Message-ID: <23487asstr$954832205@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: michaeld38@aol.communism (MichaelD38) X-Original-Message-ID: <20000403171742.22701.00002369@nso-cg.aol.com> Subject: {ASSM} The Teaser {MichaelD}(MF, FF, MFF, rom)(3/6) Date: Tue, 4 Apr 2000 03:10:05 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: newsman, IceAltar, Lambchop, gill-bates *********************************************** The Teaser Copyright 2000 by MichaelD38@aol.com Free redistribution permitted; no commerical use without authorization. Archives at www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MichaelD/www ************************************************ V. I was at work a few days later when Preston called about the bachelor party. "Hey, any friend of Kate's is a friend of mine. If you want come, you're welcome. Did she tell you where we're going?" "Miami, right?" "You bet. We're staying on the South Beach. I got the whole top floor of the hotel rented out so we've got plenty of room for you. Should have a blast." He went for a minute or two about all the debauchery they had planned for the weekend: Booze, golf, strippers, etc., etc. "I'll call my travel agent and get her to send you the plane ticket." "I can take care of that myself. It's okay." "Hey, all expenses paid, bud. Don't worry about it. She'll send you the whole itinerary. We're going to meet at the airport and take a couple of limos over to the hotel." "Okay. I guess I'll see you there." "You bet. Catch you later." When he hung up, I had to force myself to set the phone down gently rather than pitch it through the window across from my desk. Luckily I had a ton of work to do, and I didn't have time to dwell on how much I despised this guy already. * * * I didn't hear from either of them for a couple of weeks. The plane ticket to Miami arrived in the mail a few days after I spoke with Preston, and I got permission from the firm to take that Friday off work. I spent a few days wondering if keeping my promise to Kate about reporting the details of this weekend would torpedo her marriage. I didn't know for certain what Preston was going to do, but based on what he had told me, and my impressions of him over the phone, I had a feeling that he wasn't planning on behaving himself. But, I kept saying to myself, Kate had to know this--she had to know what kind of person he was, and she was still marrying him. Because this wasn't really about Preston. It was about $100 million being held in trust for her by Bank of Boston. * * * Kate called me a few days before I left for Miami. "Are you ready for all this?" I laughed. "I don't know. It sounds like it's going to be pretty wild." "Just have fun. Don't feel like you have to take notes or anything." "Okay." I heard her taking a deep breath. "Anyway, I'm calling because there's something else I need to warn you about. I didn't mention this last month when we had lunch because I hadn't heard from her. She hadn't RSVP'd yet." "Who?" "Um . . . Mara. She's going to be at the wedding." I sighed. "Oh." "We've kind of stayed friends, so of course I was going to invite her. But she lives in Chicago now, so I didn't really think she was going to come." "It's all right. It's your wedding." "Have you guys kept in touch at all?" "No. I haven't seen or heard from her since graduation." "You won't have to talk to her. There'll be 500 other people there." "Don't worry about it. It's not that big a deal." "Thanks. Have fun in Miami, okay?" * * * Friday morning, I took a cab to Kennedy and got on the flight south. We got into Miami International about one, and I made my way toward the baggage claim area, where I was supposed to meet Preston and his friends. They should have gotten in a little bit before I did, and when I got there, I spotted them immediately. I didn't think there would be more than one group of twenty-something rich kids meeting here, even had there not been a limo driver standing there with a "MacAllister" sign in his hands. Most of them were standing around holding golf bags and joking about the upcoming weekend. One of them, a tall, good-looking guy with dark hair, seemed to be directing things, so I went up to him. "Is this the bachelor party? I'm Tom Dempsey." He shook my hand. "Hey, good to meet you. I'm Phillip Macintosh. I'm the best man. You're that friend of Kate's?" "Right." He checked my name off on a list he was holding and got the attention of one of the other guys there. "Preston!" Kate's fiance' was shorter than I was but more heavily built. His sandy blonde hair was haphazardly styled at best, and he wore what looked like a very expensive Sea Island cotton button-down shirt. I don't know how much stemmed from my knowledge of the situation, but I disliked him the instant I saw him. He came up to us with a big grin on his face and shook my hand roughly. "Hey! Good to see you. Thanks for coming." "Thanks for inviting me." "The more the merrier. You got all your bags?" "All I've got is carry-on." He turned to Phillip. "We got everyone?" "This is it." "Cool." He raised his voice and motioned toward the doors. "Let's go! Let the party begin!" Whooping it up, Preston and his friends headed out toward the limousines. One of the drivers took my bags, and I ended up in the second limo. We drove east toward Miami Beach, and I spent the time trying to get to know the other guests. Most of them were high school or college buddies of Preston's, and I had enough of a mutual conversation topic in Yale to make me feel like I wouldn't be completely lost that weekend. The hotel was at the extreme south end of Miami Beach, off Ocean Avenue, in the art deco district of South Beach. It was a relatively small, all-suite place, and Preston had indeed rented the entire top floor for his party. We didn't need every single room, but this apparently ensured that they could run wild without overly disturbing the other guests. * * * I managed to avoid Preston for the rest of the day, even when we all went out to dinner that night and he got monumentally drunk on a succession of designer shots. We had reservations for golf the next morning, and he somehow pulled himself together enough to come with us. I was assigned to a foursome consisting of myself, a guy Preston had worked with at Merrill Lynch, and two of his fraternity brothers from Yale. I had never been much of a golfer, but I had enough experience to avoid completely embarrassing myself. My partners weren't much better, but since we were doing a best-ball scramble, it didn't really matter much. "Do you know what's going on tonight?" I asked as we were finishing up the sixth hole. "Strippers," one of the frat brothers said. "Plural?" "So Phillip said." "How many?" I asked. "I'm not sure. But it sounded like it might be a bunch of them." The analyst laughed. "What, like three or four?" "More than that. He was talking like six of them. Maybe more." "Jesus," I said. "What I heard," the other frat brother said, "and don't quote me on this, but the way Preston was talking about it, I think they might be something more than just strippers." The other three of us exchanged a look. "Seriously?" the analyst asked. "I don't know. You know how full of shit Preston is. But I got the distinct impression he was expecting more out of them than just taking their drawers off and dancing around." "Six hookers," I said evenly. "I didn't say that," he responded, "I just said it sounded like that." The analyst laughed again. "Oh, fuck. This should be good." * * * We finished the golf by about noon and had lunch nearby, drinking heavily and generally behaving like asses. The energy of the weekend was beginning to carry me along, and as the day progressed, I found myself wavering between disgust with Preston and anticipation of what we were going to do that night. At least I didn't have to worry that I was cheating on anyone myself. We spent the afternoon around the pool, went out to eat again that night, and then headed back to the hotel. Phillip had ordered up a full bar's worth of alcohol for the party, and we collected in the two adjoining suites at the back end of the building, where the hotel looked out on the beach. We rearranged the furniture to create a dance floor, and put a chair in the midst of it for Preston to sit in. Someone produced two boxes of bootleg Cohiba Robustos, and the entire floor was soon clouded with pungent cigar smoke. One of the limo drivers who had been ferrying us around arrived at ten with the girls in tow. Not wanting to create a scene in the lobby, Phillip had warned the concierge about them, and the hotel staff brought them in through the service entrance when they showed up. There were indeed six of them, two blondes, two brunettes, and two redheads, all with the tanned, toned, aerobicized and implanted physiques of professional dancers. Some of the guys whooped it up when they arrived, but most of us just stayed put and watched as the girls filed into one of the bedrooms to get ready. Phillip and the limo driver worked out the finances in one corner of the room while the rest of us waited. Preston was already half-drunk by this point, sitting in his chair with a cigar in one hand, a bottle of Bacardi in the other, and big shit- eating grin on his face. Someone started up the music, and the girls emerged en masse about ten minutes later For about an hour, they stripped, danced around naked, took off most of Preston's clothes, and otherwise did their best to entertain us. They worked their way around the room from one guest to another, and I got a good look at just about all of them. I was sitting on one of the couches in a corner of the room, and at one point, I had one of the blondes--a cute little thing who looked all of twenty, if that--in my lap while one of the redheads was next to me on someone else's. After displaying their breasts and privates to us from several different angles, they leaned together to kiss for a few seconds as the guys around us yelled encouragements. The redhead reached over to caress the blonde girl's breasts, then they separated and moved on. As my view cleared, I looked over at Preston, seeing him down to his boxers with one of the brunettes rubbing herself all over him. He seemed to be enjoying himself. The girls finally took a break and went back to the bedroom, and the limo driver then announced that the "love act" was next. More whooping and cheering greeted that announcement. The analyst I had played golf with that morning had been on couch with me, and he got up now to refill his drink. Phillip was standing by the bar, and I saw them talking as he poured himself another glass of whiskey. He returned a moment later and nudged me, grinning, as he sat down. "Jake was right. They're all hookers, *and* they've all been paid for already." "Paid for?" "Yep. Preston and Phillip worked something out with the escort service. When they get done with the show, they're all available if you want them." I wanted to ask "Preston did this?" except I knew the answer to that question already. Instead I just tried to nod and grin. "Which one do you like?" he asked. "I don't know. Maybe that blonde who was on my lap." "I want that redhead with the big tits. Man, she gave me some wood." The girls returned, still naked, and as the limo driver put on some slow romantic music, they came together in a clump in the middle of the room, kissing and fondling each other. I tried to relax and enjoy this, but I kept looking over at Preston, wondering if he was really going screw one of these girls tonight. And I wondered what Kate was doing at that moment, how she would react to this bacchanal we had orchestrated, to seeing her fiance' cheering and laughing over the mass of limbs at his feet, mouths locked to breasts, to pussies, all sorts of feigned cries of ecstasy in the air. After about ten minutes, the mass orgy began to break up, and the girls split up into pairs to continue performing around the room. The blonde and the redhead who had danced on the couch before returned to us, to the analyst's delight. The blonde girl straddled me, leaning in to suck on my earlobe, before lying flat across our laps. The redhead bent down, pulling her partner's thigh up onto her shoulder, and commenced eating her. The blonde girl writhed around, gripping her breasts, moaning softly, groping at us. She reached for my crotch and began massaging me, trying to give me an erection. To my mild embarrassment, she succeeded. The redhead continued to eat and finger the blonde until her partner feigned a massive orgasm after a few minutes. Then they switched places, the redhead climbing onto the back of the couch between us, propping her feet on our shoulders. The blonde girl knelt in front of her and leaned in to lick at her. Her friend moaned and writhed around and clawed at our hair. The analyst apparently could no longer stand to just be a spectator at this, and reached over to stroke the blonde girl's butt. I expected her to stop him, but she didn't, even when he reached in to play with her little tits. Instead, she reached over to me, took my hand, and pulled me into the action. I was more than a little surprised at this until I remembered that these girls had already been paid to have sex with all of us, so a little fondling was hardly out of bounds. Similar scenes were taking place around the room, and I looked again for Preston. I wished I hadn't. He was across the room with one of the brunettes and the other redhead, lying on his back. The brunette was straddling his face, and although I couldn't quite see what was going on, it was obvious enough what he was doing. The redhead stood over them with her legs in a V while the brunette leaned forward to eat her. The redhead on the back of the couch grabbed my head and turned me back around to watch her and her friend, looking down at me and licking her lips. The blonde was still licking and sucking on her friend's clit and labia, and the analyst now had his hand between the blonde's legs, rubbing away. The redhead cried out, clawing again at my hair and the analyst's, and thrashed around as if she were in agony. When her "orgasm" subsided, she pulled the blonde up to kiss her. Then they slid off the couch and went to perform for another group. I got up to make myself another drink, and that taken care of, I stood by the bar finishing my Cohiba and watching the various performances around the room. Preston was still engaged with the brunette and the redhead, but I tried not to watch. The less I saw, the less I had to tell Kate. Phillip appeared and took the stool beside me. "Pretty wild, huh?" "No kidding." "My cousin just got out of the Navy. He was a SEAL, and he told me a couple of times about stuff like this they used to get into in Thailand and the Philippines." I grinned. "Probably a lot cheaper though." Phillip laughed. "No shit." "Did I hear right earlier, you guys bought all these girls for the night?" "Yep." He laughed again. "Don't ask how much it cost, but yeah. They're here until three, and whatever you want, they'll do." I heard whooping and cheering from where Preston had been performing, and we looked over to see him standing up with the two girls. As the other guys cheered him on, he led them into the bedroom and shut the door. I sucked my front teeth in disgust and sighed. "Hard to believe Preston is getting married." Phillip chuckled. "I know what you mean." * * * One by one, the girls were taken off to the bedrooms. I was still trying to decide if I really wanted to do anything myself, battling my horniness at not having gotten laid in several months and my embarrassment at taking the last plunge into this debauch. Preston reappeared after about half an hour, wearing nothing but a bathrobe, and his girls were immediately claimed by other guests. He did a series of shots with some of his fraternity brothers and finally passed out on the couch around midnight. With the entire floor cleared of uninvited guests, the party was soon drifting from room to room, the girls still naked and many of the guest nearly so. I wandered around, either watching or trying not to. Though we had the girls until three, things seemed like they were going to wind down before then. The guests began passing out or disappearing into their rooms one by one, and the girls slowly returned to the big suite in the back. I was by the bar around one-thirty when the blonde girl who had danced for me earlier came up, looking a little worse for wear. "Hi. Make me a drink?" "What do you want?" "A rum and coke." I mixed her the drink and handed it to her. She took a long swig and then wiped her mouth. "Thanks." She looked me up and down, smiling at my still-neat appearance. "Are you staying out of this?" "I'm deciding." "Married?" "Nope. Not even steady." I felt a little weird having a conversation with a completely naked girl, so I tried to keep my eyes on her face. "Why, then?" "I don't know. Maybe because the bride is a good friend of mine, and I'm still dealing with watching her fiance' cheating on her." She smiled, nodding. "Ah. Got it." "What's your name?" I asked. "Tammi. You?" "Tom." "What do you do?" "I'm a lawyer in New York City." She looked around the room. "You guys must be doing pretty well. I've never been to something like this before, six girls at once. I thought only, like, the Arab oil guys did stuff like this." "Preston is pretty loaded. I think he paid for all of it." "What's he do?" "Sits on his butt spending his family's money from what I know. I don't really know him that well." She smiled, then took one of my fingers, stroking it lightly with her thumb. "So have you decided yet?" "About--oh. I don't know." "You're cute. I'd like to, if you want." "Have you already worked tonight?" "Yeah. But I cleaned up. Is that a problem?" "No. That's not it." "Could be me and somebody else if you want." She looked over at the sitting area, where several of the other girls were lounging around, talking with the few remaining guests. "See anything you like?" I almost turned her down, and had this encounter occurred earlier in the night, I probably would have. But I had been watching so much debauchery tonight, and had been walking around in various states of tumescence for so long, that I let myself consider it. And that led to the inevitable question, When am I going to get a chance like this again? "Uh . . . okay." "Who else?" I saw the redhead she had danced with, sitting across the room. "Her." She smiled. "Cool. She's my bud. We work together a lot." She took my hand and led me toward her. Her friend looked up as we approached, and Tammi bent down to whisper something to her. The redhead smiled and stood up, and the two guys she was talking to laughed and whooped at me, pumping their fists in the air. "This is Kelly." "Hi," I said. She shook my hand. "Hey." "Where's your room?" Tammi asked. "Back up the hall." They followed me there and shut the door behind us. Then they began undressing me. Tammi, as I said, was a little thing, about 5'2" and slim, with pointy little breasts and a smooth little butt. Kelly was a few inches taller but with the same athletic physique, except for her oversized and artificial tits. They had me naked in a few moments, and then dropped to their knees in front of me. In the back of my mind, I was rapidly growing disgusted with myself, no matter how much I tried to give in to my gonads and enjoy it. I kept thinking of Kate as the two girls alternately fellated me, wondering if she would be as upset at my participation in this as she might be about Preston's. And suspecting that she probably wouldn't much care, which made me feel even worse. I drew the girls up from the floor and got them to work on each other for a while. They were either good actresses or genuinely getting into it, and I didn't make myself think too hard about which it might be. I found a condom, rolled it on, and slipped into Tammi from behind as she continued eating her friend. Kelly thrashed around in front of us, putting on a good show, and Tammi worked her butt back at me as best she could. By this point, I simply wanted this over with, but I couldn't reach orgasm in this position. I pulled Tammi off her friend and rolled her on her back. She pulled me back into her, and I thrust into her rapidly for about a minute, thinking of Kate however much I tried to stop myself. I came, withdrew, and tried to catch my breath. The girls lay with me for a minute or two, pretending to be sated, then got up. "Thanks," Tammi said. "See ya." When they left, I took a long shower and tried to get to sleep. * * * *********************************************** The Teaser Copyright 2000 by MichaelD38@aol.com Free redistribution permitted; no commerical use without authorization. Archives at www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MichaelD/www ************************************************ Michael ~Story Archives~ www.asstr.orq/files/Authors/MichaelD/www/ www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Richard_Bissell/www ~Other Archives~ www.storiesonline.net www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/BitBard/www/forray/michaeld/ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+