I Was Only Going to Dance, and Ended Up in the Club Bathroom
It was one in the morning on Saturday at El Sótano, one of the dirtiest, hottest clubs in Barcelona. The place was packed: strobe lights slicing through the darkness like blades, heavy bass making the floor and the cans vibrate, dembow and reggaeton at a volume that made any conversation impossible. The main dance floor was a sea of sweaty bodies moving to the beat of the latest reggaeton hit on repeat.
Yuna, twenty-seven, Korean and living in the city for two summers now, was dancing alone in the middle of the crowd. Petite — barely five foot three — with straight black hair down to the middle of her back, swaying like a liquid curtain with every turn. Slanted, deep eyes, and pale skin that glowed under the violet and pink neons. A small, almost teenage body, but with soft curves: small, firm breasts outlined beneath the silver top with no bra, a very narrow waist, and a round, tight ass that swayed to the rhythm with almost insolent precision.
She wore a short black leather skirt that rode up dangerously with every hip movement and thin heels that made her feel taller and, above all, more confident. Under the skirt, a tiny black thong. She hadn’t gone out looking for anything in particular. Just to forget the week, to let herself be carried away by noise and alcohol.
Adrián, thirty-three, Catalan by birth and by pride, tall, dark, with a neatly trimmed three-day beard that gave him a roguish yet respectable air. Brown eyes, almost black, and an athletic build forged by daily gym sessions. Tight black T-shirt that highlighted his chest and arms, dark jeans, and spotless white sneakers. He saw her from the bar while ordering his third drink, and he could no longer look away.
He approached from behind. Without touching her yet. Just dancing very close, syncing his grind to hers, letting her decide. Yuna noticed him instantly: the heat of his body, the scent of fresh cologne mixed with clean sweat, the fabric of his T-shirt brushing her bare back. She turned her head slowly, looked at him over her shoulder, and smiled mischievously, biting her lower lip.
Adrián understood the permission. He moved closer. Big hands on her hips, guiding her to the slow, dirty rhythm of the dembow. She responded by arching her back, her ass brushing against the bulge that was already starting to harden against the denim. They danced like that for endless minutes: intense grinding, his hands sliding down her sides, up her waist, squeezing her breasts over the shiny top. When she turned inside his arms, chest to chest, she looked him straight in the eye without blinking.
—What’s your name? —she asked, her voice barely audible over the music.
—Adrián —he replied, mouth against her ear—. And you?
—Yuna.
They kissed with no further preamble. Tongues tangled, saliva mingling, his hands dropping to slip under her skirt and squeeze her bare ass. His erection pressed against her stomach, hard, obvious, impossible to hide. Yuna felt the heat rising up her neck to her cheeks, and a wet pulse between her legs that she could no longer ignore.
—You’re rock hard —she whispered in his ear, one hand dropping discreetly to rub him over his jeans.
—And you’re soaked, you can tell —he growled, fingers slipping under her skirt and brushing her already wet thong—. Fuck, Yuna… I’ve been watching you move like that for twenty minutes and I can’t take it anymore.
She smiled against his mouth.
—Then don’t take it.
***
Adrián took her by the hand and they made their way through the crowd to the upper floor. Up there, the bathrooms were larger and, above all, less watched than the ones in the basement. They went into one of the stalls at the back, and he slid the latch shut with a dry click that echoed among the tiles.
The space smelled of cheap perfume, bleach, and the night’s sweat. The music came in muffled, but the bass still thudded against the wall, setting a rhythm that was no longer for dancing.
Adrián turned her against the cold tiles. He yanked her skirt up to her waist in one impatient motion, pulled her black thong aside with two fingers. He spread her legs with his knee and shoved down his jeans and boxer briefs in a single movement. His cock was free, hard, thick, the tip glossy.
He brushed against Yuna’s soaked cunt, found the angle, and drove in with one firm thrust. She let out a muffled moan and braced both hands on the tiles to hold herself up.
—Fuck… you’re so tight —he growled against the nape of her neck, starting to fuck her with a strong, steady rhythm.
One hand on her hip, the other over her mouth to muffle her cries. The sound of skin hitting skin blended with the distant bass of the club. This is wrong and I don’t care at all, she thought. Her pussy clamped around him with each thrust, wet all the way to her thighs, and the swollen clit rubbed against his pubic bone in a growing, teasing tingle.
—Harder… —she whispered against his palm, eyes closed.
Adrián sped up. Deeper, dirtier thrusts. And then, in a slightly unsteady move, he slipped. The thick head of his cock, dripping wet, pressed a couple of inches higher than intended, right at her asshole.
—Adrián, not there… —she began, her voice breaking, trying to turn her head.
Too late. The thrust was already in motion. The tip drove in at once, tearing into her virgin ass in an instant. A sharp, burning pain ripped through her like an electric shock from her waist to the nape of her neck. Yuna screamed into his hand, tears instantly filling her eyes, her body tense as she tried to pull away forward.
—Shit… sorry, sorry —Adrián gasped, his voice rough with excitement and surprise—. I messed up, I didn’t mean to…
He froze for a second, throbbing inside her, realizing the mistake. Yuna’s asshole clamped down brutally on him, much hotter and tighter than any cunt he’d ever been in. A new sensation, almost addictive, ran down his spine. He felt his cock pounding hard inside that forbidden tunnel, not daring to move.
Yuna trembled against the tiles, tears rolling down her cheeks, one hand still pressed to the wall and the other clenched into a fist against her stomach.
—Take it out… it hurts… —she sobbed softly.
***
But Adrián didn’t move. Not entirely, at least. Instead of pulling out, he started rocking very slowly: short withdrawals that left her with a burning emptiness, gentle entries, almost asking permission, filling her again without aggression.
—If you want me to stop, I will, I swear —he murmured against her ear, one hand stroking her waist with a tenderness she hadn’t expected—. You tell me.
The pain began to change. Every centimeter that went in lit up something deep, strange, electric, something she had never felt before. Her pussy, left empty and open, throbbed for attention. Her clit pulsed all on its own from the internal pressure, as if it had a life of its own. What’s happening to me?, she thought, half scared, half aroused.
—No… don’t stop —she heard herself say, and was startled by her own words. Her voice came out broken, breathless, almost like someone else’s—. Slowly… but don’t stop.
Adrián let out an animal groan, almost one of relief.
—Are you sure? —he asked, visibly holding back, his knuckles white on her hips.
—Yes… keep going… slowly at first.
He took both her hips in his open hands and started fucking her ass for real. Deep but controlled thrusts at first. Every time he went all the way in, he felt his balls bump against her swollen pussy, still soaked and neglected. Yuna moaned uncontrollably, her nails digging into the grout between the tiles, her ass presented high, her back fully arched.
—Fuck, Yuna… you’re tighter than anything I’ve ever felt —he growled against her neck, his beard brushing her sweaty skin.
—More… deeper… —she begged, tears now mixed with a kind of pleasure she didn’t know.
***
The orgasm took her by surprise. It started deep in her belly, a brutal contraction that raced up her spine and squeezed his cock like a closed fist. She screamed into the palm still covering her mouth, her whole body convulsing, her legs trembling so badly she had to brace herself with both hands to keep from falling. Her pussy, untouched by anyone, gushed down her thighs in small, hot, uncontrollable spasms. Her asshole clenched violently around him, milking him in a rhythm he couldn’t stop.
It was long, intense, almost painful in how overwhelming it was.
Adrián held out as long as he could, but the tight grip drove him crazy.
—I can’t anymore… I’m gonna come —he growled, voice breaking.
Three more thrusts, deep and unrestrained, and he emptied himself inside her. Yuna felt the hot spurts flooding her, a thick pressure building inside and then beginning to overflow slowly as he, now still, withdrew centimeter by centimeter. A thick white thread slipped from her open asshole and ran down the inner side of her thigh to her knee.
She stayed leaning against the wall, panting, her skirt rumpled up at her waist, her thong twisted to one side, her ass still throbbing and dripping. Adrián hugged her from behind, still half-hard against her backside, kissing her sweaty neck with a delicacy that didn’t fit the scene.
—I’m sorry, really —he murmured against her skin—. I didn’t want it to start like that. I usually don’t… I mean, that wasn’t the plan.
Yuna turned her head slowly. Her eyes glassy, a loose, trembling smile barely holding her face together.
—Don’t apologize —she whispered, her voice still broken—. It was… the best mistake anyone’s ever made on me. I’ve never felt anything like it.
Adrián fell silent for a moment, still holding her around the waist. Then he smiled against her nape, and she felt the curve of his mouth on her skin.
—Then will you give me your number?
Yuna let out a small, exhausted, real laugh. And for the first time that night, she thought maybe she hadn’t gone out to forget anything. Maybe she had gone out, without knowing it, to find exactly this.