My Confession About That New Year’s Eve at the Hotel

For Elena, that New Year’s Eve had begun long before December 31. It began in the early hours of the morning when Adrián wrote to her for the first time, seven months earlier, and neither of them could stop. Endless messages, three-hour phone calls, voice notes she listened to with her eyes closed while showering, one hand between her thighs and hot water running down her back. They had never said out loud what was going to happen that night, but they both knew it. She was going to fuck him. She was going to spread her legs for the first time for that voice that had been getting inside her head for seven months.

They chose a hotel halfway between the two cities. An old building, with a marble staircase and a restaurant that hosted a gala dinner for New Year’s Eve. They booked two rooms. Both of them. Just in case.

When Elena saw him in the lobby, she knew the second room was a useless formality.

—I thought you’d be later —said Adrián, and hugged her. A second longer than necessary.

—I took the earlier train —she replied, not quite pulling away.

She went upstairs to get dressed alone. In front of the mirror, she looked at herself in the red lace set she had bought three weeks earlier. She had imagined it on herself so many times, looked at herself like this so often, that when she finally did it her hand trembled as she closed the bra. Over it, a short black dress, simple, nothing that gave away what she was wearing underneath. She touched herself over the panties and found that she was already wet. She brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked them, watching herself in the mirror.

If nothing happens, nobody has to know.

She went down to the restaurant at nine-thirty.

***

Dinner was long, deliberately long. Adrián poured the wine with almost excessive care. Elena brushed the table with the tips of her fingers, letting him decide when to cover her hand with his. He did it between the second and third course, without warning, and never took it away again.

They talked about the months that had passed. About that time he had written to her at four in the morning because he couldn’t sleep. About the call that lasted until dawn, in which she ended up moaning softly with her hand inside her panties while he described everything he would do to her when they finally saw each other. About the song that reminded them of the other. Small things that between two strangers were nothing, and between them weighed tons.

There were ten minutes left until midnight.

The maître d’ handed out glasses with grapes. The room filled with that nervous murmur of people waiting for the turn of the year as if it were going to clear up their lives. Elena looked at Adrián. Adrián was already looking at her.

The bells rang through the speakers. People started counting. Twelve, eleven, ten. Elena forgot to swallow half the grapes. Five, four, three. Adrián’s hand found hers under the tablecloth, and she guided it to her thigh, sliding it up under the dress until his fingers brushed the wet edge of her panties. Two, one.

Happy New Year.

The first kiss was what tradition allows: a polite brush, almost on the cheek, a greeting. The second was not. Adrián held her face with both hands and kissed her the way he had wanted to kiss her for seven months, his tongue going all the way into her mouth, searching for hers without asking permission. She answered him the same way, biting his lower lip. The room disappeared. The glasses, the confetti, the background music. All that remained was that mouth she knew without ever having touched it, and his hand still on her thigh, two centimeters from the wet silk.

***

They danced after that, because sitting down was impossible. Adrián led her to the center of the floor with one hand at her waist and the other at the nape of her neck. They danced closer than anyone dances with a friend. His hand slid a little lower, right to the base of her back, and stayed there. Then it went lower still, cupped her ass with his open palm, and pressed her against him. Elena felt the hard bulge against her stomach and closed her eyes.

—Shall we go up? —he said into her ear.

—Take me upstairs now —she answered, almost out of breath.

They went up the marble staircase slowly, with their fingers intertwined. Every step seemed like a decision that had already been made. Adrián opened the door to his room. Elena’s, two doors down, stayed closed forever.

Inside, the light was warm, amber, as if designed for that scene. Elena put her bag on the desk, took off her earrings, took off her shoes. Adrián watched her without coming closer, giving her space to undo the ritual at her own pace.

When she reached for the zipper of the dress, she did it slowly, looking him in the eyes. The fabric fell to the floor in one movement.

Adrián was speechless.

She had imagined that moment a thousand times, but she had not anticipated the silence. The absolute silence from Adrián, who looked at her as someone looks at something they didn’t believe existed. The red lace set hugged her chest with two thin straps that crossed at the center, forming an X that drew the eye downward. The panties were made of the same silk, high on the hips, with embroidery that descended to the mons Venus. The fabric had a dark wet patch right in the center, and Adrián couldn’t stop looking at it.

—You’re soaked —he murmured.

—I’ve been like this all through dinner —she replied.

Adrián came closer. His hands rested first on her waist, then rose very slowly along her ribs, almost without touching. When he brushed the curve of her breast, she let out a deep sigh. Just above the edge of the lace, Elena had a tiny, dark mole that he had discovered once in a photo and had never forgotten. He leaned down and kissed it. Just that. One long, exact kiss on that spot.

Elena slid her hands around the back of his neck and held him there. With her other hand she found his fly, squeezed his dick through his trousers, and felt its full size, hard, straining the fabric.

—Fuck… —he breathed through clenched teeth.

—That’s what I want —she whispered—. I want you to fuck me.

***

The bed waited a meter away. Adrián led her there without hurrying, his fingers laced with hers, as if they were still dancing. When he laid her on the mattress, he did it carefully, almost ceremoniously. He positioned himself over her, but not to take her. To look at her.

He started with her neck, below the jaw, where her pulse beat visibly. His lips lingered on her collarbone, in the hollow of her throat, on her right shoulder. He moved down to her chest and stopped there. He unclasped her bra with one hand, without urgency, and pulled it away. Elena’s breasts fell free, heavy, with her nipples already erect and pink. He went back to the mole. Kissed it again, slower. Then he circled the areola with his tongue, without touching the center, until she dug her nails into his back.

—Please —Elena murmured—. Suck them.

Adrián gave in then. He closed his lips around the nipple and sucked it with a slow, almost sung rhythm. With his other hand he kneaded her other breast, squeezing hard, pinching her nipple between thumb and forefinger until he pulled a sharper moan from her. He switched sides. Sucked, bit, tugged with his teeth. She threw her head back against the pillow and let out a sound halfway between a sigh and a plea.

Then he moved down her sternum, kiss by kiss. Down her ribs. Down her navel. When he reached the edge of the red panties, he did not take them off. He pulled them aside only a few centimeters with his thumbs, just enough to reveal the beginning of her pubic hair, and kissed that area with his whole face pressed against her. Elena felt his warm breath against skin that was already wet, and a shiver ran up her spine from bottom to top.

Adrián hooked his teeth into her panties and dragged them down. Elena lifted her hips to help him, and the garment stayed caught around her ankles until he pulled it off completely and threw it to the floor. Then he opened her thighs with both hands, settled himself between them, and stared at her cunt up close, bright, swollen, lips parted by arousal.

—I’ve wanted to eat you for seven months —he said.

—Then eat me already, fuck.

Adrián lowered his mouth and ran his whole tongue from bottom to top, very slowly, from the entrance of her cunt to her clit. Elena arched her back sharply. He did it again. And again. He lingered on her clit, drawing circles, alternating with long, flat licks. He slid in one finger, then two, curling them upward, searching for the exact spot that made her twist. Elena began to move her hips against his mouth, shamelessly, riding his tongue.

—Like that, like that, don’t stop…

He sucked her clit between his lips and drove his fingers harder, faster. She closed her thighs around his head, grabbed his hair with both hands, and came. She came with a long moan, her whole body trembling, pushing his face against her pussy until the final spasm. Adrián did not let her go. He kept licking her slowly, drinking everything she gave off, until Elena had to pull him away because she couldn’t take any more.

Adrián lifted his face, his mouth and chin shining, and smiled.

And he climbed up. But Elena already had other plans.

***

When Adrián reached her level again, she put a firm hand on his chest and gently pushed him back. She sat up. She ended up kneeling in front of him, just as naked, just as exposed, with no more advantage and no more fear.

—Now it’s my turn —she said against his mouth. She licked her lips, tasting herself in his mouth.

She kissed him differently. Not with hunger, but with a calm that was dizzying. She unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time, never separating her lips from his. When the garment fell away, she slid her palms over his chest, over his shoulders, over his arms. Adrián closed his eyes. His breathing was shaking.

—You make me lose control —he murmured.

—Then lose it.

She took off his belt with the same slowness. Then the trousers. The boxer shorts came off with them, and Adrián’s cock sprang free, hard, thick, the tip already glistening. Elena looked at it for a second. Then she took it in her hand, weighed it, licked her lips, and bent down to suck it.

First she ran her tongue along the whole length, from base to tip, the way he had done to her. She licked his balls, took them one by one into her mouth, tugging them gently with her lips. Adrián let out a long gasp. Elena came back up, closed her mouth around the glans, and sucked it, drawing out drops of pre-cum that she swallowed without blinking. Then she started to take him down, all of him, until the tip reached the back of her throat.

—Jesus, Elena…

She looked up at him from below, eyes glazed, mouth full of him, and sped up. She sucked with rhythm, her hand accompanying her mouth, hollowing her cheeks to tighten him. Adrián put a hand on her nape, not forcing, only guiding. She let herself be led. When she felt he was close, when she sensed him hardening even more between her lips, she slowed and let him breathe.

—I don’t want to come like this —he said, his voice rough.

—I know.

When they were finally both naked, Elena looked at him for a long time, without touching him, letting him look at her too. Two whole bodies, nothing in front, nothing behind.

—Lie down —she asked.

Adrián obeyed. He surrendered to the bed without saying a word, with his cock pointing at the ceiling, still shining from her mouth.

Elena climbed on top of him. She straddled him, took his cock in one hand, and ran it through her pussy, wetting it completely, rubbing her clit with the tip. Adrián clenched his teeth.

—Put it in me —he whispered.

She placed it at the entrance and lowered herself slowly. One centimeter. Another. She felt herself opening around him, felt her cunt stretch to take him in. When he was all the way inside, she stayed still, her hands resting on his chest, breathing.

—Fuck, you’ve got me so full —she murmured.

She began to move. First slowly, lifting and lowering her hips, letting the cock go in and out in full. Adrián grabbed her breasts with both hands, squeezed them, tugged her nipples. She increased the pace, leaning on him, riding him harder. The bed began to creak. Elena’s thighs slapped against his with every downward motion, with a wet, sticky sound that filled the room together with their moans.

—Like that, give it to me like that —she moaned—. All of it, all of it…

Adrián flipped her over in one sudden movement. He laid her on her back without pulling out, put her legs over his shoulders, and started fucking her with hard, dry thrusts, all the way in. Elena screamed. She grabbed the headboard. He sank in all the way each time, his cock hitting a deep spot that made her see stars.

—Tell me you like it —he panted.

—I love it, don’t stop, harder, fuck me harder…

He grabbed her hips and turned her face down. He lifted her ass, spread her cheeks with his thumbs, and drove into her from behind again, on all fours. Elena buried her face in the pillow and arched her back to offer herself better. Adrián held her by the hair with one hand and by the hip with the other, fucking her with an animal rhythm, without mercy. Every thrust ripped a muffled cry from her.

—I’m going to come —she warned, trembling all over—. I’m going to come again…

—Come with me.

He slipped one hand underneath and found her clit with two fingers, rubbing it while he kept pounding her from behind. Elena held on for three, four, five more thrusts and then exploded. She came on his cock, closing around him in waves, moaning into the pillow. Adrián held on one second longer and spilled inside her, pressing her hips against his, emptying himself completely with a rough groan torn from his chest.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, still joined, breathing hard. Then he slid out slowly, and a warm thread of semen ran down the inside of Elena’s thigh.

They collapsed side by side. She turned and found his mouth. He brushed away the hair stuck to her forehead and kissed her slowly, with no hurry at all.

Their noses almost touched. They were breathing the same air.

—Now we’re at the same point —said Elena.

Adrián opened his eyes. The look she found there was no longer only desire. It was something older, rarer, something neither of them had expected to discover in a hotel room on New Year’s Eve.

He rested his forehead against hers. He ran a hand over her cheek. And stayed there, one second, two, however many they needed, with his heart pounding against his ribs.

They knew what was coming. They knew that the rest of the year, and perhaps the rest of many years, depended on what they decided in that instant. But for once there was no rush. For once, desire was not an emergency: it was a calm, inevitable, shared presence.

The new year was barely two hours old.

They had the whole night ahead of them. And Adrián, already starting to harden again against her thigh, did not intend to waste a single minute.