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Stripper for the Bachelor Party

Lost in the night, my only hope back home are the guys celebrating on the beach. But if I want to get help, I must deserve it.

Loren Teese
7 min readFeb 19, 2024

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P-Pics

Crouching on the beach, I open my mouth, willingly accepting the cock pushing against my lips.

The scent of pre-cum and salty water doesn’t anticipate anything good, and yet as soon as my tongue touches the swollen tip, there’s nothing I want more than sucking this man dry.

I shiver. Not because it’s a chilly night; not because of the fear I felt until a couple of minutes ago, when I thought I was lost in the woods.

I shiver because while my tongue rolls around the stranger’s dick, someone is caressing my nipples, making me wish I had something deep between my legs.

The man using my throat to please his cock must be in his early thirties. As the one touching my breast, and the other three I can feel moving around me.

I don’t know who’s touching my butt, but as those naughty fingers slide under my skirt to caress my wet slit, I rock my hips to beg for more.

I need something inside.

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