What I Did at the New Year’s Eve Party in Front of Everyone

I signed up at the last minute. One of my university classmates, Lucía, asked me if I wanted to spend New Year’s Eve with her group of friends in a rural house lost in the middle of the countryside, and I said yes before she even finished the sentence. They had everything organized: dinner, drinks for later, and cava flowing by the bucketful to toast the new year. For me, it was convenient. I only had to show up.

I arrived in a foul mood. A modeling job on a runway in Milan had been canceled on me at the last minute, on December 30, and I was left without a plan and without the money I needed to keep supporting myself in Valencia while I studied Architecture. But when life gives you lemons, you make the best of it. That heaven-sent invitation was exactly what I needed not to spend the last night of the year locked in my apartment feeling sorry for myself.

The house had twelve bedrooms and five bathrooms, and there were twenty-two of us. Eleven men and eleven women, all single. Couples were deliberately not allowed, so that no one would feel constrained and we could all be free spirits under a single premise: whatever happened in the house stayed in the house. No one wanted to feel inhibited by what the others might say when we went back to the city. It was a party to enjoy, with no explanations owed.

From the first moment I saw Bruno, I was smitten. First by his body: almost six foot three, athletic, blond with long hair and green eyes you didn’t know where to look for. But when I heard him talk and laugh, I decided I would hook up with him at the first opportunity. It was true love at first sight. Just imagining the things I’d like to do to him was enough to make my underwear damp.

The kitchen was huge, so we laid the catering food out on the central island and left the drinks in the garden, because it was freezing cold. At eight o’clock not everyone had arrived yet, so we poured ourselves some drinks to pass the time and put on music. At nine, the women went upstairs to change out of our casual clothes into evening wear.

For the occasion I had bought myself a black dress covered in sequins, one of those now called sparkly sparkly. The skirt was very short and, from the waistband at the front, two strips of fabric came out, narrowing until they tied at the neck, leaving a neckline open almost to the navel and the whole back bare. I finished it off with my mother’s pearl necklace and twelve-centimeter stiletto heels that, when I walked, made the sway of my hips impossible to miss. Unfortunately, only some of the boys bothered to change.

Not everyone understands what it means to dress for a party, especially among friends. But when I saw Bruno appear in a black suit with velvet lapels, a white shirt with cufflinks, and a light blue polka-dot tie, I had to steady myself mentally not to lose my composure. If I had thought he was handsome before, now he was so irresistible that I knew I would have competition that night.

By eleven we had already eaten dinner and had the grapes and cava ready. No French champagne: we’re in Spain, and we have cavas that can compete with any sparkling wine in the world. To kill time we poured another round of drinks and went back to the table to wait for midnight. With five minutes to go, we uncorked the bottles and filled our glasses to toast as soon as the last grape fell.

With the final chime we all burst out shouting “Happy New Year” and started kissing and congratulating one another. Once the initial euphoria passed, someone suggested that each of us say what we were wishing for in the year ahead. Almost everyone said the predictable things: career success, health for their loved ones, winning the lottery to finally pay off the mortgage.

When Bruno’s turn came, he stood up with fake solemnity and said that the year would go on like all the previous ones, but that what he wanted most was to start it with a good blowjob, if any girl was up for it, and he promised to return the favor in the same way. We all fell a little silent. And then, without fully realizing what I was doing, I stood up from my chair with my hand in the air and said I’d be delighted to grant his wish.

When the others reacted, they started shouting for us to do it right there, in front of everyone, so they could assess the quality of the work.

Bruno left his seat and came over to me. He offered me his arm with old-fashioned gallantry, and I took it to get up. He looked me in the eyes.

—First things first, I have to wish you a happy new year properly —he said.

And with that he kissed me on the lips with such force that I took the chance to open my mouth and search for his tongue with mine. We kissed so intensely it took my breath away, and once again the table broke into applause.

We pulled apart and stood beside the fireplace. He looked at me and, in a low voice, asked if I was really willing to do it in front of everyone. I nodded. What did it matter. It was a special night and, deep down, we all knew that each person would end up with whoever they could and wherever they could. Bruno leaned against the edge of a table and unzipped his fly, pulling out his already half-erect cock for what was coming.

***

I hiked my skirt up just enough to be able to crouch with my legs apart, fully aware that it left my little thong, the only underwear I was wearing, on display. I took his cock in my hands and slowly ran my tongue over the head so everyone could see. They applauded again. I took him into my mouth and started moving my head back and forth while stroking him with my other hand, until my enthusiasm threatened to end the show too soon and he gently pulled me away.

He pulled my skirt all the way up to my waist and tugged my thong down to my ankles. I lifted one foot and then the other so he could finish taking it off. He grabbed me under the arms and sat me on the edge of the table. He spread my thighs apart and, under the eager gaze of some and the disbelief of others, buried his face between my legs and started licking.

He brought me to orgasm in two minutes. I had been so aroused all night, wanting exactly that, that my body offered barely any resistance. He stayed down there until I came a second time, and only then did he straighten up.

Without saying a word, he placed the head of his cock at my entrance. He looked into my eyes, seeking one last confirmation, and I nodded. I knew perfectly well how wet I was; he had just checked with his mouth. He thrust his hips forward and entered me in one go. He pulled out, went back in, again and again, until he lost control and started pounding without pause. When he was about to finish, he pulled out and came on my stomach. The uproar and the applause were immediate.

He asked for a napkin to clean me off and, to top it off, ran his tongue over the place he had just wiped clean. He helped me stand, kissed me, found two glasses of cava, and we toasted. To our first fuck, the first of the year, and the first of the night.

***

We had set the real party in motion. The music started blasting and we began to dance. Half an hour later they put on ballads so anyone who wanted to dance close could relax. Bruno came to get me, took my hand, and pulled me along. We melted into an embrace and moved slowly to the rhythm of the song.

A little later we slipped off to a bedroom to do it again, this time with no audience and on a bed. He made me come twice before he finished, and this time he came inside, because I asked him to. When it was over he gave me a quick kiss and promised that as soon as he recovered we’d start all over again.

By six in the morning we’d done it four times and decided to sleep together. We got into the shower in one of the bathrooms and, when we came out, he slung me over his shoulder like a sack and carried me to the room. He literally threw me onto the bed, and lay down beside me. We ended up tangled together one last time before exhaustion beat us. His taste was the last thing I tasted that night.

Dawn had already broken when I felt a hand trailing across my stomach. I jolted, because for a second I couldn’t remember where I was or who I’d slept with. I put my hand over his and opened my eyes. I found his bare chest and his green eyes staring straight at me. He leaned down, kissed me on the lips, and wished me good morning.

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him toward me. I kissed him slowly, first sucking on his lips and then parting them to slip my tongue in unhurriedly. We stayed like that for a good while, in that lazy game, until I lowered my hand to look for him and found him waking up. It didn’t take much to finish rousing him.

He positioned himself on top of me. At first he went in only with the tip and slid back out. On the next thrust he went in halfway and repeated the maneuver. On the third he sank in completely and started moving for real, but slowly, lengthening each thrust to the hilt and withdrawing slowly while kissing me. I was finishing a long orgasm when I felt his heat inside me and that sent me straight into another. He stayed inside me until nature did its work.

We took two towels from the closet and went into the bathroom. We got into the shower and, when he offered to soap me up, I already knew he’d end up making me come again. He ran his soapy hand between my legs and fingered me slowly, until he made me see stars. I slid down, took him with both hands, and returned the favor with the same calm. It was incredible that, after so little time, he still had enough strength left.

***

While we were dressing he asked me if I had any plans for the following days. I told him we were on break from the faculty until after Epiphany. His answer was to tell me to pack my things, that we were going to San Sebastián for a few days. Of course I was thrilled, but I only had the clothes I was wearing and the party dress from the night before.

—That’s not a problem —he said—. You look gorgeous like that, and you can make do until tomorrow. We’ll buy something there.

He picked up my clutch, kissed me, and said it was time to go. We were heading to his parents’ place, right in the old town, facing the beach. I pointed out that we barely knew each other beyond the half dozen times we’d had sex in the last few hours, and that it seemed too soon to show up at his family’s house.

—They’ll have to meet you before the wedding sometime, I should think —he shot back, perfectly calm.

—And who said I’m going to marry you? —I replied.

—I did. I’ve just decided.

We spent a few days with his parents, and he introduced me as his girlfriend, warning them to get used to seeing me because we were getting married soon. We spent more time in bed than getting to know the city. His mother even asked us to be more discreet at night, because they kept hearing noises through the partition wall. Bruno replied, dead serious, that I was in my fertile days and we were taking advantage of it to make her a grandmother. It took me a long time to stop laughing.

We went back home and two weeks later we were already living together. Six months after that, we got married. That New Year’s Eve was almost ten years ago now. Today we have two beautiful girls and a baby boy on the way. And every New Year’s Eve, when I raise my glass of cava, I know exactly what I’m toasting.