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My Night Out

Sometimes, I just can't control myself.

In high school I was not usually a party goer, but something enticed me this one particular time. Maybe I was just sitting around the house too much, or maybe I forgot why I usually don't go to parties. It usually ended up with my friends going home with the various people I wanted to go home with.

My instincts were telling me to not go, and as I got dressed I was regretting saying yes to my friend, Rachael. Rachael was the girl usually associated with me getting into trouble.

After a light make-up job I got in the car and headed out.

I was going to meet my friend at the party, which I also wasn't comfortable with because it meant knocking on the door to an unfamiliar place. I would have much preferred to ride with her. Luckily, when I knocked, Rachael answered.

"It's about time! Come on, I got something for you!" she told me.

I followed her to the kitchen where several guys stood around the table and talked about paint ball guns. Oh. Boy. One guy in particular stood out though; he was quiet and reserved and buff and everything I (shallowly) want in a man.

"Liviana, come on. Quit staring!" Rachael whispered to me as she poured me a shot.

I didn't realize I was staring! Did he notice? Oh Jesus, I'm awkward.

"What is this?" I asked, looking suspiciously at the shot. 

"Shut up and drink!" she said with a playful frown.

This is usually a bad phrase. Don't ever drink if someone tells you this. It tasted the way gasoline smells.

I took the shot, and then another, and another. "What am I doing?" I thought to myself. The room was starting to spin, but at that point I was in a fantastic mood!

After a few minutes of watching the guys play Call of Duty, I noticed the guy I was staring at had gone missing. I tried to casually look around for him. A quick glance around the room told me he had probably gone to the bathroom. 'Perfect,' I thought, 'I can knock on the bathroom door and that will force me to talk to him for a second!' My drunk logic was apparently quite impressive.

"Hey Chris, where's the bathroom?" I asked the house's owner.

"Right through there," he pointed without looking away from the television. "First door on the right."

I walked, or more likely stumbled, to where Chris had pointed and opened the door to a dark room. There were only two lights on. One was coming from a television that was somehow showing the game being played outside, and the other light was coming from a computer monitor lighting up the face of none other than the guy I was looking at.

I shut the door behind me and walked through the room to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me and pressed my back against it. After a few minutes of gathering up the courage to talk to him, I opened the door and sat on his lap. That's how I knew I was drunk: I would never have done anything like that sober. He took it gracefully.

"Whatcha doin'?" I asked as cutely as possible.

"Chris has a virus," he said tapping on the glass of the ancient monitor. 

The computer had all sorts of windows popping up and error messages covering the desktop.

"Jesus," I said, looking in his eyes.

"I tried running his anti-virus... Nothing."

"Did you try uninstalling the extra programs on here?"

He looked at me, a bit shocked that I even knew words pertaining to computers. He didn't realize that since I had grown up around boys all the time, all their computer jargon had rubbed off on me.

I didn't say anything, but I could feel a bulge starting to rise in his pants. In no way was I complaining though. So there we sat for about thirty minutes; me on his lap helping him clean this guys computer.

I say thirty minutes because after that the direction started to move away from computer cleaning and toward something else. His hand, which was previously on my back, started working its way down to my pants. He played with my thong, which was sticking out, for a bit and then slowly slid his hand into my pants and onto my ass. His fingernails lightly grazed my cheeks as he rans his fingers along. I did my best not to react. I doubt I did a good job but I wouldn't know because at that exact second who walked in, but Rachael.

"Oh, there you are," she said. I use the term "said" loosely. Her words were slurred and her eyes were half closed.

"I'm just going to pass out in here. Is that cool?"

She managed to spit those words out just before taking her shirt off and climbing into the bed.

"How much did she drink?" the guy asked.

"I don't really know, but I assume... ya know, a LOT". I looked at her in the bed, totally unconscious. In retrospect maybe I should have taken her home, but her topless and his hand on my ass had turned me on. I'm sure it turned him on too, because her tits are MASSIVE.

We both shrugged and he looked back at the computer, his face right next to mine, and I kissed him. I pulled back, surprised at myself, but then he kissed me.

Then he kissed me again. We embraced and made out for a significant length of time. I can't give an estimate on the duration, because I have no idea. Could have been five minutes, could have been five days. Then I took him by the hand to the bed where Rachael was passed out. She was at the head of the bed, so I figured we wouldn't disturb her as long as we stayed at the foot.

I pushed him gently on the bed and sat on his lap. I put one hand on his chest, and with the other I gathered my hair up to keep it out of my face and used my hips to grind on his dick, which was amazingly hard at this point. He put his hands on my legs and closed his eyes. I took the opportunity to take my shirt off.

He reached up for my tits and grabbed a handful, massaging them firmly. It was glorious. I moaned quite loud, but put a hand over my mouth. We froze for a second. No one stirred from Call of Duty outside, and Rachael still slept. We both sighed. As much as I didn't want the guys outside to see me topless, I really didn't want Rachael to see me fucking some guy.

I slowly unmounted him and unzipped his jeans. I pulled his cock out through the zipper and took it in my mouth. I moved my head up and down, licking his head with my tongue. He quietly moaned and ran his fingers through my hair. I took his cock down to the base and moved my tongue along his head in my mouth.

I sat up and he rolled me over. The bed bounced a bit when I laid down and we froze again. Rachael yawned and rolled over, facing the other way.

With a sigh of relief, we continued.

He slid his hand down my stomach, and unbuttoned my jeans. He stuck a hand into my pants. I waited with such nervous anticipation until his finger finally started teasing my clit. After a bit, he slid a single finger into my pussy. I clenched the sheets and my back arched up a bit. He sucked on my neck as he moved his finger slowly in and out, in and out. He brought his finger up to my lip and I sucked off all the liquid sweetness that my pussy had left on him. It was about then that we realized we needed to fuck. NOW.

I hopped off the bed, and led him by hand into bathroom.

He wasted no time. In a matter of seconds my pants and thong hit the floor and I was placed on the counter. He took his pants off pressed me against the mirror.

He put his hands against the mirror and began to pound me back against his hands. The force was amazing. I found feel the shock going through my body. He pulled himself out and I turned myself over, feet on the ground and bracing myself against the counter. He again pushed inside me and again I felt the shock waves run up my body. My tits bounced painfully against the counter, but I didn't care. His cock felt amazing inside me.

He suddenly pulled out of me.

"I'm going to cum!" he frantically whispered in my ear.

I turned around and put his dick in my mouth. My logic, aside from wanting to get cummed on, was the need to not make a huge mess. Not that it mattered because he came so hard I gagged purely on the force with which he came and spat it out onto my self. His body quaked as more cum kept spilling from his dick into my mouth and onto my chest. He pressed against my head, further putting his dick down my throat. I could feel the warmth of his cum on me and going down into my stomach.

He pulled his cock out of my mouth and sat back on the tub on the opposite wall observing me.

I sat, stunned at the sheer amount of cum dripping out of my mouth, down my chin and down to my tits. I knew what he wanted to see, so I obliged and gathered up as much cum as I could on my fingers and licked them clean.

Then a knock on the door. Again I sat frozen. Except this time, instead of topless, I was naked and covered in cum.

"Hey," a groggy voice said on the other side of the door. "I need to use the bathroom!"

It was Rachael. We both only had pants to put back on. That wouldn't cut it. Even if we did both have pants, I was still covered in jizz! He looked at me, scared. It was cute, but I was drunk so who knows.

"What do we do?" he asked. 

"Well, I need to use the shower, and you need to finish me," I told the guy.

He nodded and I got in the shower and turned the water on. Before he got in he unlocked the door to let Rachel in.

I watched from behind the privacy glass on the door as Rachael stumbled over to the toilet, pulled her shorts off and sat down. Her head slumped over and I'm pretty sure she fell asleep.

I began rinsing the excess cum off my stomach and what little had dripped down to my pussy. I felt the guys hands spin me around and press me against the side of the shower. He leaned down and started licking my pussy, exploring every crevice and fold with his tongue. I could barely stand. He stopped licking me and used his finger to furiously rub my clit. I did my best not to moan, but I could only do so much. I let out a little squeak.

This time, the guy didn't stop or look around to see if someone was watching. Luckily I think Rachael had again passed out. He continued to rub my pussy and I massaged my tits. When I felt it coming I sank to a sitting position. My knees couldn't take it any more. Then I came. And I came and I came. It the most intense orgasm I had felt to date. It was like an immediate spike of orgasmic energy that didn't stop for at least forty-five seconds.

As I laid there in the tub, quivering with water falling onto me, the guy got up, smiled, and exited the shower. Rachael had apparently made her way back to the bed, her shorts still sitting on the floor.

When I finally got the strength to stand up I turned off the now cold water, and peeked out of the shower. His pants were off the floor and a wet towel sat in their place, a small puddle of cum next to it.

I dried off with a fresh towel and put my thong and pants on. I peeked out of the bathroom door to the dark room. The computer was off, but the video game television was still shedding a bit of light on the room, bathing topless, and as of recently bottomless, Rachael in a faint blue. I found my bra and shirt, put them on regained most of my composure, and walked outside the room.

"Why are you all wet?" Chris asked.

"I um... Rachael threw up on me so I took a shower," I told him. This was extremely believable. 

A chorus of "ew" followed my pitiful explanation and everyone laughed. He wasn't out here! Where did he go?

"Hey, Sean just left. Said he had work in morning or something," Chris said without moving his eyes from the screen.

I ran outside and looked, but it was still. No car running or driving off in the distance.

Ugh. I have to admit. I was pretty upset. Not even a goodbye? Asshole.

I couldn't ask "the boys" about him. I was to embarrassed.

Rachael didn't know him, and no amount of Facebook stalking ever revealed anything. A search of "Sean" doesn't yield much in the way of helping me.

I returned to that house for parties several times after, hoping to have a similar experience. Alas, no luck. The only thing I got was good at the "Zombies" game in Call of Duty. Oh great, just what I wanted.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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