Six Men and Me in One Night

Today I’m twenty-seven and I have a fairly orderly life, but there was a time when desire ran me without asking permission. What I’m about to tell you happened a few years ago, when I still believed I was capable of anything as long as I could feel. My name is Mariana, though that night it didn’t matter much what I was called.

It all started at a friend’s birthday party. I’d put on a black dress, tight and shorter than my mother would have tolerated, just so every curve would show. I’m slim, with a sweet face, and I know very well the effect that combination has when I set my mind to it.

The music, the heat, the drinks. As the early hours went by I loosened up and started kissing the guys I danced with. I wasn’t embarrassed. I liked the way they looked at me, that tension building every time one of them pressed me against the hallway wall.

That night I ended up with three of them, one by one, stealing moments in the bathroom while the party went on outside. I went home at dawn, exhausted, but with an idea stuck in my head that wouldn’t let me sleep.

What if I’d had all of them at the same time?

That question haunted me all week. I imagined it while I showered, while riding the bus, while I tried to focus on anything else. What I felt wasn’t guilt. It was curiosity. Hot, impatient curiosity.

The following Saturday I couldn’t take it anymore. I wrote to the three I’d been with and suggested we get together. One of them, Tomás, had the house to himself that weekend. He said he’d invite a couple more friends, “so it’ll be a proper gathering.” I knew perfectly well what that meant, and the idea of not knowing how many I’d end up with only turned me on more.

I put on the most provocative clothes I had and went without a second thought.

***

When I arrived, Tomás and two other guys I knew from the party were already there. But there were also three new faces. Six in all. They introduced me with jokes and looks that didn’t hide a thing, and right away they offered me something to drink.

We talked for a while, laughed, and little by little the conversation started filling with double meanings. I let my knees brush against whoever was beside me, let my hand linger longer than necessary on an arm. The temperature in the living room rose on its own.

One of the newcomers, a tall dark-haired guy they called Bruno, was the first to lose patience. He came closer, brushed my hair out of my face, and kissed me without asking. That was the signal everyone had been waiting for.

Suddenly there were hands all over me. One at my waist, another sliding up my thigh, another pulling my dress strap aside. I didn’t resist; on the contrary, I leaned back into the sofa and enjoyed the feeling of being the absolute center of the room.

—Take it all off —I told them, in a voice rougher than I expected.

They didn’t need to be told twice. In seconds I was on my knees on the floor, surrounded, and I started taking care of them one by one and two by two, unhurried, savoring each man’s urgency. I liked having control even on my knees, deciding whom to give more time to, listening to their breath catch.

While I kept my mouth busy, Tomás moved behind me and started stripping me completely. He stroked me slowly, traced me with his fingers, and every time he found the exact spot I’d let out a moan that seemed to drive them all a little crazier.

—She’s shaking —someone said, amused.

It was true. I was on the edge without anyone having done much to me yet, just from anticipation.

***

I couldn’t hold out much longer. I asked Tomás to stop teasing and finish what he’d started. He did it slowly at first, measuring each movement, until the rhythm became steady and I clutched the edge of the sofa so I wouldn’t lose my balance.

The others didn’t wait patiently for their turn. They moved in, taking turns, and I kept my mouth busy so I’d never be left still. I’d lost track of who was where, and that was exactly what I’d come for.

Bruno, the dark-haired one, was the one who intimidated me most. When his turn came I hesitated for a second, but he calmed me with a caress and entered slowly, giving me time to get used to it. Then he picked up the pace until I stopped thinking. It hurt a little and I liked it at the same time, that strange mix I’d never felt so intensely before.

—Don’t stop —I begged him, though my eyes were full of tears that weren’t from sadness.

At some point I stopped holding back completely. I wanted more; I wanted to feel several of them at once. I sat on one of them and let another settle behind me. The sensation of being taken by two at once tore a cry out of me that I didn’t even recognize as my own.

I was between pain and pleasure, lost in a fog where only hands, mouths, and the heat of so many bodies on top of mine existed. They pounded into me hard, laughed, whispered things in my ear, and I answered with moans that were swallowed every time they filled my mouth again.

***

Hours passed, or so it seemed to me. I’d completely lost all sense of time. At one point I asked them for what I myself couldn’t believe I was asking for: that the three of them try me at once. Bruno settled behind me, and between the pressure and the burning I let out a whimper that was quickly silenced by one of the others.

At first I wanted to stop. It was too much. But something in me surrendered to that excess, and I even started enjoying the discomfort. I had three of them taking care of me while I used my hands on the other two waiting. Not a single inch of my body was untouched.

I felt like the mistress of the night and, at the same time, completely given over. That contradiction was the hottest thing of all. They took turns without stopping, and all I wanted was for it to last, for that feeling of being desired by all of them at once to never end.

When they couldn’t take any more, they asked me to kneel in the middle of the living room. I obeyed at once, still breathless, hair stuck to my face and a smile I couldn’t hide. They arranged themselves around me and I let them finish on me, one after another, taking them as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Afterward I sat on the floor for a while, laughing to myself, hardly able to believe what had just happened. I cleaned up, got dressed slowly, and said goodbye to each of them with a kiss. None of them said much. There was no need.

***

I went out into the street with my legs still weak and my whole body buzzing. I thought the night was over, but fate had another idea.

When I got to my building I ran into Damián, a neighbor who had always looked at me a little too much. He was standing by the door, smoking, and greeted me with that crooked smile I had ignored so many times. That night, though, my body was still lit up and I had no intention of stopping.

—Want to come up for a drink? —he asked, with barely any hope.

—Sure —I answered, and watched his face light up.

As soon as we closed the door to his apartment he kissed me like he’d been imagining it for months. And he probably had. I gave him everything I could tell he’d been keeping in his head, without reservations, letting myself be carried away by the desire I still had left.

He laid me down on his bed, put my legs over his shoulders, and finished what he’d started with an intensity I hadn’t expected from him. I let him come, and only then did I allow myself that final release the whole night had been promising me.

I stayed over at his place. The next morning I woke up, said goodbye with a kiss, and went back to my apartment as if nothing had happened. Damián and I still see each other from time to time, when life lets us. We each went our own way afterward, but we still look for each other every now and then.

I never heard much about those six again, and maybe that’s for the best. That night was exactly what I needed at that moment in my life: a crack opening onto something I’d never dared to imagine out loud. But that, like so many others, is a story for another day.