What I Do on the Nights I Say I’m Studying

I’m twenty-four years old and, to my family, I’m the diligent daughter who’s finishing her Economics degree and goes to bed early. That version of me exists, of course. But there’s another one that only appears after I close my bedroom door, and no one knows a thing about her.

It started two years ago, almost by chance, and ever since then I haven’t been able to stop. I don’t want to, really. I’m telling it now because I need to get it out somewhere, even if it’s anonymously, somewhere no one can put my face to it.

That particular night I had made plans for nine. I’d taken a long, unhurried shower, shaving every inch of skin under the hot water while I went over my alibi in my head. I ran the razor over my cunt until it was completely smooth, then worked my soapy fingers between my lips, checking that not a single hair was left. I took advantage of how slippery I was to slide two fingers inside and give myself a quick treat, braced against the tiles, imagining what was waiting for me. I didn’t let myself come; I wanted to save my hunger for later. When I got out of the bathroom, my hair was still damp and my nipples were hard, so I checked the time on my phone and hurried. Being late felt disrespectful to me.

“Mom, I’m leaving. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon,” I said, poking my head into the kitchen.

“Tomorrow afternoon?” she asked without turning around, stirring something in a pot.

“I told you, I’m going to Carla’s to finish the Macroeconomics assignment. We’re staying over and carrying on in the morning.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. I don’t know how you put up with that girl for so many hours.”

If only she knew how little I study on those nights. If only she knew how many cocks I suck before dawn.

“Carla’s a brainiac, Mom. I’m sure to pass with her. Give Dad a kiss when he gets in.”

I shut the door behind me and went downstairs two at a time, smiling. Carla was the perfect cover. Shy, quiet, with no friends who would ever cross paths with mine. She’d never tell anyone, because she didn’t even know I was using her as a front. My mother despised her family, so she’d never call to check. I had free rein.

***

I didn’t go out onto the street. In the entryway I opened the door to the underground garage and went down to the storage room my parents kept full of old furniture and boxes no one would ever open again. That room was my secret changing space. I had dragged a huge wall mirror in there, older than I was, and kept my other clothes in a rusty toolbox no one would ever touch.

I locked the bolt, stripped, and looked at myself in the mirror. On my hip I had a small tattoo my parents didn’t know about, done in secret by an acquaintance who also didn’t ask questions. I brushed it with my finger like a lucky charm. I pinched my nipples in front of the reflection until they stood up hard, spread my legs, and looked at my shaved cunt, already shining with how turned on I was. I slid one finger in, then two, and licked my lips as I pulled them out soaked. I was ready.

The clothes I took from the box had nothing to do with what my mother had just seen. A short, tight black dress, fishnet stockings, heels I only wore on these nights. No panties; I never wore any to these meetups. I put on my makeup calmly in front of the mirror, turning myself into the other one. By the time I finished, there wasn’t a trace left of the dutiful student. The woman in the reflection was a dirty little slut aching for it, and I liked what I saw.

The phone vibrated. A message in three words: “We’re downstairs, come down.” I slung my backpack over my shoulder, turned off the light, and left.

Just a few meters from the doorway, a rather battered gray van was waiting for me. The side door opened before I got there. I climbed in without hesitation and shut it behind me.

“I thought you were going to back out again,” Marina said from the back, sitting among bags and boxes of merchandise.

Marina was my age, more or less, though I’d never asked. We’d met at one of these meetups and, without being friends, we shared the same secret and the same cravings. Each of us knew things about the other that no one else ever would.

“Me, back out?” I said, laughing as I sat down beside her. “Not a chance. I’ve been wet since I left home.”

“Me too,” she whispered, and took my hand to bring it between her legs. Under her skirt there was nothing either, just a hot, slippery cunt that pressed against my fingers. We looked at each other and laughed softly.

Diego was at the wheel, and beside him, turned toward us with a smile, was Iván. I knew them both. Iván was the one who organized almost everything: he decided where, when, and who.

“Far tonight?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” was all Iván said, in the tone of someone who’s prepared a surprise.

***

The ride wasn’t long. The van stopped in an industrial estate, in front of a warehouse in a never-ending row of identical storage units. Marina and I exchanged a look. It wasn’t the usual place. Normally we met in borrowed apartments, never somewhere like this.

“Easy,” Iván said, opening the side door. “This place belongs to a friend. No one’s going to bother us tonight.”

We got down in our heels and crossed the parking lot under a flickering streetlamp. I wasn’t nervous about the place or the dark. I was excited to know how many cocks were going to fuck me inside that warehouse.

Iván groped for the switch. When the lights came on, a huge warehouse appeared before us, full of shelves with boxes and cheap market clothes. And off to one side, on a couple of battered sofas, half a dozen men were waiting for us.

I knew almost all of them from previous meetups. The others were new faces. Every one of them looked at me with the same mix of hunger and amusement, and my mouth went dry just thinking about the amount of cum that was going to end up dripping down my face and ass that night.

“I told you they were worth it,” Iván said to the others, gently steering us forward.

Marina didn’t wait for anyone to give the order. She went over to the first man within reach, knelt down, unzipped him, and pulled out his cock with both hands. She took it into her mouth to the throat on the first go, looking up at him from below. I did the same with the nearest one, a big guy with huge hands who grabbed my waist and yanked me onto his lap. I felt his hard bulge against my bare ass, because the dress had ridden up in the maneuver, and he let out a rough laugh when he realized I wasn’t wearing panties.

“Look what the girl brought,” he murmured, and shoved three fingers into me from behind in one go. I opened wider, bracing my hands on his knees so he could get deeper.

There were no long preliminaries. That was the point. No one pretended it was dinner or conversation. Everyone knew exactly why they’d come, and that made it honest. This wasn’t making love. This was fucking.

I got down from his lap and knelt on the floor between his legs, while Marina did the same a meter away. I undid his belt, tugged down his pants and boxers in one pull, and his cock sprang up thick and veined against my chin. I took it by the base, spat on it, and started sucking it slowly, first just the head, licking it like candy, then going down until I took it all the way in, until I felt his balls against my nose. He growled and grabbed my hair, setting the rhythm.

“Fuck, that slut sucks cock so well,” he said.

I spit on his cock and worked it up and down with my hand while I looked him in the eyes, enjoying the way his breathing kept breaking. Beside me, another hand moved my hair out of my face so not a detail would be missed. It wasn’t long before I felt several of them coming closer, surrounding us, taking out their cocks, claiming their turn. The tips began brushing my lips and I moved from one to another, sucking them, spitting on them, swallowing them until I choked. Drool ran down my chin, my makeup smeared, and I didn’t care. The dirtier, the better.

“This one never gets tired,” one of them muttered, and the words turned me on more than any caress.

Marina, beside me, had two cocks in her mouth at once, her tongue between the two of them, sucking both heads like she was eating an ice cream. We looked at each other and winked between moan after moan.

***

What came after was a nonstop carousel. I went from one to another without really knowing who I was servicing at any given moment, and I didn’t care. I loved that feeling of losing control, of being the center of everything and of nothing at the same time, of feeling like a hole for them to cum inside. Marina, a couple of steps away, moaned with the same devotion I did.

They put me on all fours on one of the sofas. Someone yanked my dress up from the top and my tits were left hanging, swaying with every thrust that still hadn’t come. I felt hands spreading my legs, and soon I felt my cunt being filled from behind, slowly at first, then hard, until the whole cock slid in with a jolt and tore a cry from me. I closed my eyes and let myself go. Another man stood in front of my face and I opened my mouth without being asked, taking his cock deep, letting him fuck my throat at the same rhythm as the man behind me fucked my cunt. I was trapped between the two of them, rocked from side to side like a doll, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so alive.

“Like that, don’t stop,” I panted when they pulled the cock out of my mouth to let me breathe, not knowing which of them I was saying it to. I didn’t care. All of them.

The one pounding me from behind found a rhythm that made my knees shake. Every thrust tore a moan from me that I didn’t even try to hide. He was slapping my ass between thrusts until my skin was burning and wetness was running down the insides of my thighs. In the empty warehouse, my gasps and Marina’s echoed off the metal walls, mixed with the laughter and comments of the men waiting their turn, jerking themselves off with their hands while they licked their lips.

“I’m about to cum,” the one behind me warned, and I clenched my ass to milk him. He felt himself swelling inside me and unleashed the first rope into my cunt, then pulled out and finished cumming in thick spurts over my ass cheeks and back. I felt the warm semen sliding down to my asshole, and barely had he finished when another took his place and shoved his cock into me without warning, slick from the previous man’s load.

When they asked for more, I gave more. I like that part of me, the one that only shows up here, the one that owes no one any explanations. I went from the sofa to the floor, from the floor to a set of knees, with no clear order, just following the hands that claimed me. They rode me like a horse on one cock while my tits were being sucked and I sucked another standing in front of me. They laid me flat on my back on a table and spread my legs to fuck me while two of them pinched my nipples between their fingers. One asked for my ass and I nodded without thinking; he spit between my cheeks, smeared me up well, and eased into me slowly until he was all the way in. I screamed with pleasure and sting at once, biting my lip so I wouldn’t scream louder.

“What a tight little cunt the bitch has,” he said, giving me another slap.

At some point Marina and I ended up next to each other, sharing the same breath, and we kissed between laughs with our mouths full of someone else’s cum, mixing it with our tongues, before each of us went back to our own thing. They made us go double, ass to ass, and two men rode us at the same time while the other cocks kept passing across our faces.

I lost count of how many times I came. The first one caught me almost by surprise, with one man’s tongue lapping my clit in quick strokes while another fucked me, and a scream ripped out of me from somewhere deep inside, echoing through the warehouse. The next ones came in waves, one after another, each new cock unleashing another orgasm, until my legs went weak, my cunt swollen, and my skin burning. I also lost count of how many loads I took: in my cunt, in my ass, in my mouth, on my tits, in my face, in my hair. I swallowed some of them and let others drip, laughing, smearing myself with my fingers like it was cream.

***

The party gradually lost intensity. Some left earlier; they had to get up early, they said, and once they’d had their fill there wasn’t much left to keep them there. Iván, Diego, and a couple of others stayed with us.

They let us rest for a while. They brought out something to eat and drink, lit a cigarette that went from hand to hand. Marina and I sat on one of the sofas, exhausted, sweaty, our legs stained and the semen drying on our skin, smiling like two girls who’ve pulled off some huge prank.

“Next week?” Iván asked, handing me a bottle of water.

“If you give me enough warning, yes,” I replied, drinking in long swallows. “I have to invent the excuse.”

“You always do,” Marina said, and we both laughed.

The night was still young, and by the way Diego was looking at me from the other sofa, his cock already hardening again under his trousers, I knew there was still fun ahead. I finished the water, set the bottle on the floor, and stood up. I crossed the warehouse to him, knelt between his legs, and unzipped him with my teeth, looking up at him from below. He smiled and stroked my cheek before gripping my nape and shoving his cock down my throat again.

At two in the afternoon the next day I would go home looking as if I’d studied a lot. I’d tell my mother the assignment had turned out great, that Carla was lovely, that I was exhausted from all the revision. And she would believe me, as always, never suspecting that her daughter was coming home with her cunt and ass sore from a fucking beating and with traces of semen still under her nails.

That’s my double life. The perfect daughter by day, an insatiable slut by night. I’m not ashamed. The only thing that saddens me is not being able to tell anyone who truly knows me. That’s why I’m writing it here, where I can be, for once, completely honest.