25. BACHELOR PARTY

BIGFOOT

“The women took Sammy to an all-male review,” Dime told me as he slung another shot back.

“What’s that mean?” I asked as I pushed the dancer away from my lap for the third time. If she tried to sit on my dick again, she’d find herself laid out on the floor, maybe missing teeth. I wouldn’t hit her, but I would make certain that she hit the floor instead of my lap. It was bad enough glitter seemed to drip off of her and glue itself to me every time she got too close.

“It means that your woman is probably humping up on some young stud who won’t have a problem pulling his dick out of those tiny little banana hammocks they wear on stage.”

“No!” I yelled as I stood up and surprise, surprise the bitch who couldn’t take no for an answer tipped over and fell flat on her ass.

It didn’t take me long to find out where the girls took my woman for her hen party. It took even less time for me to show up there and find my woman parked on a chair, center stage, wearing a sash that declared her to be “The Bride”.

I was going to take her over my knee as soon as I got her somewhere private. The only reason I’d wait for that was because there was no fucking way any of the dancers or staff in the joint were going to watch as my woman took pleasure in her spanking. And she would. She absolutely would.

The man in front of her dropped his pants and waved his dick in her face. I charged the stage like a fucking bull who saw the red cape swing. “Hell to the fuck no!” I bellowed as I ran to free my woman who would never voluntarily allow herself to be tied to a chair in front of an audience. It didn’t matter that she was laughing hysterically. I imagined she was only laughing at the asshole’s tiny size compared to me. “Sammy!” I called and she finally tilted her head my way. Her eyes bulged at the sight of me. “You better get away from that fucker, right now!”

“I am,” She stopped to hiccup. “Tied to a chair, Bigfoot!”

“Why in the hell did you allow yourself to be tied to a chair?”

“Tradition!” she cried out to me as all the women around threw their heads back and howled to a moon that didn’t exist because it was two o’clock on a fucking Thursday. We just happened to be in Vegas where anything goes around the clock.

“Fuck that! Having a naked man dance on you is not a tradition we’re going to uphold.”

“So, you weren’t at a strip club with some bitch throwing her tits in your face as she rained glittered down all over you?” Sammy tried to eye me suspiciously, but the amount of liquor she consumed made her giggle for some reason. Then she started singing Umbrella by Rhianna at the top of her lungs. “When the sun shines, we shine together…” It was… not attractive… at all. My woman couldn’t sing to save her life or mine. It was a good thing she was a crack shot with a gun.

“Come on baby, that’s different, and besides I pushed that bitch off me like three times. You’re grinning up at this idiot like he has a bigger dick than me and we know that’s not true.”

Sammy threw her head back and laughed, then immediately sat forward again. “Whoa! Head rush!”

Finally, I reached the stage. Fucking crazy ass women kept getting in my way and feeling me up. “If you know what’s good for you, this is the part where you run away,” my fiancé warned the dancer. I climbed up onto the stage and picked my woman up, chair and all, as the dancer heeded her warning and launched himself as far from me as he could get. Unfortunately for the poor bastard, he flung himself into the crowd of horny women and I didn’t think he’d make it up for air before I walked my Sammy down the aisle to marry me. Wait… No, before she walked down the aisle to marry me next weekend. I was pretty sure her dad had to walk her down that aisle. None of that mattered. The dancer was a goner, and I didn’t help traitors.

I managed to get my woman back to the private rooms, slipped the bouncer a few hundred bucks and he let us in. “Thirty minutes,” he cautioned.

“Only need about three,” I stated confidently.

He laughed the whole way down the hall and Sammy giggled at me too. “Aren’t you going to untie me?”

“Not a fucking chance. You want to uphold tradition, baby. I’m the man who is gonna dance for you.” It was possible that I was a little drunk, too. Especially since it felt like I was already dancing, but I didn’t think the music had started yet.

I didn’t get to dance to for my woman because while I was trying to figure out if the music was on, my woman managed to get herself untied and then she let out a battle cry to end all battle cries as she tackled me to the sticky as fuck floor and slammed her mouth down on my mine. “Did I ever tell you that I love you?” she asked when she pulled back.

“Nope.”

“I do.”

“You’re supposed to save those words for our wedding.” She giggled again. “Sammy?”

“Yeah, big guy?”

“I love you, too.

We both woke up the next day with a killer as fuck hangover and loaded up on the plane back home with everyone else who was a little worse for the wear. “Baffle?” I called out when I noticed he was missing. After realizing no one had seen him that morning, I pulled my phone out and dialed his number.

“Baffle,” he groaned into the phone.

“Hey man, we all boarded our flight already. Where the fuck are you?”

“Uh, shit man. I have something I need to deal with. I’ll be back before the wedding, so don’t replace me as your best man.”

“What the fuck is so important?”

“I’ll fill you in when I get back.”

“You need backup?”

“Nah. At least, I don’t think so.” Baffle hung up just as the flight attendant came around and asked me to put my phone on airplane mode for takeoff.