My College Classmate Kissed Me in Front of Everyone

It was Friday, and the gathering got started as usual, at Mariana’s apartment, three blocks from the teaching hospital. We third-year medical students had been stuck in the same routine for months: five days of shifts, anatomy, and midterms, then early Saturday mornings in an apartment packed with people trying to forget that Monday meant starting all over again.

There were ten of us that night. Mariana always hosted well; she knew what music to put on and how to pace the alcohol so the party wouldn’t fizzle out at two in the morning. She lived alone in the apartment her aunt Renata had left her when she moved to Córdoba, which made the place the unofficial headquarters of our group.

I was wearing black jeans and a white blouse that turned slightly sheer in the indirect light from the lamps. I hadn’t gone out planning to pick anyone up. I wanted to drink, laugh, and forget about the endless list of diseases I had to review for Monday.

By around one in the morning, we were all well past our limits. We’d drunk more fernet than any healthy liver would recommend, and someone had produced some pills that were being passed from hand to hand. I passed mine to Tobías, the skinny guy with curly hair who slept at my table in the library; I had no desire to mix anything besides alcohol.

“This is so boring,” Camila said, reclining on the sofa with her legs across her boyfriend’s knees. “Let’s do something.”

“Truth or dare,” Esteban suggested, and everyone complained about how cliché it was, but nobody said no.

We started in a circle, sitting on the wooden floor. The first few rounds were lukewarm: drunken confessions, stories from first year, and someone having to sing the national anthem with an apple in their mouth. Then, as always happened, the questions got heavier.

By the third round, four of us were down to our underwear. Not me yet, because I’d gotten away with two truths. I knew how to handle myself: I answered honestly enough to be juicy, so they wouldn’t make me take anything off, but not so honestly that I’d regret it the next day.

Mariana was sitting across from me, right on the other side of the circle. Her back was against the sofa, her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. She was wearing a short wine-colored dress and a delicate necklace that disappeared into her cleavage. Every time she laughed, she threw her head back and her long neck stood out.

I tried not to look at her too much. I’d known her for three years, and I had never stopped thinking she was the most beautiful woman in the entire faculty. Dark-skinned, honey-colored eyes, a smile that revealed two dimples whenever she laughed hard. Until that night, that attraction had been a silent thing, filed away in some internal folder where I kept the things I knew I’d never use.

“Your turn,” Camila said, pointing the empty bottle at me. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth,” I answered without thinking.

Camila tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled maliciously.

“Have you ever been with a woman?”

The circle fell silent. I felt the eyes of all nine of them fixed on me. Mariana was the only one who didn’t look directly at me; she kept staring at the glass between her hands.

“Yes,” I replied.

There was mocking applause and a couple of whistles. Esteban laughed loudly. Tobías looked at me with the curiosity of someone who had just discovered a new fact and didn’t know where to file it.

“And what does it feel like?” Mariana asked, and only then did she look up.

It wasn’t part of the game. She had no right to ask me anything outside her turn. But she said it quietly, almost to herself, and nobody objected.

I looked at her. She had a particular way of asking questions, as if the answer genuinely mattered to her. I drew a breath.

“If you want to know what it feels like, you’ll have to try it yourself,” I said.

I let it out without thinking, my tongue loosened by the fernet and the long night. The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. It was too much. A shameless advance in front of everyone, and I wasn’t that kind of girl.

Mariana held my gaze for a second longer than she should have. Then she set her glass on the floor, slowly, almost deliberately. She stood up.

“Okay,” she said.

She walked the three steps separating us. I was still sitting with my back against the wall, my legs stretched out. She positioned herself over me, one knee on either side of my hips, and sat astride me. I felt the heat of her pussy through the fabric of her dress, pressed right against mine, and all the blood rushed straight to my crotch.

The entire circle made a sound that was half astonishment and half nervous laughter. Someone said, “I can’t believe this.” I couldn’t hear properly. The only things registering were Mariana’s weight on my thighs, the wine on her breath against my mouth, and the scent of her perfume, something sweet with a woody undertone.

She kissed me.

It wasn’t a playful kiss. It wasn’t a party kiss. It was a slow kiss, her warm tongue searching for mine inside my mouth, one of her hands at the nape of my neck, pulling my hair from the roots, while the other lay spread over my left breast, squeezing through my blouse until my nipple hardened and showed through the fabric. I felt my eyes close without asking permission. She barely moved her hips once, rubbing herself against me, and I realized her panties had grown wet because the heat came through everything. When she pulled away, her lips were a little redder, her breathing ragged, and a bead of saliva glistened at the corner of her mouth.

“Well?” she asked, without getting off my legs.

“We’ll have to try some more,” I replied.

I don’t know where the voice came from. She laughed soundlessly, with her shoulders, and stood up. She offered me her hand. I took it without looking at the others.

We walked down the hall to her bedroom. Behind us, there was a commotion that was half celebration and half surprise. Tobías shouted something I couldn’t make out. Mariana closed the door with her foot without letting go of my hand.

***

Her room was the tidiest in the apartment. It had a double bed with a gray comforter, one wall covered with medical books mixed in with novels, and a floor lamp in the corner casting a low, warm light.

“Wait,” she said. “Before we go on... is everything okay?”

I looked at her. Her eyes were bright, but her voice was steady. She was that Mariana from oral exams, the one who knew exactly what to answer and how.

“Everything’s okay,” I said. “What about you?”

“I’ve never...” she began. “But I’ve been looking at you for a long time. A very long time. Every time you wear that white blouse, I turn into an idiot. I can’t study.”

That confession shook me more than the kiss. I’d spent years fantasizing about her, and it had never occurred to me that she might feel the same way.

I hugged her. For a moment it wasn’t erotic; it was something else, a kind of relief. Then I kissed her again, more slowly, biting her lower lip, sucking it until it swelled, while I began unfastening the back of her dress. The zipper came down slowly, tooth by tooth, and the fabric slid over her shoulders until it fell around her feet. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

She had large, round breasts, heavier than they looked beneath her clothes, her skin a lighter shade where the summer sun hadn’t reached it. Her nipples had hardened, dark and pointing slightly upward. In the middle, right between them, she had a small tattoo: an oak leaf drawn in black ink.

“What’s it for?” I asked.

“Long story,” she said, and grabbed my face with both hands so I would stop looking at the drawing and look at her again.

I took one whole breast in my hand and squeezed it. She let out a sigh that was more a moan, arching her back slightly to push more flesh into my palm. I lowered my mouth and took an entire nipple inside, sucking hard and teasing it with my tongue against my palate. Then I grazed it with my teeth, just barely, and she dug her nails into my shoulders. I moved to the other and did the same, more slowly, tracing circles with the tip of my tongue around the areola before sucking it all the way into my mouth.

“Goddamn,” she murmured. “Take your blouse off too.”

I yanked it off, then unclasped my bra without stopping our kiss. When my breasts pressed against hers, skin to skin, nipple to nipple, both bodies shuddered at once with the same thrill. She pulled me against her chest, burying my face between her breasts, and I bit her at the base of her neck while running my hands down her back to the elastic of her panties.

I gently pushed her back against the bed. She sat on the edge, and I knelt on the floor. I started at her neck, moving my mouth down over her collarbone and sternum, leaving red marks with my teeth along the way until I reached her breasts again. I ran my tongue around one nipple and then bit it very slowly. She let out a short sigh, almost a whimper.

I kept going down. The skin of her stomach smelled like vanilla cream. I kissed the sides of her ribs, her navel, the hip bone. When I reached the edge of her panties, I looked up. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back, her hands gripping the edge of the comforter, her knuckles white.

“Can I?” I asked.

“Please,” she said.

I pulled down her last garment with my teeth and removed it with my hands. She was completely shaved. I spent a second looking, my face only inches from her pussy, listening to her breathing quicken just from the pause. The lips of her cunt were already glistening, swollen and barely parting, wet from before I touched her. The scent hit me hard, hot woman, sweet and sour at once, and I felt my mouth fill with saliva from sheer desire.

“You’re soaked,” I told her, blowing over her.

“Shut up and eat me already,” she replied, grabbing me by the nape and pulling me closer.

I touched her with my fingers first, slowly. I ran my middle finger up and down, opening her lips, feeling her juices run down to her ass. She was wet, so wet, and that turned me on more than anything else; I could feel that my own panties were already a mess. I ran my tongue from bottom to top, once, slowly, gathering all her wetness from the entrance to the clitoris, and felt her whole body shudder. She tasted salty, slightly bitter, with a sweet undertone that clung to my mouth. Then I began to play.

I made small circles around her clitoris with the tip of my tongue, without quite touching it. I let her ask for it. When she began breathing harder and moving her hips in search of me, I lowered to her entrance, thrust my tongue inside as far as I could, pulled it out, and pushed it back in as I would have fucked her with a cock if I’d had one, then moved back up without ever touching the place she wanted. That torture drew hoarse moans from her, muffled against her own hand because she had covered her mouth to keep from screaming.

“Don’t cover yourself,” I told her, lifting my head for a moment. “The music covers everyone else. I want to hear you.”

She obeyed. She lowered her hand and let the moans come out unfiltered. One long, deep one when I sucked the lips of her cunt one by one, first the right and then the left, lapping at them as if they were fruit. Another, higher-pitched one when I ran the tip of my tongue between her cunt and her ass and lingered there for a second, testing how much she was willing to let go. She thrust her hips forward, and I took note.

I moved back up. This time I went straight to her clitoris, my tongue flat, pressing with a steady, broad, wet rhythm. I slipped two fingers inside her. It was a little difficult at first; she was very tight, tense from the strain. I felt her open around my knuckles, swallowing both fingers all the way in, and then she began riding my hand on her own, moving her pelvis as if she were fucking me.

“More,” she begged. “Deeper, come on, don’t be mean.”

I added a third finger. She was hot inside, tight around my fingers, slippery, and every time I curled my hand upward, searching for her spot against the front wall, I felt her whole body tense and her back arch. My tongue kept licking her clitoris harder above, my fingers going in and out with a wet sound that could be heard clearly over the music, while her free hand gripped my hair and pushed me against her cunt. The room smelled of perfume, sweat, and something else, something sweet and salty at once, a thick smell of sex that lingered in your nose.

“Like that, like that, like that,” she kept repeating, her voice growing more broken. “My God, don’t stop, eat my pussy, don’t stop.”

I didn’t stop. I sucked her entire clitoris, wrapping my lips around it, and created suction while I kept thrusting my fingers all the way inside her. I found a rough spot inside, slightly swollen, and stayed there, touching it with my fingertips in a come-here motion, without stopping my sucking above.

When she came, she did it with a cry she had no way of hiding. Her thighs closed around my head, crushing my ears, her entire back arched, lifting her ass off the bed, and I felt her cunt clench in spasms around my fingers, once, twice, again, while a hot gush wet my wrist and chin. I kept going, slowly, with soft licks, until the contractions eased and she collapsed, spent, onto the mattress.

“Come here,” she said in a thread of a voice. “Come on, get up here.”

I did as she asked. I climbed onto the bed, and she grabbed my hips and finished pulling off my jeans and panties, which were already halfway off. She arranged me on my back, moved to my side, and slipped her hand between my legs before I could say anything. Her face lit up when she felt how soaked I was.

“Look at you,” she murmured against my ear, running two fingers between the lips of my cunt. “You’re dripping from eating me out.”

“Shut up,” I told her, but a moan escaped me and contradicted me.

She began touching me with a slowness that was almost cruel. She ran her fingers around my clitoris without touching it, barely slipped them into my entrance, then pulled them out shining. She kissed my neck and my ear, bit my earlobe. I spread my legs wider and grabbed her wrist to make her go faster.

“Put them inside me,” I begged. “Put them inside me now, don’t make me wait.”

She pushed two fingers in at once, all the way, and I raised my hips to take them. She started slowly, but quickly understood the rhythm I needed and began fucking me with her hand for real, thrusting in and out hard while pressing her thumb against my clitoris in circles. I gripped the headboard with both hands and let myself go. I could feel her full weight beside me, her breast pressed against my arm, breathing in my face.

“I love how you feel inside,” she whispered. “You’re hot, you’re so tight. I want to watch you come.”

I didn’t last long. After holding myself back for so long while eating her, my orgasm rose quickly from my feet and shook my whole body. I screamed against her shoulder, sank my teeth into the muscle, and felt myself clench around her fingers again and again, sucking them inward. She didn’t pull them out until I lay still, and when she finally did, she lifted them to her mouth and sucked them one by one while looking into my eyes.

“You’re going to pay for making me wait three years,” she said, then kissed me and made me taste my own flavor on her tongue.

I let myself fall beside her on the bed. I was sweaty, my hair stuck to my forehead, and she wore a smile I had never seen before. She brushed my bangs aside with the backs of her fingers.

“Tell me it wasn’t the fernet’s idea,” she murmured.

“It wasn’t the fernet’s idea,” I said.

We stayed like that for a while, holding each other without speaking. After that, I don’t remember exactly when we fell asleep. The music outside gradually faded, the voices grew quieter, and someone closed the front door when they left.

***

I woke with the sun coming through the gap in the blinds. Mariana was still asleep against my shoulder, her arm draped across my waist. The bedroom door opened without ceremony.

It was Renata, Mariana’s aunt, who had evidently come to look for something and hadn’t expected to find us. She stood in the doorway, staring at the scene: two naked girls half-covered by the sheet, clothes scattered across the floor, an empty bottle of water on the nightstand.

I wanted to die. I tugged Mariana’s arm, and she opened her eyes slowly.

Renata raised her eyebrows, looked at her niece, and laughed. A short, amused laugh, without a trace of judgment.

“How was your night, sweetheart?” she asked, looking at Mariana.

Mariana sat up in bed, covering herself with the sheet. She was flushed, but not embarrassed.

“The best night of my life, Auntie,” she replied, and slipped a hand beneath the sheets to squeeze mine.

Renata laughed harder, closed the door, and I heard her walking away down the hall. I could hear her humming something in the kitchen.

It’s Saturday again today. Mariana texted me an hour ago, asking what time I’m coming over. There’s another gathering. I’ve been staring at the screen for two hours, thinking that nighttime is still much too far away.