The Night My Friend Left Me Alone with Them

There are days you mark on the calendar months in advance. Mine had had a red circle since spring, and nerves had been with me since the night before. For a long time, a friend had talked me into buying a ticket for the first night of a festival in Mallorca, where I live. One of my favorite singers was playing, so she didn’t have to insist very much.

By the way, I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Marina, I’m twenty-six, and I’m from the island. I haven’t had a partner since I broke up with a guy who really knocked me sideways, and since then it’s been hard for me to open up. I take care of myself without obsessing over it, I go to the gym when my body asks for it. I have brown hair just past my shoulders; I cut it in summer because I was dying of heat, and I’ve always had curves. I look good, basically. Big tits, a perky ass, and a cunt that had gone months without feeling anything other than my own fingers. Since my ex, just the odd drunk kiss at a party, nothing else.

The festival opened at seven-thirty, but my singer didn’t go on until eleven, so I wasn’t in any rush for the opening acts. To avoid depending on outrageously expensive taxis at six in the morning, we rented an apartment ten minutes’ walk from the venue. The plan was to sleep there and get up whenever we felt like it.

Let me introduce my friend Noa. She’s two years older than me, but she always comes out with our usual group. She’s taller and thinner, and much more consistent than I am at the gym. She’s a bit crazy, I’m not judging her: she has a job that burns her out, and when she goes out she goes all in, with the drinks and with the guys. She boasts that she fucks better when she’s drunk, and by now I believe her.

Her father drove us there. On the way, we turned the back seat into our own personal karaoke booth, belting out songs at the top of our lungs. The poor man didn’t say a word, I suppose he was just staring at the two lunatics he had behind him. It was mid-September and the heat was sticky. Noa kept it simple but cute: denim shorts, a black top, and ankle boots. I took more of a gamble, with a bikini underneath and a sheer dress over the top.

When we got to the main stage there were still gaps where you could squeeze in. Thank God, because the wave of people promised to be huge. We went to the bar for a drink each. I hardly ever drink, but one day is one day. They charged us a pretty penny for the plastic cups, of course.

At the bar there was a group of four guys and one girl. From the accent we knew they weren’t from here. And since Noa talks to lampposts too, she went straight up and introduced herself to the girl in the other group.

“Hey, I love your outfit, it looks amazing on you,” she blurted out.

“Hi, thanks,” she replied, laughing. “It’s a bit uncomfortable, but I bought it ages ago and came determined to wear it.”

“I came in something simple, you’ve got to be able to dance!” the two of them laughed. “The one hiding behind me is Marina. Where are you guys from?”

“We’re classmates in Seville,” one of the guys answered. “We came for the weekend.”

They gave us two kisses each. There was a bit of everything: tall ones, short ones, short hair, long hair. The girl, whose name was Daniela, joined us so naturally that in ten minutes we looked like we’d been friends forever. The guys kept more to themselves, but their presence gave us a certain sense of safety. Only one of them bothered me a little; he seemed a bit cold, though I assumed it was shyness at meeting us.

The night was spectacular. It had been a long time since my feet had hurt so much and I’d lost my voice from singing too much. We’d had two drinks each when, around two, Daniela started feeling unwell. I don’t know if it was the alcohol or something that had really disagreed with her, but she went white as a sheet. Noa took her to the bathroom and I was left alone with the guys.

I felt a little uncomfortable with the way they looked at me in that sheer dress, but I told myself it was normal.

When I saw they weren’t coming back, I went to find them with one of the guys, the one who seemed nicest to me. Daniela was in no shape to do much of anything. She asked us to take her to the taxi rank, because she preferred to go back to the hotel. We bought her a soda and walked with her, because we weren’t leaving her on her own, not even joking.

At the taxi rank, Noa asked her if she wasn’t going to call her friends so they could go back together, but Daniela just laughed. We looked at each other, not understanding, though we assumed she didn’t want to ruin their night. Before getting into the taxi we exchanged phone numbers and social media; we’d really clicked. It was almost four, the festival was history, and the crowd was heading en masse toward the taxis.

“Babe, let’s go to the apartment already,” Noa told me, looking dead on her feet.

We walked in silence, exhausted. When we got to the building entrance, Daniela called us to say she’d made it to the hotel okay; thank God, the poor thing was wrecked. In the middle of the conversation I saw Noa typing something on her phone and finish with, “Done, there.”

“What did you send? The photos?” I asked, curious.

“No, the location. The guys say taxis are impossible and they’re going to have to wait for the bus until six,” she replied, perfectly calm.

My face changed.

“What are you talking about? I’m shattered. The last thing I feel like doing is waiting around with them for an hour and a half,” I said, a little annoyed. “Besides, the one I liked was Daniela, not them.”

“Don’t get mad, they’re from out of town and don’t even know where to go. Let them wait here a bit and then we’ll tell them which bus to take. A little empathy,” she defended herself, hurt because she’d done it with good intentions.

I shut up. I sat on the apartment sofa and tried to process it.

“Sorry. If you want, go to bed, I’ll wait with them,” she said after a while.

“It’s fine, sorry for reacting like that,” I gave her a small smile. In the end it was a special night; what did it cost me?

***

All four of them arrived, already less drunk. They started fiddling with their phones and I did the same, exhausted. Noa, though, was the party cheerleader, asking stupid questions: which song they liked best, who had performed better. I prefer her to be the extrovert, so I don’t have to be.

I wasn’t paying much attention, but at one point I looked up and saw she had put her hand on one of the guys’ shoulders. It was nearly five; they wouldn’t be leaving for much longer, so I put my phone down out of politeness and joined in the conversation. The guy next to Noa was saying he’d tried it with Daniela unsuccessfully.

“Well, that’s her loss, because you’re really nice,” Noa told him, convinced. “And handsome, let’s not kid ourselves.”

They laughed with a complicity that already sounded dangerous to me. When he put his hand on her thigh, I was floored: we had just met them.

“You’re really pretty too. Do you have a boyfriend?” Noa shook her head. “Then even better for me.”

Things sped up. Noa crossed one leg over his and he never took his hand off her thigh. I tried to brush it off and started uploading a few festival stories, ignoring them. Until I noticed the silence. I looked up and they were making out with tongue, no attempt to hide it, and his hand had already slipped inside her shorts and was squeezing her cunt over her panties.

It was foolish to think it would stop at a kiss.

The other three were watching and laughing on their sofa. When I saw Noa unzip him and pull his cock out right there, in front of us, and start jerking him off while glancing at me with a slutty grin, I stepped in before the situation got completely out of hand.

“Noa, go to the bedroom, come on, we’re here.”

“Sorry, babe,” she broke the kiss, tucked the guy’s cock away with almost comical tenderness, took him by the hand and dragged him into the room.

I couldn’t believe it. She’d left me alone in the living room with three strangers. The situation was extremely awkward. The guys laughed, playing it down, and that eased the tension a little. Then I realized one of them was staring at me fixedly, with no shame, eyes locked on my tits under the sheer fabric.

“What are you looking at?” I snapped as sharply as I could.

“Sorry, Marina, I spaced out staring into nothing.”

“Into nothing? You were staring at my tits,” the other two laughed. “Try to have a bit of shame.”

“You’re right, sorry. But your nipples are showing through and I’ve been fighting not to look for a while.”

“Don’t hold it against him,” said another. “With the scene we just saw, his blood went straight to his cock and you were sitting right there.”

I laughed without much enthusiasm, just to keep things calm. And, involuntarily, my eyes drifted to his crotch. The bulge outlined in his jeans was shameless, a hard cock throbbing against the fly that made no effort to hide itself.

“Hey, you’re looking too,” he laughed.

I looked away at once, dying of embarrassment. It was a reflex, I swear. He stood up and sat next to me.

“Don’t worry, mine was accidental too. It’s fine,” his confidence, in a way, pulled me out of my embarrassment. “Do you have a partner?”

“Yes,” I lied, hoping he’d leave me alone.

“What a shame, you’re really pretty,” he laughed with his friends. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you alone now. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

I liked the gesture. I glanced sideways and he was still hard, the tip visible under the fabric; suddenly the situation went from awkward to funny. I settled back with my phone, more relaxed, although underneath the dress I could feel the bikini sticking to a cunt that was starting to get wet without my permission. And then something started coming from the bedroom: Noa’s moans, with no attempt to hide them. A crystal-clear “like that, like that, harder,” followed by the rhythmic thumping of the headboard against the wall and the wet slapping of a cock going in and out. They burst out laughing and, without meaning to, I joined in.

“See, Marina? How am I supposed to go soft like this?” he said, pointing at the bulge shamelessly. “Listen to her, the little slut is fucking him in your own bed.”

“Yeah, I see,” I tried not to look.

“I’m going to ask you for something a bit extreme,” he swallowed hard and gathered his courage. “Do you mind if I take mine out and jerk off here? I’m insanely turned on by the scene. I can go to the bathroom if you want.”

“No, chill, do whatever you want.”

Why did I say that so calmly? I didn’t even know.

He unbuttoned his trousers, pulled his jeans down to mid-thigh and yanked his cock out in one go. It was thick, on the long side, with a purple, swollen head and a thick vein running down the shaft. He spat into his palm and started working it slowly, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. I was trying not to look, hearing soft moans beside me while in the background my friend’s soundtrack continued, now in the phase of broken screams and “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come” on repeat. It was surreal.

“Marina,” I met his gaze without lowering mine. “Do you mind standing up? I’m embarrassed to finish like this sitting down, sorry, but you have a gorgeous ass and it would help to see it properly.”

Without saying a word, I got up and turned my back to him. With the dress sheer, my bikini showed through, and by the way he was breathing I knew he liked it. I heard him spit into his hand again and speed up, and the sticky sound of foreskin sliding up and down got inside me. I was trying not to look, but the situation was turning me on: me there, in a thong under a dress, offering myself up as jerk-off material for a stranger. I could feel the bikini panties getting wet, and my nipples were hard as stones against the fabric. The other two faded into the background; they’d also taken out their cocks, each one in his own hand, watching and stroking themselves calmly.

“Can I touch your ass a little? Over the dress.”

“Yeah, sure,” I was already horny as hell.

He touched me with one hand while with the other he kept pumping his cock. He squeezed and kneaded me without rushing, sliding up to my hip and down to the crease of my ass cheek. On one pass he gave me a light slap and I felt my cunt clench all on its own. When I turned my head I found his cock at face level and, I admit it, I couldn’t take my eyes off it. What a display he was giving himself, the tip shining with fluid and a thread of spit sliding down the shaft.

“Want to touch?” he asked, laughing.

“No, no.”

“Go on, just a little,” and he took my wrist gently, placed my hand on it and closed my fingers around his cock. It felt hot, thick, pulsing in my palm.

I let myself go. I started stroking him slowly, working my fist up and down the whole length, playing with the foreskin and feeling how his skin tightened. He held my hips with both hands and looked at my face and smiled, knowing I liked it. When I turned, I saw the other two were also occupied with themselves, their cocks out, watching the scene without embarrassment. I couldn’t believe it.

“You’ve got time, gorgeous,” he murmured. “Kneel down and take it in your mouth already, because we both know your body’s asking for it.”

“Time for what?” I snapped back, even though I was already thinking about doing it.

“For whatever you want.”

I kept going for another second, squeezing the base and feeling the pulse in my fingers, until the idea popped into my head: why not? If I’m honest, I’ve always liked giving pleasure with my mouth; sucking a guy off while looking him in the eyes has turned me on for years. So I didn’t think about it anymore.

“I’m making this clear from the start,” I took a breath. “Just a blowjob. No fucking. I don’t know any of you from Adam.”

“Fine, relax. Suck it however you want, gorgeous.”

I felt a strange relief, as if I’d given myself permission. I knelt on the carpet between his spread legs and started slowly. First I ran my flat tongue all over the length, from base to tip, and licked the glans in circles, tasting the salty pre-cum that kept coming out. I kissed his balls, sucked them one by one, kept them in my mouth for a while while I worked his cock slowly with my hand. He let out a groan and buried his fingers in my hair.

“Fuck, you’re such a slut, Marina.”

Then I took him into my mouth. At first just the head, sucking it with my lips tight and teasing the frenulum with my tongue. Then I went lower, swallowing little by little, until it hit the back of my throat and I had to pull back with a gag. The three of them laughed. I laughed too, because the situation was ridiculous, no point denying it. I spat a good mouthful of saliva onto his cock and used it to slide my hand up and down while I sucked just the tip, alternating long licks with hard sucks that made him lift his hips off the sofa. I yanked my dress off and stayed in my bikini, kneeling in front of him, with my tits almost spilling out of the top and that soundtrack still going on in the background: Noa screaming “that’s it, so big, put all that cock in me, fuck” on the other side of the wall.

“She’s hot, huh?” he said to his friends. “Look at that mouth. Come on, come closer and watch her suck.”

I was speechless. Seriously? The other two came closer and stood at the sides of the sofa, each with his cock in hand, less than a meter from my face. But far from bothering me, part of me was enjoying it: three strangers with their cocks out, paying attention to me in the middle of the night, and my friend on the other side of the wall fucking and screaming. Life takes some turns. I concentrated on what I was doing, determined to finish what I’d started. I sped up, taking him halfway down my mouth and coming back up with suction, letting a thread of spit hang from my chin. The guy started thrusting into my mouth, grabbing my hair, and I let him, relaxing my jaw and breathing through my nose when I could.

“Take it all, come on, all the way down.”

I tried. Tears sprang to my eyes and I choked again, with a thick strand of saliva linking my lips to the tip when I pulled off. I went back in, slower, and felt the shaft throb against my tongue.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck.”

When he was close he stood up and grabbed it himself. I stayed kneeling, looking him in the eyes with my mouth open and my tongue out, not even thinking about what the pose was asking for. It took no more than three pulls: he gave a rough groan and fired the first thick rope on my cheek, another landed inside my mouth, hot and salty, and the rest dripped down my chin and cleavage. He collapsed onto the sofa, spent, with his cock still leaking. I ran to my bag to grab some wipes and clean myself off, warm cum sliding down my neck, trying to ignore the other two, who were stroking themselves furiously with their eyes fixed on me.

“I knew it,” he said from the sofa.

“Knew what?” I asked.

“That you suck cock like a dream. It was all over your face.”

I flushed crimson. What a way to thank me for the favor. And yet, when I cooled off, it didn’t quite bother me.

“And you two?” I threw at the other two, surprising myself. “If you want, I’ll turn around and you can come on my ass while you watch, no problem.”

The three of them laughed, though this time I didn’t understand why.

“Don’t you feel like getting on your knees for a little while longer? We’re about to blow, and we want to try that mouth too.”

“No, no. I don’t go around sucking off strangers, that was an exception,” I replied.

“Are you sure? Just a little, so you finish what you started properly. With your hand if you want, but give us something.”

I looked at them. Both cocks sticking out of their pants, purple and dripping, pointed at my face. The truth is I wanted to; my cunt was throbbing inside the bikini, but I didn’t want to throw all my pride away completely.

“I’ll give you a handjob if you want, but nothing else,” I said firmly.

They came up to the sofa and stood one on each side, with their crotches at my face level. I dropped my bag, grabbed a cock with each hand and let myself go, with a serious expression, just wanting to finish. They were hot, thick, each one different: the one on the right shorter but bulky, the one on the left long and curved upward. I started jerking them at the same time, squeezing the foreskin against the glans on each upward stroke. The funny thing was that with my left hand I couldn’t get the rhythm right at all, I kept going out of sync.

“Sorry...” I said, embarrassed.

“Relax. Want to do them one by one?”

And then it hit me: one with my mouth, the other with my right hand, and everyone happy. I didn’t warn them; I just turned my head toward the one on the left and took his cock all at once, swallowing it until the tip touched my uvula. I wasn’t gentle, I wanted to finish fast: I pulled it all the way out, let spit drip over it, and shoved it back down my throat, while I worked the other one with my hand, wet with my own saliva. Both of them were moaning as they watched me, and the third, stretched out on the sofa, had gone hard again and was jerking himself off once more, smiling.

“Didn’t want to, huh?” one mocked.

“I didn’t want to,” I shot back, pausing for a second with the other guy’s cock brushing my lips.

“Shows, shows. Look at you, with two cocks in your hands and your tits out.”

It was true. At some point the bikini top had slipped down and my tits were hanging free, bouncing with the head movements. I changed it up: I let go of the one on the left and took the other into my mouth, sucking him deep, letting him thrust to the rhythm he wanted. I felt his balls bump my chin and a drop of pre-cum burst on my tongue. I spent a long while alternating, switching cocks every minute so neither of them cooled off, no longer paying attention to my surroundings. The only thing that pulled me out of it was Noa, on the other side of the wall, having one of her orgasms: the screams were award-winning, a “I’m comiiiiing, I’m coming, don’t stop, come inside, come inside” that made my cunt tighten against the bikini panties. I turned my head toward the door, and one of them gently took me by the chin and claimed me again. I was holding myself back so I didn’t seem too turned on, to keep some dignity, though by then there wasn’t much left of it: I was in a thong, kneeling, tits out, and two cocks taking turns in my mouth.

One of them started making faces: he was close. I focused on him, sucking just the tip with quick pulls while I worked the shaft at a good pace with my hand. It took less than a minute. He yanked away, took over himself with two hard strokes and shot the first rope between my tits, then another two in my face, one brushing my lip and another crossing from my nose to my cheek. I stayed still, eyes closed, taking the finish with my mouth slightly open and my tongue out. When I opened my eyes the other one was already pressed to my lips, and he slipped into my mouth without warning. He lasted three thrusts: I pulled him out just in time for the semen to spill onto my tongue, a thick, dense stream with a bitter aftertaste that made me swallow without thinking so I wouldn’t puke. He smeared the rest over me, leaving threads hanging from my chin down to my chest. When I finished, my face was a complete mess, dripping with three different guys’ cum, and still I was absurdly proud of having pulled it off.

I went to the bathroom, cleaned the cum off my face, neck, cleavage, and tits with warm water, and looked at myself in the mirror with a strange mix of shame and pride. My lips were swollen, my mascara was smudged, I had a small bruise on my knee from being on it so long, and my bikini was soaked underneath. I slipped my hand under my panties and felt my cunt dripping, slippery, with my clit throbbing. I made a couple of quick circles, holding my breath so I wouldn’t make a sound, and came in less than a minute, biting my lip, leaning over the sink. From there I heard Noa come out of the bedroom, laughing with the ones left in the living room. When I went back out there were complicit looks, but nobody judged me. It was almost six; the guys were catching the bus in a minute.

We sent them the location of the stop because, honestly, I didn’t feel like accompanying them. We said goodbye with two kisses, in the most respectful way possible, as if nothing had happened. To this day I know nothing about them. I only still have Daniela’s number, and I don’t know if she ever found out how loose her friend and I were that morning.