The Graduation Party That Ended in the Upstairs Bathroom

My name is Mariana, and I had just turned eighteen when what I’m about to tell you happened. It was graduation night, at Bruno’s enormous house—the kind of guy who always threw the wildest parties in our group. The music throbbed so loudly that the bass sank into my chest and lower still, all the way to my pussy, as if someone were touching me inside without permission.

Red and blue lights flashed against the walls, and the air was heavy with spilled beer, cheap perfume, and the sweat of a mass of bodies packed together and moving in the living room. I was wearing a short black dress, the kind that rides up on its own every time you move. No bra, because it made me feel freer, and because I liked the way my nipples showed through the thin fabric whenever I brushed against someone.

I was sweaty, my hair stuck to my neck, a few strands falling across my face as I danced alone in the middle of everyone. My thighs rubbed together, my skin hot, and between my legs I could already feel the dampness soaking my thong, a sticky thread slowly slipping inward every time I opened my hips. I wasn’t dancing for anyone in particular. Or that’s what I told myself.

Then I saw him. Tomás, from my class—the one who always glanced at me during lessons and never dared say anything. Tall, dark-haired, with that slightly awkward smile and big hands that had made me nervous since our first year. He was leaning against the makeshift bar in the kitchen, a can in his hand, staring at me without even trying to hide it.

Our eyes met, and he didn’t look away. I bit my lip, smiled at him slowly, and kept rolling my hips harder, arching my back a little. I knew he was watching everything: the sweat glistening in my cleavage, the way the dress hugged my body, the way my loose tits and my ass showed whenever I turned.

Come on, already, I thought. Go for it.

It wasn’t even a minute before he was behind me. I felt his body press against mine in the middle of the dance floor. His big hands gripped my waist, firm and demanding, and pulled me against him. His cock was already visibly hard, pressing against my ass through his pants.

“What’s the matter? Did dancing alone get you that turned on?” he whispered in my ear, his voice rough from the music and beer.

His hot breath brushed my neck and made me close my eyes for a second. Instead of answering, I began to rub my ass against him slowly, moving up and down, grinding his dick through the fabric of my dress, feeling it grow harder with every movement.

“What do you think?” I said, turning my head, my lips brushing his ear. “Look what you’re doing to me.”

I reached one hand back between us and squeezed his cock through his clothes. It was rock-hard, throbbing in my palm. He let out a low growl that vibrated through my entire body and made me smile. I stroked his whole dick over his jeans, up and down, squeezing the tip, feeling the damp spot already showing through the fabric.

The people around us kept dancing without noticing—or pretending not to notice—but that was exactly what turned me on more: knowing anyone could see us, knowing that if someone looked closely, they could realize I was touching his cock right in the middle of the dance floor. For years we had shared a classroom without getting beyond a shy greeting, and now we were like this, tangled up in the middle of everyone, two years’ worth of stored-up looks suddenly breaking through to the surface.

Tomás spun me around suddenly, face-to-face, and kissed me without warning, his tongue thrusting deep into my mouth, the taste of his last drink still on his lips. I grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him back with everything I had, sucking his tongue, biting his lip, without thinking about who might see us or what they would say on Monday, if they ever found out.

His hands slid down to my ass, squeezing it hard, spreading my cheeks slightly beneath the dress. I felt his fingers brush the edge of my thong, soaked from side to side, and slip underneath, sliding down my crack until they brushed my wet pussy.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he murmured against my lips. “You’re shaking all over.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed his shirt and dragged him down the dark hallway, dodging couples kissing against the wall and groups laughing too loudly. We went up the stairs nearly stumbling, me laughing nervously, his hand under my dress, sliding up my thigh, two fingers brushing my pussy at every step.

***

We went into the upstairs guest bathroom, and I locked the door. The noise of the party still thundered through the walls, distant and constant, like a heartbeat. The light was dim and yellowish, and suddenly the space felt small and hot, ours alone.

I hopped up onto the sink, spread my legs wide, my dress pushed up to my waist, my soaked thong outlining the lips of my pussy. He stood there for a second, staring at me open and exposed, as if he couldn’t believe this was really happening. I could barely believe it myself.

“Are you going to stand there staring at my pussy?” I asked, and my own voice sounded bolder than I expected.

Tomás knelt without saying a word. He yanked my thong down, smelled it without the slightest hesitation, and left it hanging from one ankle. His face was inches from my pussy, his hot breath striking my swollen lips, and I felt everything inside me clench just from the anticipation.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, and the words melted me more than any dirty talk could have. “And you’re all wet for me.”

He ran his tongue over me slowly, one long, unhurried caress from underneath up to my clitoris, gathering up all my wetness, and made me arch my back sharply. I moaned louder than I should have and grabbed his hair with both hands, pushing his face against me.

“That’s it, don’t stop, eat me out completely,” I begged, my voice breathless.

He licked me as if he had all the time in the world, focused and intent, circling my clitoris with the tip of his tongue, sucking it, catching it between his lips. Then he lowered his head and took me all the way into his mouth, fucking my pussy with his tongue while his nose pressed against my clitoris. I began moving against his face without any control, my hips finding their own rhythm, rubbing my whole pussy over his mouth.

“Put your fingers inside me,” I panted. “Don’t stop, fuck.”

He obeyed. Two fingers pushed their way inside me, sliding easily all the way in, and he began pumping them quickly while continuing to suck my clitoris without stopping. He curled his fingers upward, finding that exact spot that made my legs tremble and my heels press against his back. Every time he pulled them out, they came out glistening, soaked with me, and I heard the wet sound of my pussy dripping against his hand.

“Deeper, faster,” I pleaded, clutching his hair. “You’re going to make me come, don’t stop, don’t stop…”

The pleasure rose quickly, too quickly, a wave I couldn’t hold back even if I wanted to. He slipped in a third finger, and that was when I couldn’t hold out any longer.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, fuck…”

The orgasm split me in two. I clenched around his fingers, squeezing them with my pussy as if I didn’t want to let go, my head thrown back against the mirror, my thighs trembling nonstop, dripping over his hand and chin. He didn’t pull away until I stopped moving, until the final shudder escaped me in a long sigh. When he lifted his face, it was shining from his nose to his chin, and he licked his lips while looking into my eyes.

***

When I opened my eyes again, he was already standing, wearing a crooked smile and breathing hard. He yanked down his pants and underwear without taking his eyes off me, and his cock sprang free, hard and thick, its tip red and a glistening drop on the head. I slid off the sink, my legs still weak, until I was standing in front of him.

“Now it’s my turn,” I said, my eyes fixed on his dick.

I gently pushed him against the wall and lowered myself, kneeling on the bath mat. I took him in my hand slowly, squeezing the base, enjoying the way his breath caught and the way his cock throbbed in my fist. I looked up to see his face as I moved closer, because I wanted to remember that expression exactly.

I started slowly, with my tongue, licking the tip, gathering up that salty drop, drawing circles around the head. I ran my tongue down his entire length, following the vein underneath from base to tip, and then sucked his balls one at a time, taking them into my mouth. He shuddered and let out a muffled moan.

“Fuck, Mariana…”

I returned to his cock and took it all in at once, until the tip touched my throat and my eyes filled with tears. I began sucking him quickly, tightening my lips around him, helping myself with my hand at the base, making wet, filthy sounds that blended with the music from downstairs. Every time I pulled him out, a strand of saliva hung from my lip, and he watched me with his mouth open, touching my hair, not daring to push yet.

“Put it in me however you want,” I said hoarsely, his cock resting against my cheek. “Fuck my mouth.”

I didn’t have to say it twice. He gripped the back of my head with both hands and began moving my head to his rhythm, thrusting in and out of my mouth, deeper each time, faster each time. I let him do it, my jaw open, swallowing whatever reached me, moaning around his dick whenever he touched my throat.

“Mariana,” he murmured my name as if it were difficult for him. “Stop, stop, I’m going to come.”

I stopped and stood up, my mouth swollen, a strand of saliva running down my chin. I kissed him with my mouth still full of his taste, then sat back down on the edge of the sink. I pulled him toward me with my legs, wrapping them around his hips, guiding his cock with my hand until I pressed the tip against the entrance to my soaked pussy.

“Then put it in me already,” I whispered in his ear. “Fuck me.”

He entered slowly the first time, opening me, sinking in inch by inch, watching me and taking care not to rush. I let out a long moan of pure pleasure, feeling him fill me completely, and dug my nails into his back. Once he was all the way inside, he stayed still for a second, breathing into my mouth, and then began to move.

At first, his thrusts were slow and deep, pulling almost all the way out and then going back in to the hilt. I felt every inch scraping inside me, touching that spot that was already burning. When he was sure I was ready, he started fucking me harder, and the sound of our bodies colliding—skin against skin, my ass striking the porcelain sink, his pelvis pounding me—blended with the distant bass of the party.

“Is this okay?” he asked between thrusts, still checking on me.

“Harder, harder, break me,” I answered, biting his shoulder so I wouldn’t scream. “Put it all the way in, fuck.”

He held my waist with one hand and gripped the back of my neck with the other, kissing my neck, biting it, whispering filthy things in my ear that I could barely understand but that made me burn. He yanked my dress down to my waist and sucked one of my tits, biting my nipple without stopping fucking me.

“Your pussy feels so good,” he growled. “It’s squeezing me all the way.”

The mirror behind me fogged up with our heat, and I felt every movement shoot up my spine like an electric current. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressed my forehead against his, and began rolling my ass against him, meeting every thrust, riding his cock from the edge of the sink.

“Turn around,” he suddenly told me, pulling out of me, and I obeyed without thinking.

He turned me around and bent me over the sink, my ass raised, watching me in the fogged-up mirror. He spread my cheeks with one hand and drove himself into me again in a single thrust, all the way to the bottom, drawing a moan from me that I’m sure carried into the hallway. He began fucking me from behind, gripping my waist, pulling my hair, every blow burying him completely inside me.

“Look at yourself,” he said in my ear, forcing me to lift my face toward the mirror. “Look at how you let yourself get fucked.”

There I was, flushed and sweaty, my mouth open, my eyes half-closed, moaning like a bitch in heat while the guy from my class wrecked my pussy in someone else’s bathroom. And I loved it.

“Don’t stop, like that, like that, harder, you’re going to make me come again…”

The second orgasm caught me by surprise, deeper than the first, rising from my belly to my throat. I clung to the edge of the sink, trembling, squeezing his cock with my pussy in spasms, and felt him tense at the same time, thrusting faster and rougher.

“I’m coming, Mariana, I’m coming, where…?”

“On my face,” I begged, turning slightly and dropping to my knees again. “Come on my face.”

He pulled out, jerked himself twice in front of me, and the first jet landed hot on my cheek and mouth. Two, three, four more spurts followed, as he grunted, splashing my tongue, chin, and cleavage. My mouth was open, my tongue out, swallowing whatever reached me, and I licked the tip at the end to steal his last drop. We stood there panting, our foreheads pressed together, my face gleaming with semen while he couldn’t stop looking at me.

***

We stayed like that for a while, catching our breath, laughing quietly at what had just happened. I wiped my face with toilet paper in front of the mirror, unable to erase my smile. He helped me down from the sink and kissed me again, this time slowly, without rushing, as if he wanted to stretch the moment out a little longer.

“This doesn’t have to end here,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I straightened my dress in front of the fogged-up mirror, my legs still trembling, my ruined thong tucked into his pants pocket because he wanted to keep it. Downstairs, the music continued, the party continued, everyone still unaware.

I looked at him over my shoulder before opening the door.

“Who knows,” I replied. “The night is still young.”

And as we went back down the stairs toward the noise and lights, my pussy still throbbing and his semen drying on my chest, I thought that graduation would be the one thing from high school I would never forget. Not because of the diploma. Because of him, that locked door, and the brazen slut I discovered I could be when no one was watching me. Or when the only person watching was the right one.