To Being a Bachelorette


Many thanks to AsylumSeeker for editing. I would also like to thank drksideofthemoon for his kind encouragement and good advice.


The day my divorce was final, my long-time friend and hairdresser, Stacy, and I decided to celebrate. Stacy had been through it all with me, from the planning of my wedding, through two years or so of wedded bliss, the loss of a job, the birth of my child, the slow death of my marriage during the six years that followed, and finally, the divorce. I only saw her every six weeks for my appointments, and it always amazed me how we could continue right where we left off with our friendship. We hadn’t met until I was around thirty-five, but I felt like I’d known her all my life and could tell her anything.

I had an appointment the week before the big day. Upon hearing the news, Stacy exclaimed, “Girl, we should go out that night!”

As luck would have it, it was a Friday. My daughter would be spending the weekend with her grandparents, and I was free as a bird. Me. Free. I agreed that a celebration was definitely in order.

After some discussion, we settled on the Cleveland Flats as our destination. I hadn’t been to the Flats, the Cleveland warehouse district and a Mecca of bars and restaurants, since my college days nearly 20 years before. With some trepidation I said, “We need to find a place that has an older crowd though, okay?”

“Oh my God. Stop it,” muttered Stacy. “You know guys love older women. Besides, I’m going to do your hair and makeup. You’ll look hot.”

I love this woman. She makes me look good and feel good. As I was leaving, we hugged, and I thanked her and asked, “We’re going for sure, right?”

“Fuck, yeah! And I’m driving,” she replied. “Shit. Too bad we couldn’t get a limo.”

I thought about this for a moment. “Well, it’s not a bachelorette party or anything.”

Stacy thought about it too and giggled, “It is. You’re becoming a bachelorette again.”


Friday night Stacy arrived at my house late, of course. I was already dressed and ready to go.

“What the hell did you do to your hair?” she cried out as she came through the door.

I had teased and sprayed and teased and sprayed some more until my hair resembled a lacquered brown and gold helmet. This was unintentional, of course. In my nervousness, I had messed with it way too much. Stacy threw a towel over my shoulders, pushed me into a kitchen chair, and set to work with my flat iron. In less than ten minutes she had rearranged my helmet into a young, sexy, fashionably messy work of art. I stared at myself in the mirror. She had actually curled my hair with a flat iron; amazing.

She held my chin in her hand and examined my face. “You need more makeup,” she asserted.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do,” laughed Stacy. She rarely ever listens to me. Thank God.

I retrieved my makeup bag, and Stacy darkened my eye shadow, applied eyeliner, and darkened my blush. She took out her own lipstick and reddened my lips. I had to admit, I looked better; sexier, confident. Shit.

I mixed us both a drink, and we sat at my kitchen table discussing our plans. No longer familiar with the Flats, I deferred to Stacy’s expertise. She mentioned several bars, none of which sounded that appealing to me. I was uneasy but determined to have a good time.

Truthfully, I was hoping that tonight would turn out to be much more than an evening out with a girlfriend. I had been celibate for almost two years, and it was making me crazy. My body was craving the touch of a man. I had become much more sexual in the past few years as my husband’s interest in me was fading away. Although I hadn’t physically cheated, there had been a few Internet romances. I had even started shaving my pussy and bought a couple sex toys and books—things I wouldn’t have done before. What I had heard about women peaking in their 40s was obviously true, at least in my case. I was tired of feeling so buttoned up, tense, and sexless. I was tired of masturbating. I wanted to fuck. I wanted to be normal again, whatever that meant.

During the drive to Cleveland we talked and laughed and speculated about how our evening would go. The warm evening air was full of promise, and the setting sun cast a rosy glow. After about an hour, we exited the freeway and pulled into the parking lot of a nightclub that looked trendy and hip. The thumping bass of the music drifted outside. My confidence was shaken now, as I began thinking I probably wouldn’t fit in. I tried to hide this. It was a familiar feeling that seemed to annoy everyone else. Stacy, sensing my apprehension, pulled a joint out of her purse and looked at me questioningly. I laughed, and she lit it.

We each took several long drags, and then she extinguished the joint. “We’ll save the rest for later,” she winked.

I hadn’t been high in several years. It was fully dark then, and we sat in the car watching people go into the bar while Stacy smoked a cigarette. It all seemed a little unreal. I remember wondering how I ankara yabancı escort had ended up in that particular place at that particular time.

Stacy finally flicked her cigarette butt out the window. “Let’s go.”

Grabbing my purse, I got out of the car and followed Stacy inside on rather unsteady legs. The club was one large space with a big square bar at one end, lots of tables in the middle, and a dance floor and another bar at the opposite end. Off to one side was an alcove with several pool tables and tiffany-style lights hanging over them that bathed the players in cozy warmth. We looked around for a minute and then made our way to the bar, where we found two seats.

The bartender at our end, a handsome young guy, brought our drinks, and I paid for the first round. Stacy held her glass up for a toast.

“To being a bachelorette…again,” she laughed.

I laughed too, and clinked my glass against hers. Looking around the bar, I noticed a few older men in the crowd. Mostly, they seemed to be ogling the younger girls. This was fine with me. I really wasn’t interested in hooking up with an old fart. However, being with a younger man worried me. I decided to relax and open myself up to whatever happened.

Stacy struck up a conversation with the man sitting on her other side, giving me the opportunity to look around more. The buzz from the pot was starting to mellow, and the more familiar effects of alcohol were taking over. The woman sitting to my left melted away, and suddenly a man slid into her seat.

“Hello,” he said as I turned to look at him. He offered his hand. “I’m Keith.”

“Robin,” I replied, shaking his hand. He actually gripped my hand and shook it. No limp-wristed grasping of fingers here. I was impressed.

He looked into my eyes and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Robin. Can I buy you a drink?”

I couldn’t help smiling back. “Sure. Thank you.”

Keith signaled the bartender and ordered our drinks. As he raised his arm, I noticed his bicep bulging out of the sleeve of his black polo. The man was very well built. He had close-cropped brown hair and a sweet but mischievous smile. Although not really handsome, he was still very nice looking and well put together. He smelled great. I wondered if he was married.

When I felt, rather than saw, Stacy’s attention shift back to me, I introduced her to Keith. As the bartender returned with our drinks, she smirked at me and pinched my arm.

Keith held up his drink for a toast. “To…?”

“Being a bachelorette…again,” I giggled, as we clinked our glasses together.

I explained. Keith laughed and congratulated me. We talked for a long while about all the things people talk about while becoming acquainted. He was from the Midwest and was in Cleveland for his job. He was divorced, traveled extensively, and didn’t date much. I asked him what he did for work.

“I’m a comic,” he replied.

I was delighted. “You mean like a standup comedian?” Duh. Brilliant.

“Yes,” he laughed. His eyes darted down to my cleavage and back up to my face.

I liked that he was looking and felt my cheeks grow warm. “I’ve never met a comic before,” I admitted. “Are people always asking you to say something funny?”

He grinned, “Yes.”

“I won’t do that then.”

“Whew,” he pantomimed wiping his brow, “Thanks.” He brought his hand down and laid it just above my knee.

I was somewhat startled and made the slightest move to pull away, but Keith held his ground. He was gazing at me with an amused smile. He turned toward me in his seat and slid his eyes very slowly down my face, my neck, and then my chest, pausing at my cleavage again. I was wearing a few chains around my neck, one of which held a pendant that was resting just at the top of the cleft between my full breasts. It twinkled and danced whenever I moved, and Keith’s gaze was fixed on it. I imagined his warm, wet mouth pressed to my skin right at that spot and felt a curl of desire in my belly.

I watched his face as his eyes continued their lazy caress, journeying slowly down over my breasts, my belly, and my hips. He was taking it all in—the plunging neckline of my wrap dress, the tie at my waist, the way the silky fabric clung to my voluptuous curves and ended at my knee, the smoothness of my bare legs, all the way down to my French-pedicured toes peeking out of high-heeled sandals. His reverie was broken as the bartender brought more drinks.

After paying, Keith turned his face toward me again and, blowing out a deep breath between pursed lips, he chuckled and returned his hand to my thigh but further up this time. I was still somewhat alarmed but felt an electric thrill at the same time. He looked down at my chest again and leaned forward, sliding his hand further up my leg while he murmured into my ear, “Your tits look amazing.”

His warm breath bathed me in goose bumps, and I closed my eyes for just a moment as a soft, breathy moan escaped my lips. bahçelievler escort I placed my hand over his on my thigh, wrapping my fingers around his wrist, ostensibly to stop further upward movement. Truthfully, I just wanted to touch him. I really had the urge to swivel toward him, open my legs, and pull him toward me.

When I opened my eyes, Keith was still there, leaning close, his mouth next to my ear. I turned my head, first looking into his eyes and then down at his lips, and with the slightest tilt of my chin we kissed. It was an incredible first kiss. Perfect. Just the right amount of wetness, suction, and pressure—lips open slightly, just the slightest grazing of tongues. He was delicious. He kissed me again, this time coming off his barstool and running his hand down my back. Pulling me closer, he parted his lips, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth and letting it go with a pop.

“Mmmm. Wow,” I breathed. I wanted more.

“Mm-hmm.” Keith’s mouth was close to my ear again. “You smell really good,” he said softly, kissing the side of my neck.

“I was just thinking the same about you,” I murmured, closing my eyes and letting my head fall to the side, baring my neck to him.

I love having my neck kissed. Sometimes I think I could cum just from that. I leaned into Keith, wanting it to go on forever. His soft lips nuzzled my neck then parted, and he licked my skin, tasting me.

I was becoming very aroused, which was starting to worry me because I wasn’t wearing any panties. The last thing I needed was a big wet spot on the back of my dress, and I also had to pee. I pulled away from him and took a sip of my drink. Grabbing my little purse, I slid off the stool, my body sliding along Keith’s as my feet touched the floor.

Keith looked at me expectantly. “Are you leaving me?”

“Restroom,” I said pointing in the general direction.

He scooted back on his seat and let me pass. As I was walking away, I let my hips sway a little more than was necessary, and looked back over my shoulder. Keith was watching me. I winked and kept walking. Was this me?

The restrooms were in a short corridor past the alcove with the pool tables. Just as I reached the ladies’ room, a hand grabbed my arm and pushed me roughly against the opposite wall. Keith pushed his body against mine, cupped his hands around my neck, and kissed me deeply, plunging his tongue into my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his waist, my fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. His hard cock was pushing into my lower abdomen. His hands slid down to squeeze my breasts, his thumbs finding my hard nipples and raking across them. Then he was kissing my neck again, licking and sucking. I gasped as he nipped the soft skin with his teeth. As his arms wrapped around me, he slid his palms down, cupping my ass. Lifting his head, he again found my mouth with his. He groaned as I sucked his tongue and rubbed it with my own. His hands had sneaked beneath my skirt and were squeezing my bare ass.

Keith’s fingers explored along my ass crack, and I saw the realization that I wasn’t wearing panties flit across his face. We gazed into each other’s eyes, our breathing ragged and shallow. Then we were kissing once again. Keith grasped my buttocks, pulling me tightly against the hard bulge in his pants. His fingers slid along my crevice and glided between my wet pussy lips.

“Keith. Not here,” I whimpered. “I really have to pee. Please.”

He leaned his forehead against mine and slowly released me, and I edged past him and walked into the restroom. Once inside, I leaned against the sink under the fluorescent light and looked at myself in the mirror. I was still breathing hard, and my cheeks were a hectic pink. My lips were red and puffy, and my eyes looked slightly glassy. Taking a couple of deep breaths, I steadied myself. After waiting for an empty stall, I went in. I felt gloriously alive and laughed. Wow. This was way better than I expected. I was so turned on, my pussy was drenched all the way down the insides of my thighs. I wiped away the excess moisture and then washed my hands. Smiling at myself in the mirror, I applied more lip-gloss.

When I returned to the bar, Keith was sitting there alone nursing his drink. Stacy and her friend were nowhere in sight. As I walked by, my fingertips lightly ran along Keith’s back. He reached behind and caught my hand, pulling me to him. I leaned in and kissed him, my arms around his neck, my fingers in his hair. His hands slid down to my ass again, squeezing it.

“We need to get out of here, baby,” he said softly.

“I don’t know if I can. I came here with Stacy. She drove.”

“I want you,” he stated simply.

Moment of truth. Did I really want to do this? I looked at Keith. That naughty little-boy grin split his face. I did want to—more than anything.

“I need to find Stacy and tell her.”

He pointed his thumb toward the door. “She left a few minutes ago with that guy. Said to tell you balgat escort she’d be back.”

Keith stood and swallowed the rest of his drink in one gulp. Then, taking my hand, he headed for the door. When we got outside I found Stacy’s car. She was sitting inside with the guy from the bar, and they were smoking the joint we had started earlier. I knocked on the window. As it rolled down, sweet marijuana smoke billowed out.

Stacy saw Keith behind me and said with a smile, “Oh, are you leaving?”

“Um, yeah,” I replied. “Are you okay with that?”

She smiled and wrinkled her nose. “You two have fun. I’ll call you in the morning.”

I leaned closer and whispered, “How the hell am I going to get home?”

Stacy whispered back, “Don’t worry about it,” and raised her eyebrows. She said again, more loudly, “I’ll call you in the morning, or you call me, okay?” Then to Keith, “You better take good care of her.”

“Absolutely,” he replied.

I reached inside the car and squeezed Stacy’s shoulder. “Thanks,” I said with a smile. “You two have fun too.”

Keith walked me to a black four-door rental car and opened the passenger door for me. I got in, and he closed the door before going around and sliding into the driver’s side.

He said, “So, you want to go to my hotel?”

I smiled and nodded. He leaned over and kissed me.

“I can’t wait to see those tits.”

I laughed and replied “Well, let’s get going then.”

Before I knew it, we were driving through downtown Cleveland. Every time we stopped at a light, we kissed and groped each other. Wild, sloppy kisses—our tongues entwining, exploring each other’s mouths, our hands touching everywhere we could reach. At one point, I held on to Keith’s hand, and as he was driving I raised it to my lips and kissed the pad of his thumb. The tip of my tongue ran over it, and then I sucked it into my mouth. He gasped as I moved on to his index finger and did the same thing. Moving on to his middle finger, I sucked this one in further, sliding its entire length into my mouth and rubbing it up and down with my tongue.

“Oooh, I love that shit,” he groaned.

He was breathing heavily as I took his ring finger into my mouth and lightly bit it, my tongue playing across the tip. Then I moved on to his pinky. I sucked it hard and pulled it slowly out of my mouth at the same time. Keith moaned softly, and at the next light, he grabbed me and pulled me hard against him, ravaging my mouth, driving his tongue inside. We were kissing wildly as he thrust his hand into my dress, squeezing my breast and sliding his fingers inside my bra.

Just then, the light must have changed, because cars behind us started honking their horns. We broke apart and laughed, and Keith drove on. He left his hand on my thigh and made small circles with the tips of his fingers as he slid it slowly up toward my crotch. I arched back in the seat, spreading my legs slightly. His fingers found my sodden pussy and traced along the velvety outer lips. I moaned and lay my hand on top of his as his fingers sunk into my creamy wetness. I could barely breathe. I gasped as two of his fingers slid into me and then pulled back out. He found my clit and rubbed it with his middle finger. I spread my legs further and leaned back more, giving him easier access. My juices coated both of our fingers. I could smell the musky scent of my pussy in the close air of the car. My body was quivering as we pulled up to another light. Still stroking my clit, Keith leaned over and licked my neck.

“Cum for me, baby,” he said softly, driving me over the edge.

I leaned back in the seat moaning, my dress bunched up around my hips as I came. Spasms wracked my body as I arched my back and pushed my cunt up against his hand.

Keith drove a short distance and then pulled into the well-lit parking lot of a hotel and parked. He pulled his fingers out of my pussy and thrust them into his mouth, licking my juices off of them.

“Mmmm,” he said. “You taste so good.”

He leaned over and kissed me again, and I could taste my pussy on his tongue.

I pulled down my skirt and adjusted my dress. We got out of the car and strode quickly toward the hotel hand in hand. Inside the elevator, Keith pressed the button for the fourth floor, and we were kissing again as it started to move. My hands skimmed down his body to his crotch. His cock felt rock hard under my fingers, and he gulped as they snuck underneath and gently squeezed his balls.

As the elevator doors opened, we stepped apart and made our way to his room. Keith slid a card into the reader and unlocked the door. As it clicked open, he pushed me inside. Before I could speak or check out our surroundings, he closed the door and pushed me against it with his body.

His hands were on my breasts, and we were kissing savagely. Suddenly, he tore my dress open and slid his hands around my sides and down to my ass cheeks. I was trying to unbutton his shirt, but he had ideas of his own. His mouth was on my neck, licking and sucking. I held his head in my hands, pushing his mouth harder against me. His lips slid down my chest and latched onto a breast, biting my nipple through the lace of my bra. I cried out as he rolled my nipple between his teeth and his tongue wet the fabric. He kept moving down, licking my belly; his hands gliding down my thighs, and then up to spread my pussy lips.

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