Mateo Dragged Me Into the Club’s Dark Room
We’d finished each other off in the hallway, wrecked against the cold tiles, with people coming and going from the bathroom as if we were part of the decor. Mateo had emptied himself into my mouth in front of everyone, shamelessly, gripping the nape of my neck so I wouldn’t pull away. And even so, when he wiped my face with his own towel, I knew neither of us was done.
We were sweaty, trembling, covered in saliva and in what the other had left behind. But we caught each other’s eye and that look said everything. We wanted more. More darkness, more anonymity, more of that filth you only allow when no one can put a name to you.
Mateo grabbed my wrist hard. He brought his mouth to my ear and whispered:
—Come on. Now I’m going to fuck you where no one knows who we are.
I didn’t answer. There was no need. I let him drag me through the bodies in the club to a door with no sign, at the back, beside a black curtain that smelled different from the rest of the place.
***
The Lumina’s dark room is an absolute labyrinth. Rubber flooring that sticks to the soles of your feet, padded walls that swallow the sound, just two tiny red points of light in the farthest corners. The air is thick: lubricant, sweat, the sour smell of sex from those who’d already passed through before us.
We went in and the door shut behind us, devouring the last bit of hallway light. For a second I couldn’t see even my own hand. All you could hear were breaths, muffled moans, bodies crashing against other bodies, and that wet, unmistakable sound of flesh entering flesh and sliding back out again.
Mateo shoved me against one of the padded walls. He lifted my arms over my head and pinned them with one hand, big and hot. With the other he started pinching my nipples, slowly at first, then viciously, until he tore a groan out of me I hadn’t even known was in there.
—Still —he said—. I’m in charge here.
And I wanted him to be in charge.
I felt mouths that weren’t his brushing my thighs. Anonymous hands climbing my hips, feeling around in the blackness, looking for something to hold on to. One of those hands wrapped around me and Mateo swatted it away with a sharp slap.
—He’s mine tonight —he said into the dark, without raising his voice, and it sounded like an order no one dared challenge.
***
He turned me to face the wall. He spread me open with both hands and I felt his tongue again, just like before in the hallway, but now in total darkness it was something else. Long, slow licks, almost cruel in how slowly they came. Then the tongue going in, pushing, sucking hard while I pressed my forehead to the padding and bit my arm so I wouldn’t scream.
Someone knelt in front of me in the dark and took me in their mouth. It lasted barely a second. Mateo patted the stranger on the shoulder and shoved them aside without ceremony.
—Only I touch this tonight —he said.
He lowered me to the floor onto a thin mattress that creaked under our weight. He put me face down, on all fours, and slid underneath me in the opposite direction. His mouth found mine, mine found his, both at once, drowning each other in each other. In that black pit there was nothing left but mouths, tongues, the weight of his body and the taste of salt. We drooled, we were short of breath, we moaned against each other and the moan got trapped between the two of us.
I felt strange fingers probing me from behind while Mateo devoured me from below. He lifted one hand without letting go of my cock and slapped them away, like someone brushing flies off their plate.
***
Suddenly he hauled me up, stood me on my feet, and leaned me back against a leather-covered column. He positioned himself behind me, lifted one leg almost to his shoulder, and entered me in a single thrust, without warning, without mercy.
I couldn’t see anything at all. I could only feel. I felt him going in and out faster and faster, my own moans bouncing off the padded walls and coming back warped. Anonymous hands ran over my chest in the dark, someone licked at me from below, and above it all was Mateo, drilling me against the leather, breathing against my neck.
—Feel it? —he panted—. No one knows it’s you. No one knows it’s me.
—Don’t stop —was the only thing I managed to say.
And he didn’t stop. He held me by the hip with one hand and covered my mouth with the other, not to shut me up, but so I’d breathe against his palm, so the air I was missing would be owed to him. I clawed at the leather of the column, looking for something to hold on to, and found only the darkness and his body behind mine, setting the pace. At some point I stopped knowing where I ended and where he began.
Then he took me to a corner where there was a bench with holes for the head and hands, some kind of wooden pillory with straps. He put me inside and closed the bar over me. My neck and wrists were trapped, my body bent, completely exposed to the dark and to anyone who might want to look, even though no one in there could see a thing.
He stood behind me and started fucking me mercilessly. He grabbed my hair, which stuck out through the hole, and pulled back, using me like I was a doll he had every right to. Every slam of his hips against me rang out like a drum in the room’s silence. I felt unfamiliar fingers searching for my mouth, other bodies brushing my face, but he controlled everything, decided everything.
—Only I finish inside here —he warned the void, and no one contradicted him.
***
He took me out of the pillory when my wrists were already marked. He laid me on my back on a larger mattress, where around us you could make out other bodies moving, other moans, other broken breaths that weren’t ours. And then, in a turn I hadn’t expected, it was he who climbed on top of me.
He sat down slowly, impaling himself on his own, facing away, bracing his hands on my knees. He started moving like a possessed man, up and down, his back arched, all his weight dropping onto me again and again. I could only make out shadows, reddish outlines under the lone distant light, but I felt every centimeter of him, felt his body swallowing me whole, felt his moans mingle with the rest of the room’s.
At some point they surrounded us. Four, five silhouettes standing around the mattress, jerking off over us in the dimness. One finished over my legs, another over my chest, anonymous heat falling onto me from all sides. Mateo then stood up, turned, and came to my ear.
—Now you fuck me —he whispered—. Let them all watch.
***
I put him on all fours. I opened him up in the dark and went in all the way in one shot, ripping a rough cry from him that got lost among the others. I started moving like an animal, gripping first his hips, then his hair, then the nape of his neck, bending him to my will the way he’d bent me.
The bodies around us moaned louder, caught by contagion. Someone finished on Mateo’s back while I drove into him, another over my shoulder. The air was thick, almost unbreathable, heavy with heat and the smell of sex. And the more they watched us—or the more we guessed they were watching us in that blackness—the harder I fucked him, the more he opened for me.
—More —he begged—. Don’t stop, don’t stop.
I did as he asked. I grabbed his shoulders, lifted him a little off the mattress and kept hammering into him standing up, while he held on to my wrists so he wouldn’t lose his balance. The silhouettes moved even closer, a tight circle of fast breathing and hands going back and forth over our skin. We didn’t know how many there were and we didn’t care. In that blackness all that mattered was the weight of his body against mine and the way he opened every time I thrust.
He turned again, fast, and shoved me onto my back against the mattress once more. He climbed on top of me again, this time facing me, though neither of us could see the other. He started bouncing wildly, his hands dug into my chest, my hands sunk into his hips, guiding him up and down in a rhythm neither of us controlled anymore.
—Come inside —he pleaded, voice breaking—. Fill me, Bruno.
***
And I exploded. Long and hot, emptying myself inside him while I held him against me with all my strength. He came almost at the same time, without even touching himself, over my abdomen, his heat mixing with sweat, with what the strangers had left on us, with all that shared chaos.
We stayed like that for a good while. Him on top of me, me still inside, both of us trembling, panting, surrounded by anonymous bodies that kept touching us, licking us, finishing near us as if we were an altar. Mateo leaned down and kissed me with tongue in the absolute dark, sharing the taste of everything that had happened: sweat and desire and the salt of both of us.
We came out of the dark room some forty minutes later, covered in fluids we didn’t know whose they were, our legs shaking, barely able to hold each other up. The hallway light blinded us at once. We blinked, looked at our wrecked faces, hair stuck to our foreheads, and laughed like two madmen who had just lived the filthiest, most intense night of their lives.
That night with Mateo at Lumina was pure loss of control. Total darkness, nameless hands and mouths, dozens of men around us and the two of us at the center of it all, fucking like the world was about to end when the lights came on. Even now, when I remember it, I can still feel that darkness’ heat and Mateo’s voice in my ear telling me that night, whoever the rest might have been, I was his alone.
