Your wife is the only woman on her best friend's stag do. He passes out at midnight. She packed a sheer dress for exactly that. Would you let her have the other six?

She's naked on a sofa in a rented house, one man's cock still inside her, five more waiting, and her best friend asleep directly above her head.

That's where this ends up. Here's how she gets there.

 

She planned it that morning.

Her oldest friend's stag. They've known each other since they were eleven. She's the honorary lad. Curry, a bar, then a rented house for the night. Six of his mates and her.

She packs the bag while you're making coffee. Jeans and a hoodie for the day.

And underneath, rolled up small: a black dress. Short, sheer, see-through mesh from the straps to the hem. No bra. No knickers.

She kisses you at the door and says "he'll be asleep by midnight, he always is."

You don't ask what that means. You know.

 

The day.

Curry. She sits between the groom's brother and the quiet one from his work. Her hand lands on a thigh under the table when she laughs. Slides up. Finds him half hard through his jeans. Not the groom's.

The bar. Shots. The loud one dares her to do a body shot off him. She licks the salt off his stomach. Then lets him do one off her, vest yanked down, salt on her bare tit, his tongue on her nipple, six men watching and one of them her best friend.

He laughs and says "that's my girl." He means it like a brother.

He's swaying by eleven.

 

The house.

Midnight. The groom is face down on the bed upstairs, still in his shoes. The best man takes a photo for the wedding. She pulls his door shut. It doesn't latch. She leaves it.

She goes into the bathroom with her bag.

Six men on two sofas downstairs. The best man. The brother. The quiet one. The loud one. Two from his football team. Whisky on the table, football on mute.

Bare feet on the stairs. The room looks up.

Sheer black mesh from the straps to the hem, and nothing under it. Pink nipples through the holes. The shape of her pussy through the holes. She stops on the bottom step so they can all get a proper look.

She says "I had a present for the stag. But he's out. So you lot will have to unwrap it."

Nobody laughs. Upstairs, a bed creaks. Everyone looks at the ceiling. Nothing.

 

She goes round the room.

She takes the whisky off the table and drinks from the bottle.

She sits on the brother's lap first. Sideways. His hand lands on her thigh and she moves it higher, under the hem, and holds it against her bare pussy while she drinks. Two fingers go in. She lets them. Then she gets up and leaves him with wet fingers and moves on.

She stands in front of the loud one, hooks the straps off her shoulders, and lets the top of the dress drop to her waist. Bare tits in his face. "You did a body shot off these earlier. Do it properly." He does. Salt, tongue, nipple, sucked hard. She holds his head there and looks at the other five.

She straddles the quiet one, the one who asked her at the curry if her husband knows. Dress round her waist, her bare pussy grinding on the bulge in his jeans. She says "he packed the bag." He goes white, then red, then his hands are on her arse and she comes like that, on his lap, biting his shoulder so she doesn't make a sound.

She stands between the two footballers. Turns her back. Bends over with her hands on the sofa between them. Open and wet and inches from both their faces. "Have a look. You've been trying all day." One of them doesn't just look. His tongue's in her before she's finished the sentence.

Every man in the room has his cock out.

Floorboards upstairs. A door. Everyone freezes, her bent over with a tongue in her pussy. The bathroom flush. Footsteps back. The bed creaks. Silence.

She doesn't move. She says "keep going."

 

The best man.

He's the only one she hasn't touched. He's been sitting at the end of the sofa watching her work through his mates with his cock in his hand and a face like he's at a funeral.

She pulls the dress over her head and drops it on the floor.

Naked. Flushed to her chest. Hands at her sides.

She walks over, straddles him, takes his cock and puts it inside her in one movement. All the way. He makes a noise. She puts her hand over his mouth and rides him slowly, looking at the ceiling, at the room above where her best friend is sleeping.

The other five stand up and close in around the sofa. Nobody says anything. Six inches of cock in her and five more within reach.

She stops with him buried in her, picks her phone up off the floor, and sends you one message.

"He's asleep upstairs. I'm downstairs with the best man inside me and five more waiting. I've come twice. I want all six. All night. His bed's the only one free and I'm not using it. Say yes or I stop right now and sleep on the floor."

 

Would you tell her to stop, or would you tell her to let all six of his mates fuck her while he sleeps through it?