The Night I Brought a Bar Customer Home to My Bed

I had just finished my degree. After five years, I’d passed my final subject and was finally a graduate in Art History from the University of Valencia. I had a whole summer ahead of me, with no exams or schedules, and I was desperate to breathe for a while before starting to worry about my future.

The problem was money. There had never been much of it at home, so throughout university I’d made my way by cleaning apartment buildings, babysitting, and, above all, serving drinks. I knew that, no matter how badly I wanted to rest, I needed to save something for the first few months after summer. So I decided to look for a job that would leave me, at least, a few nights free.

My best friend, Bea, had inherited an apartment in Peñíscola, right on the Castellón coast. One weekend in June I went down to visit her and we went out for dinner and drinks at a place on the promenade. There I ran into an old classmate from university who worked as a waiter at the place. We chatted for quite a while and, since it wasn’t very busy yet, he introduced us to his boss.

The man was called Dani, he owned the bar, and he turned out to be charming. He sat us at a quiet table, bought us the first round, and when I told him I was looking for something for the summer, he didn’t hesitate.

—I need people from Thursday to Sunday —he told me—. The busy nights. If you’re interested, the job is yours.

—Let me think about it —I replied.

—You’ve got until closing time tonight —he said with a smile, and went back to the bar.

Bea pushed me all night. That I should accept, that I should stay in her apartment, that in summer it was almost always empty, so I’d save on accommodation. She was right about everything. Before we left, I told Dani I’d start that same week.

***

My first Thursday I showed up put together but not over the top: jeans, a white shirt, low wedges, and light makeup. Why more, when the beach sun had already given me a nice tan? Dani was pleased to see me. He admitted he’d been afraid I might have backed out at the last minute.

It was a quiet night, all things considered. Lots of work, but no problems. I got along well with the DJ and one of the girls behind the bar. We closed at four-thirty and, although some of the others carried on partying at a club, I was wrecked and preferred to go home to sleep. It was barely five hundred meters from the bar to the apartment, a short walk.

I had the key in my hand when a calm voice spoke to me from behind.

—Good night, Nora.

I turned around, startled. I didn’t recognize anyone. In front of me was a dark-haired man with short hair, very tall, one of those men who force you to lift your chin to look at them. I had never seen him in my life.

—Hi? —I said, no more than that.

—Don’t you remember me?

—Should I?

—It’s normal that you don’t. There were loads of people in the bar.

—Sorry… and how do you know my name?

—I heard your coworker call you. I remembered the detail, sorry.

—Well, nice to meet you, then. And you are…?

—Hugo. And please don’t call me usted.

—It’s a habit. Besides…

—Yeah, yeah, age —he laughed—. You’re very young, right?

—I’m twenty-three.

—Exactly what I said.

—And you?

—I’ve got too many already.

—Come on, be honest. How many?

—Forty-four.

—That’s not that many —I said, and I don’t know why I said it.

We said goodbye in the entrance hall. I went upstairs, took off my makeup, and collapsed within minutes. I didn’t even think about him until the following night.

***

Hugo came back to the bar, as he’d promised. This time he didn’t go unnoticed. We greeted each other, joked about the encounter the previous dawn, and he asked me for a drink. I had to tend to other customers and couldn’t get back to him until a couple of hours later, when he took the chance to unload on me almost like a monologue.

—Look, Nora, I’m from Albacete. I’m only here because I’ve just gotten divorced and I need not to think, you know? I’ve got two kids and their mother won’t let me see them for another two weeks. At least here I can switch off a bit.

—Wow… I’m sorry.

—I don’t want to ruin your night, I’m just telling you so you don’t think badly of me. I’m a good guy, I swear.

—I haven’t thought badly of you at any point.

—Are you sure?

—Well, a little last night. You did scare me at first —I admitted—. But only that first moment.

—You can trust me. Will you have a drink with me?

—I’m working.

—When you finish, I mean.

—Tonight I’ve got plans with my coworkers. But another day, maybe.

—Tomorrow?

—Let me think about it —I said, giving him his own phrase back.

—Okay. But don’t think too long.

Friday got packed and I didn’t exchange more than two words with him. When we closed, I went out again with my coworkers to unwind. I got home after seven, knowing Saturday would be the hardest night.

***

On Saturday the bar was packed from the moment we opened. The bar and terrace were full, with no breathing room. When we finally closed, exhausted and in a bad mood, I realized I hadn’t seen Hugo all night. I said goodbye to the others and headed toward the apartment. It was almost five.

Right before I turned onto my street, I saw him come out of the crowd. He walked toward me and greeted me with a wide smile. I summed up the night for him with a face he understood immediately. We laughed. He asked whether I had the energy for that pending drink. I tried to dodge it with the excuse of being tired, but he insisted so much that I finally gave in, on the condition that I wouldn’t stay long.

He was genuinely attentive. He paid the club cover, bought me the drink, and talked to me about his divorce in more detail, as if he needed someone to listen. His voice broke a couple of times. It touched me. Despite how wrecked I was and how little I’d wanted to agree, time flew by. When I realized it, it was past six.

—I’ll walk you home —he said.

—It’s ridiculously late, go get some sleep.

—To the entrance and then I can relax.

I smiled. Hugo was the kind who doesn’t give up. We walked slowly, laughing at any old nonsense. Halfway there he offered me his arm and I took it. Even though it was summer, the early morning was cool and his body gave off warmth.

We reached the entrance. I thanked him for the invitation and the company, and admitted that at first I hadn’t felt like it at all, but that I was glad I’d lost a couple of hours of sleep for a conversation like that. He said the pleasure had been his.

I turned toward the door. Then he took my arm, firmly but not roughly, and when I turned back I noticed his gaze slowly traveling over me, as if he’d been holding himself back all night.

That night I’d gone to work in a short, fitted white dress, with a deep neckline, and thin black heels. No one forced me, but at the bar they valued a good appearance. He looked me in the eyes and said:

—I’ve never seen a woman as beautiful as you.

I blushed. All I could say was his name.

—Hugo…

—Don’t say anything. It’s how I feel.

—You’re lovely. You’ve really surprised me. In a good way.

I turned back toward the door and he stopped me again, but this time he came closer and kissed me. A soft kiss, almost shy. I can’t say I kissed him back, but I didn’t pull away either. We looked at each other, smiled, and without a word we kissed again, this time more slowly. A shiver ran down my spine. It felt good. I felt his chest against mine, his breath, how big he was next to me. Sleep and exhaustion evaporated at once. And I noticed, pressed against my stomach through my shorts, the hard bulge of his cock, already pushing, asking to come out. A gasp escaped me into his mouth.

We pulled apart and this time I was the one who spoke.

—I know it’s late, but… do you want to come up?

***

He didn’t answer. He wrapped an arm around my waist and we went into the entrance. I opened the apartment door, switched on the hall light, and we kissed again, this time with hunger. His hands searched for my waist while I rested mine on his shoulders. I took him by the hand to the bedroom.

Hugo was wearing denim shorts, sandals, and a white linen shirt. He had an athletic body, a neatly trimmed beard. Despite the years between us, I thought he was a very attractive man.

He kissed me softly while his hands said something else. It didn’t matter where he put them —my arms, my back, my hips— everything conveyed a contained urgency. I could barely manage to wrap my arms around his waist; other times I laced my fingers behind his neck while we kissed.

Little by little, he stopped being soft. His mouth moved from my lips to my neck, and from my neck to my shoulders. I breathed deeply, letting myself go, feeling how each brush of his skin raised goosebumps over mine. His hands moved up to my breasts and he squeezed them over the fabric of the dress, feeling for their weight, finding the nipples with his thumbs until they hardened. I was trying to unbutton his shirt, but nerves got the better of me and my fingers wouldn’t obey.

He pulled the bodice of my dress down with a skill that almost embarrassed me. My tits were left bare, white where the sun hadn’t touched them, with pink nipples stiff as stones. He stared at them for a second, mouth open, and whispered a “fuck, what tits you’ve got” that made the back of my neck prickle. He bent down and took them in both hands, squeezing them, taking them into his mouth one after the other, sucking my nipples with his lips and then with his teeth, marking them with short bites that made me arch my back. I was moaning without meaning to, my head thrown back. There was no turning back now, and I didn’t want there to be. I scratched the back of his neck, tugged his hair, and asked for more. I showed him by kissing his chest and abdomen while I finished taking off his shirt, leaving a trail of saliva down his abs to the waistband of his briefs.

He whispered something in my ear, something dirty, something like “take my pants off and suck me, pretty girl.” I understood perfectly. I knelt before him, undid the belt buckle, the button of his pants, and yanked down his jeans and briefs in one pull. His cock sprang free, already rock hard, thick, with the vein standing out underneath and the glans swollen and shiny. I stared at it for a moment, sizing it up. It was big, bigger than I’d imagined. I took it in my hand —my fingers couldn’t quite go all the way around it— and started stroking him slowly, sliding the skin up and down, watching his whole body tense, a clear little drop appearing at the tip.

I caught it with my tongue. It was salty. I licked his full length from base to glans, very slowly, looking up at him from below. Hugo let out a groan and put a hand on the back of my neck without pressing. I opened my mouth and took it all in, or almost all. It reached the back of my throat and made my eyes water a little. I pulled back, took a breath, and took him in again, this time setting a rhythm. Forward, back. Forward, back. I sucked with tight lips, my tongue circling the glans each time I came up. I went down to lick his balls too, one first, then the other, while continuing to give him a slow handjob. I sucked them one by one, carefully, and went back up to his cock, now hungry, taking him into my mouth until tears sprang to my eyes and saliva dripped down my chin.

—Fuck, Nora, like that… like that… —he panted, grabbing my hair, setting the rhythm—. You suck cock so well, fuck…

I sped up. I was going for it. I wanted to feel him come in my mouth. But just when I could feel him throbbing between my lips, he stopped me, laughing and tugging gently on my hair, making it clear that if I kept going like that, he wouldn’t last.

—Wait, wait, you’re gonna make me come already and we’ve been at it for two minutes —he said, his voice hoarse.

He stripped completely and yanked my dress off over my head, along with the black panties I was wearing underneath. I stood naked before him, only my heels still on. When he moved to take those off too, he asked me to keep them on.

—With the heels. You’re made to be fucked like that.

I smiled and buckled them back on. He came close to my neck again, kissed me, bit me, and laid me on the bed, letting his weight fall over me. He opened my legs with his knee and bent down. He didn’t go for my mouth. He went straight for my cunt. He opened it with two fingers and sank his tongue between my lips, searching for my clit. When he found it, he started sucking it slowly, enveloping it, and I arched completely on the bed. I grabbed his head and pressed it hard against my cunt, almost smothering him. He licked, sucked, drank me, slid his tongue inside and came back up to the clit. He slid two fingers in and curled them upward while he kept eating me out with his mouth wide open, and I started screaming without being able to control myself. I came like that, with his fingers inside and his tongue pounding me, soaking his face and hand.

Still trembling, he climbed up my body kissing my belly and tits. I felt his hands on my hips and then him entering me: with difficulty at first, because he was big and it had been a long time since anyone had opened me up like that, and then all the way in, to the hilt, until I felt his balls slapping against my ass. I screamed. My moans answered every thrust. I sank my nails into his back and asked for more in his ear.

—Harder, fuck, harder, fuck me, Hugo, fuck me…

—Like this, do you like it like this, you slut? Do you like it when I shove it in?

—Yes, yes, like that, don’t stop…

I lifted my feet, heels still on, to rest them on his shoulders so he could go deeper. In that position he fucked me all the way, not leaving a centimeter out, and the rhythm was brutal. The bed slammed against the wall, my tits bounced with every thrust, and he stared at me without looking away, biting his lip. There was some pain when he drove into me too deep, but above all there was pleasure, a pleasure that rose from my cunt to the nape of my neck in waves, and a second orgasm that left me breathless, screaming his name and clawing at his chest.

He stopped for a second, pulling completely out of me. I saw him come out shiny, soaked in my juices. He lay back and pulled me on top of him.

—Now ride me. I want to see you.

I climbed astride him, took his cock in my hand and started easing it inside me, sitting down on him centimeter by centimeter. When I felt him all the way inside, I stayed still for a moment, enjoying being so full. I started riding him slowly, hands on his chest, looking into his half-closed eyes. He watched my tits bounce, grabbed them, pinched my nipples. The more I moved, the more my own arousal rose, and he answered by pushing from below, driving it all the way into me, with the occasional slap on my ass that made me cry out and clamp my cunt around his cock.

—Fuck, how tight you are, slut… like that, move like that…

I slipped off my heels so I could straddle him better, with my feet flat on the mattress. And I went up and down as fast as I could, fucking him myself, feeling his cock going in and out at full speed, with the wet sound of my soaked cunt. Hugo grabbed my hips and drove me down onto him with every drop. I came again, throwing my head back, and sank my nails into his chest. He went so deep on one thrust that I had to stop suddenly, my breath cut off.

I sat up, but he turned me over and put me on all fours. He grabbed my hair, wound it around his fist, and pulled it back, arching me. With his other hand he spread my ass cheeks and shoved it into me again, hard, all the way in. I moaned like a madwoman. There he let everything loose: the hardest he’d been all night, thrusts I felt in my stomach, hair-pulling, increasingly firm slaps on my ass that left it red and burning.

—Take cock, slut, take it… do you like getting fucked like this, with your little ass in the air?

—Yes, yes, give me more, harder, break me…

He spit on my ass and ran his thumb over my asshole, pushing a little, without quite getting it all the way in. The brush of it alone made me burst into another orgasm. I was so turned on that I came two or three more times like that, on all fours, my cunt dripping and my legs trembling. The bed was a wreck, the sheet soaked beneath us. I wanted it never to end and, at the same time, I wanted him to finish too.

But then, sweaty and exhausted, he stopped. He pulled out, looked at it, gave it a couple of shakes with his hand. He couldn’t finish. We’d gone on too long, he’d held on too long, and now the climax was slipping away from him. He lay back on the bed, panting, looking at me with an apologetic face.

—Sorry, pretty girl, I don’t know what’s wrong with me… it’s been a long time since I…

He didn’t need to say anything else. I wanted this to end well for both of us. I kissed him on the mouth, shut him up, and moved down his chest and abdomen leaving a trail of kisses. I whispered in his ear to relax, that I’d get it out of him. I took his cock, still hard but tired, between my hands. I stroked it very slowly at first, with both hands, one over the other, moving up and down in a long motion. Little by little, faster. I licked the glans, using just the tip of my tongue, circling around it. I took it back into my mouth, all the way in, and came out slowly, sucking hard. I ran my tongue along the vein underneath, up to the tip, and there I stayed for a while playing with the frenulum.

I grabbed his balls with one hand, squeezing them carefully, and with the other I pumped him while I sucked him. I offered him my breasts. I put his cock between my tits and squeezed them around it, wrapping him up, moving up and down so he could fuck between them. Whenever the glans peeked out at the top, I licked it. Hugo started breathing harder, whispering my name, grabbing the sheets.

—Nora, fuck, Nora, like that, keep going, keep going…

I took him back into my mouth, this time hungry, sucking hard, my hand pumping at the base in the same rhythm. I didn’t stop. I felt him tense all over, his thighs contracting, his cock swelling even more between my lips, and finally he came with a long, rough groan, spilling everything into my mouth. Hot, thick spurts filled my tongue, slipped from the corners of my mouth, and dripped down my chin onto my tits. He kept repeating my name between gasps. I didn’t stop until I was sure there was nothing left, milking him for the last drop. I swallowed what I had in my mouth, took his cock out, and ran my tongue over it to clean off the remains on the outside too. I looked up and found him staring at me with a stupid grin, breathless. It had been madness, one of those nights you think you’ll remember forever.

***

The first rays of sunlight were already slipping through the slats of the blind. It must have been almost eight. Instead of having slept for hours, I was in bed with a man twenty years older than me whom I’d met two days earlier. If I thought that summer would give me some story to tell, this had been the first one, and it would make it very hard for the others to top.

And then, when time seemed to have stopped and everything was magic and calm, a phone rang. It was Hugo’s mobile, left switched on in the pocket of his pants. He moved away from me carefully, looked at the screen, and answered.

—Yes? Tell me.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying on the other end, but I could tell it was a woman’s voice. He spoke little. And then Hugo answered:

—Ah, okay, okay… so you’re getting there earlier. Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m on my way and I’ll see you there. See you in a bit. Yes, don’t worry. I love you.

He tried to come closer to explain something to me. I didn’t let him. There was no need. I understood everything at once: he had lied to me these past few days. The divorce, the loneliness, the children he couldn’t see… or maybe not all of it, but he certainly wasn’t as alone as he’d made me believe. I gathered his clothes, put them in his hands, and ordered him to leave and never come near me again. He tried to answer. I didn’t let him. He got dressed in a hurry and left. I locked the door as soon as he closed it behind him.

The first thing I did was cry. I felt deceived, ripped off, made a fool of. Then I got into the shower trying to wash off that feeling of dirtiness, scrubbing my still-sore cunt, my tits marked by his bites, my ass red from the slaps. Every mark on my skin was a reminder of the asshole I’d let upstairs. I lay down on the bed, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I couldn’t stop feeling stupid and, at the same time, as desired as he’d made me feel all night.

I’d have to forget him, turn the page, and understand that it wasn’t my fault. I had been kind and trusting, from the heart. It was time to rebuild myself again. But there was still a long summer ahead, and too much life to spend tormenting myself over a stranger who didn’t deserve one more hour of my sleep.