what the women were doing. It seemed like a good idea at the time, although I don’t know if it was particularly legal.
The girls were meeting at my place and taking a taxi because they would be drinking at the party. The guys all pretended we were going golfing, but stopped by the store and picked up some hot wings and beer to nosh on during our private Victoria Secret fashion show. This was going to be the best entertainment we had had in months!
We watched as 19 or so women of various ages, sizes and shapes fluttered in to the party. The reason it’s called a hen party is because they sounded like a bunch of clacking chickens when they all talked at the same time. We learned early that the hostess was serving little finger sandwiches and mimosas. For you in the dark that is half orange juice and half champagne. While it tastes like a fruity drink, it can knock you on your butt.
The first order of business, after downing about three drinks, were for the women to go around the circle discussing the problems in her sex life. WTF? Where was the fashion show? We heard just about everything you can imagine from women complaining that they were sick of having to act like they were having an orgasm to those that said they hated telling their men they were good lovers. Luckily, none of our women had anything bad to say, except one. She said my friend snored and farted at the same time. My beer almost went through my nose. We are never going to let him live it down.
So then the she-devil began bringing out her wares. She started out tame with edible undies that were available in white or milk chocolate. She broke apart a pair so the women could sample how good the candy was. Then she got down to business. She brought out the crotchless panties, cupless bustiers and bras with holes in them so only the nipples were showing. She had nightgowns that almost didn’t exist. Then she asked for volunteers to model them. Since the women were half-gassed, she had a lot of volunteers.
When the show began our eyes were big as saucers. The crotchless panty women was totally nude and dancing around showing everyone her pussy. She said they would be great to wear to work where she wanted to bang her boss. My mouth began to get dry and I needed my beer more than ever. The bustier woman was naked from the waist down and the nipple woman had tits the size of a small island. All the guys were getting boners.
Then the devil woman brought out toys. She had videos of woman actually showing how to use them to get the best orgasm. Hell, we all knew how vibrators worked, so that was no big deal. One special attractions was the Ben-Wa balls. Several women confessed that they were not familiar with them. Devil-lady instructed one of them on how to stuff them in her pussy and come back and sit with the crowd. This meant she had to walk back in and sit in her seat. There were no false theatrics. This woman was wiggling and jiggling, and making all kinds of moans and groans. She had a damn orgasm in front of all the women! Naturally, each woman wanted to order a pair. I wanted to jerk off.
The next best toy was a dildo/vibrator that a woman could stick in her pussy and her butt as the same time. Some (most) of the women said that they knew butt-fucking was supposed to be good but they had never done it. The hostess explained that the dildo was not the right introduction. They should get used to lots of gooey lube and butt plugs (which she just happened to sell).
She had a video of a naked woman on a bed playing with her ass and inserting butt plugs. Yes, the instructions were correct, but jeez that was one hot video. The model ended the thing with getting off with an anal vibrator in her while she played with her pussy. It was no fake orgasm. Well, she sold the hell out of the butt plugs as well as the double dildo.
Some of the women were so horny that they said they had to get home and get fucked. I don’t know how the four of use even were able to walk, much less run, to our cars to get back home before the girls. When mine came in the house I was waiting for her in the nude with the general waiting at full attention. She didn’t question my motives when I said I had missed her. She didn’t ask about the golf game.
I bent her over the back of the sofa and fucked her silly. I was so horny I came in about two minutes, but I recovered very quickly and was able to last until she came, too.
The moral of the story is guys, if your woman tells you she’s going to a hen party expect her to order some pretty strange stuff. Also, be ready for a glorious fuck as soon as she comes home. Above all, do NOT let her host a party. Your heart couldn’t take the stress,