When I was nineteen, I was hired for a bachelor party. They were a little nervous about hiring me, so it was really left open-ended as to what they wanted from me. For sure, they wanted me to do a little strip and then a show on a Sybian.  

If the guys wanted some extras afterward, we could work out the details then. 

I got to the house a little early and rang the doorbell. One of the guys invited me in and the door closed behind me with a soft click. The sound cut through the room just enough to draw every bit of attention my way. Conversations tapered off mid-sentence. I heard someone say, "Holy fuck, she is hot!"  like they hadn’t been told what I looked like. I stood there, relaxed, shoulders back, letting them look.

“Evening,” I said, easy and warm. “Looks like a fun group.”

That was all it took. Smiles spread. A few cheers. I stepped forward, heels tapping lightly on the floor, moving from one cluster to the next. I shook hands, exchanged names, and made eye contact that lingered just long enough to feel intentional. I leaned in when I spoke, let my perfume do some of the work. The groom was all smiles, wide-eyed like he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

I circled the room once before turning toward the cleared space in the center. I could feel them settling in behind me—chairs shifting, bodies leaning forward, the collective focus narrowing until it felt like a spotlight on my body.

I started with my coat.

I slipped it off my shoulders slowly, letting it drag down my arms before I folded it neatly and set it aside. Beneath it, I wore a fitted top that clung just enough to hint at what was underneath. I turned slightly, letting them see my profile, the gentle rise of my chest, the way the fabric strained when I breathed.

Next came my shoes. One heel off, then the other. I straightened slowly, letting my calves flex, toes curling against the floor. I could feel the shift in the room—how closely they were watching even the smallest movements now.

My top followed. I lifted it over my head in one smooth motion and let it fall. The reaction was immediate. I didn’t need to look to know. I stood there for a moment, letting them take in the sight of me fully—my chest unapologetic, full and natural, moving subtly with every breath. I rolled my shoulders once, enjoying the awareness of being seen.

I turned, giving them my back as I reached for the clasp behind me. When my bra came off, I didn’t rush to turn back around. I let the pause speak for itself before facing them again, bare and unhidden. The curve of my boobs was on full display now, nipples erect, my waist dipping in, my hips rounding out. I shifted my weight from one leg to the other, letting the motion accentuate the line of my hips, the fullness of my ass as I bent just slightly to slide my skirt down.

Piece by piece, I stripped away the last barriers, each movement unhurried, confident. When there was nothing left between me and their eyes, I didn’t cover myself. I didn’t pose dramatically either. I simply stood there, comfortable, exposed, letting them take in every detail—the smoothness of my bare pussy, the natural curve or my ass, the confidence that came from knowing I was exactly where I wanted to be.

Then, I turned toward the machine.

It sat waiting in the center of the room, solid and unapologetic. I approached it slowly, trailing my fingers along its surface as if greeting a new friend. I squatted down with care, adjusting myself until I was seated just right. The attachment split down the length of my pussy, my lips draped over each side. 

"Are you ready?" I asked the guys. My question was met with a resounding, "YES."

When I turned it on, I started low.

The hum was soft at first, more vibration than sound. It traveled through me in a way that made my breathing fluctuate. I shifted my hips, testing, finding the angle that made sensation bloom outward instead of concentrating in one place. My lips parted on a quiet sound I didn’t bother to hold back.

I rocked slowly at first, letting my body respond naturally. My hands rested on my thighs, then slid to the edge as I leaned forward slightly. I could their eyes glued to every move I made, the way every small adjustment mattered.

I nudged the speed up.

The change rippled through me instantly. My shoulders tensed, then softened. My breathing deepened, uneven now, audible in the quiet room. I rolled my hips in a wider motion, instinct taking over as sensation built and spread.

The first orgasm caught me by surprise. My whole body tightened, then released in a wave that left me momentarily still, eyes closed, chest rising sharply as I moaned through it. The machine and my thighs were wet from my juices. I didn’t stop. I let the rhythm carry me forward, hips still moving, still engaged.

I slowed it slightly, just enough to recover, then brought it back up again. Each change felt different—new angles, new reactions. My head tipped back this time, throat exposed, a low moan slipping free as another orgasm passed through me. The vibration of the machine, splashing my juices on the machine, and the front of my legs. This caused an audible reaction from the guys as well. 

I was acutely aware of how open I looked now. How clearly my reactions showed. The tremor in my thighs. The way my grip tightened, then loosened. I reached back and increased the speed again, higher this time, and the effect was immediate and undeniable.

My movements grew more urgent. Less polished. I rocked harder, chasing the orgasms as they built again and again. Each crest blurred into the next, leaving me flushed, breathless, visibly undone. I paused only long enough between them to catch a breath, then leaned back into it, letting the intensity climb.

There was only motion and sound and the steady hum beneath me. My body was going crazy as wave after wave rolled through until I was trembling. The machine beneath me bore clear evidence of how thoroughly I’d given myself over—wet, glistening, unmistakably marked by my juices flowing down it.

When I finally eased the speed down, it was with effort. I stayed seated, breathing hard, letting the aftershocks ripple throughout my body. The room felt charged in a very different way now. I could see the lust in their eyes, smell their want, see them wanting more of me. 

I dismounted carefully, legs unsteady but sure. I invited the groom to come to me. I reached down and slid two fingers through my juices covering the machine, then held them up to his mouth. Without hesitation, his mouth opened, and he licked my fingers clean. I followed that up with a little peck on his lips.

I asked the boys if anyone wanted something extra. Everyone's hand came up, including the groom's. 

The groom was first. He and I went to a bedroom down the hall. He wanted just a blowjob since he didn't really consider that cheating. But, halfway through the blowjob, he changed his mind, and he fucked me, shooting his load inside without any hesitation at all. 

From then on, it was a mix of one on one's with some threesums thrown in for good measure. It turned out that two of the guys were bi, so that added some fun visuals for me! 

After I had taken care of everyone's needs, the guys thanked me for an amazing show and for being so cool about the extras after the show. They tipped me on top of the show and the after-show extras, which was super nice of them. I let them know if they ever wanted to see me again for the same thing or maybe a full-on gangbang, to let me know and I would be more than happy to see them all again!

Dressing again felt surreal. I took my time with it, reversing the process piece by piece, the energy in the room looser now, quieter. I smiled as I slipped my shoes back on, as I shrugged into my coat.

When I finally turned toward the door, I paused, meeting their eyes one last time.

“Have a great night,” I said softly.

I didn’t need to look back as I left. I knew exactly what image I was leaving behind—and exactly how long it would stay with them.