Chapter Text
Not one face around you is recognizable. It’s two in the morning and the music in the club is so loud that there’s no point in trying to call the names of the friends you arrived here with.
It’s your birthday, but you have avoided the number-pin even though your best friend Hannah had brought one along to the dinner party earlier. It had been Hannah’s idea to go clubbing, telling you to enjoy your youth like a normal person, and now, five drinks down, you’re beginning to see what she meant: You feel amazing, giggly, happy beyond belief despite being lost from your group.
You attribute it to not being shy about dancing alone. With arms above your head and an overly expensive drink in your right hand, you spin around and around as the music moves through the crowd of people around you. There are eyes on you for sure.
Suddenly, you can feel a particular set of eyes on you. You twist your body to draw more attention, sipping your drink from its straw briefly before swaying your hips. The eyes don’t go away.
You feel a tap on your shoulder. It’s a man, a lot older than you and looking out of place in his leather jacket that he must be boiling in. He kind of looks like a narc too, but you have nothing to hide.
“Come to take me away, officer?” You lean close to shout it in his ear. He pulls back to look at your face afterward, one eyebrow cocked at your easy deciphering of him.
“Javi,” he replies whilst holding your gaze as if that’ll help you hear him.
“What?!”
“I’m Javi, and — and I’m not on duty!”
“Bullshit!” You grin at him, still dancing.
“I swear!” He laughs and rolls his eyes.
The brief gesture gives you less than a second to give him a once-over, but you’re not disappointed by what you are seeing; tight denim pants, ass hugged by them just right, strong hands, aviator glasses hanging from his shirt underneath the leather jacket.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Are you going to dance with me?”
Someone brushes past him, accidentally pushing him a step closer to you. The booze makes you confident. You reach out with both hands to hook your fingers into his belt loops, tugging him even closer to you. This’ll be your birthday present to yourself.
You start dancing then. He isn’t as drunk as you, having to catch you by your wrist several times to keep you from falling into other people around you. It’s almost too warm to be in the arms of someone wearing a leather jacket, but you revel in the sweaty ecstasy that is getting his attention.
During a slower dance hit, you turn your back to him and fall against his chest. You sip the rest of your drink, swallowing the thick liquid before resting your head on his shoulder and raising one hand up to cup his cheek beside your head.
You sway with him, electricity shooting up your spine as he rests his palms on your hips. He grips them hard, and there it is; his hard length presses into the small of your back. At first, you thought it was his belt buckle but now you’re certain and your mouth is completely dry. Why had you already finished your drink?
The song fades into another club remix. You spin around in Javier’s arms once again until you can catch his eyes, sending him a playful smile as you take a step away from him. He tries to follow.
To your right, a young man is dancing with his back toward you, wearing a horrendous short-sleeved hoodie. Without thinking, you place your empty plastic cup in the hood and widen your eyes at what you’ve done. Javier laughs in surprise, grabs you by the hand, and pulls you further into the crowd.
He doesn’t let go of your hand again and you don’t mind; you’ll give yourself completely to him tonight. You don’t need to know a thing about him, letting yourself have the freedom to make up stuff about him in your head that causes a mess in your panties.
For the night, you are his.
You have always believed that love took time. That giving yourself to another person was the hardest thing one could ever do, and that the process was a slow one in case of everything crashing and burning if you build it up too quickly. But feeling his warm fingers entwine with yours, holding onto you tightly as you spin around in the strobe lights, you’re so certain that you’d worship the ground beneath his feet even if you weren’t drunk.
He isn’t smiling at you like you are at him, but his eyes are so intense that you think you might pass out if he dares to look away. He tugs you closer, hands sliding up your arms until he holds you by your elbows.
Light surrounds the dance floor, flashing in time with the bass. The music is coming to a crescendo, and you know it’s coming when your chests touch.
Javier kisses you whilst people around you are jumping along to the music. His lips are warm, his taste is whiskey and cigarettes and it mixes with your fruity drinks. You let your hands slide up his arms, settling on his shoulders before linking around his neck. You press flush against him, kissing him like you’re seventeen again and you’ve snuck out.
He places a foot between your legs, deepens the kiss, and makes your head swim when his tongue slides into your mouth. His mustache tickles slightly, his strong hands connect behind your back and his pelvis pushes into yours. It feels like a movie, too cliche to be real, and it causes a sort of anxiety at the thought of letting go of him in case he fades into the shoal of strangers.
When he finally pulls away for air, you find yourself unable to stop the giggle that bubbles up in your throat. He is too handsome for his own good, and he has chosen you amongst everyone else.
You make a decision. Dragging him by his hand, you lead him to the women’s restrooms at the far side of the club and only hope that it isn’t too crowded inside. He gives you a look, something playful and sensual, a nod, the green light.
The music fades to a dull and repetitive booming noise as you close the door behind you. There’s only a little handful of people by the sinks, but they scurry away and head back to the dance floor as soon as they realize what you’re about to do with the tall, handsome stranger.
“I’ve never fucked a guy with a mustache,” you giggle drunkenly as he kisses you again.
“What?” Javier laughs in disbelief against your mouth.
“You heard me,” you pull away, still having him by the hand as you examine each stall to find the least disgusting one. When you make the choice, he is the one to push you inside of it and close the door behind the both of you. The lock clicks.
“Guess we better change that,” he smirks and pushes you against the almost completely white wall. He obscenely grabs the globes of your ass with both hands, pulls you against his clothed erection.
You slide your hands into his back pockets, kiss him, and he slides a hand down your thigh to the hem of your dress to pull it up. It rests around your hips, revealing your g-string.
The kiss continues. Javier’s hand swats your naked ass, a half-moan half-yelp from you escaping into his mouth.
“Do you have a condom?” You interrupt, breathless after another heated kiss.
“Yeah— yeah, hold on.”
With your hands still in his jean pockets, he reaches into the pocket of his leather jacket. He holds the condom between his middle- and index finger, presenting it to you and, hurriedly, you start undoing his belt and jeans.
When you finally get to his cock, it is bigger than you had thought when you had felt it against your back, absolutely gorgeous too, and girthy in your hand. You treat yourself to stroking him a few times and tracing a vein with your fingertip before it gets wrapped.
“Fuuuck,” he moans, looking down between you to see you place the condom over his tip. He is already dripping precome from having been pressed against you on the dance floor.
“You’re so big,” you praise when you finally roll the condom onto him and settle it at the base. He is itching to touch you, hands not quite knowing what to do as he waits for you to tell him to go on.
The noise he makes when you turn your back to him tells you everything you need to know.
“Dirty girl,” he mumbles absentmindedly.
His non-dominant hand pushes at your shoulder, pressing your front into the stall wall. The other drags your underwear down, causing a shiver to rack up your spine as you feel your cunt getting exposed. You push your ass back just a little, arch your back to line up with his dick.
Your seam is soaked, the anticipation having done its job of getting you wet. Javier guides his cock into you and holds onto the base of his dick to make sure the condom stays on.
You shudder with a soft sound at first, but then mewl when he pokes the very back of your pussy. He stretches you out deliciously. The alcohol in your blood saves you the slight sting that you bet he normally would cause.
“Okay?” He asks, both hands finding your waist but not moving yet. He has bottomed out inside of you, buried himself to the hilt in your fluttering cunt and you think you might lose it if he doesn’t slam into you soon.
“Please,” you plead, resting your forehead against the wall and grabbing at the top of it for purchase, “Fuck, I— I need you to make it hurt.”
Javier’s breath hitches in his throat at that. His fingers dig roughly into the plump flesh of your hips and he draws back only to snap forward again, causing the both of you to groan. It starts a brutal rhythm that has you choking on air.
The sound of Javier’s thighs slamming into your ass echoes through the public restroom. You think it might be your intoxication that’s making you louder than normal, but with your brain being foggy from getting fucked by the older stranger, you think it might actually be because no one has ever fitted inside if you so perfectly.
It’s the way that when he draws back and yanks you back down his length, he hits your g-spot without fail. His dick slides over it every damn time, your climax steadily building with every move of him inside you.
He bumps your cervix once, and one of your hands’ grip slips, and you cannot concentrate enough to reach up again. You place the flat of your palm against the surface, eyebrows furrowed and mouth hanging open in a contorted expression of pleasure and pain. Anyone can walk in, but you are safe in your own little box.
“Knew it had to be you, ah, shit , you— you looked so devilish with those sinful hips and those tits bouncing in your dress,” Javier growls behind you, hands groping along your ass and thighs. He sounds out of breath, hips stuttering slightly and you begin to move with him to slow him down before it’s over too soon.
Both his arms slide around to your front, locking around your chest and stomach so he can grind himself deeper into your cunt. He rests his chin on your shoulder, pants into your ear, “Knew I needed you to come on my dick.”
“Harder,” you beg with your eyes screwed shut. You swirl your hips with his, urging him to work with you so you can feel him pound your cervix again. He presses the hand on your stomach inwards to avoid you slipping away from him, barely pulling out anymore as he pounds you.
“Chica sucia,” he places an open-mouthed kiss on your shoulder, “Want you to feel me in the morning.”
“ Ngh , ah , Javi,” you want to come, need it so bad when he says things like that and bruises you from the inside, “Touch my clit. Please, please .”
His rough hand goes down the smooth skin of your stomach. Two fingers slide through your folds at first to feel where the two of you are connected, then they trace your labia to feel just how far stretched you are around his dick. It makes him moan low in his throat, and you whimper in frustration at him avoiding your clit.
“Fuck!” You yell so loudly when he finally rubs you off in earnest that even if someone did enter the bathroom, you would be too lost in the feeling of Javier trying to make you come.
It happens not a moment later. You arch your back, reach down between your legs to hold onto Javier’s wrist as you feel his unrelenting fingers rub your clit through your high. Your cunt spasms, sucks him in, and becomes tighter as he tries to continue pushing into you. It feels intense.
You wrestle out of his arms after you feel like you’re not going to trip and fall. He slips out of you, but before you can complain you’ve spun around and gotten down on your knees, “Are you clean?”
“What?” He looks as brain-fogged as you feel.
“Clean?”
“Right, uh, yes, I get checked pretty often,” he looks down at you with a string of swears leaving his mouth.
You accept his answer. Then you discard the condom and take him into your mouth. He tastes of salt and sweat. You bob your head eagerly, cheeks hollowing on each draw of your lips over his length.
A hand rests on the back of your head. His hips snap forward as he becomes a little too enthusiastic, making you gag wetly as the head nudges the back of your throat.
It doesn’t take him long to reach his climax after that. He spills himself on the back of your tongue, filling your mouth with thick ropes of warm come and you curl your tongue to push it back into your throat. You swallow around the head of his dick, relishing in the way he hisses above you.
“Fuck, you are incredible,” he says as he tries steadying his breath again.
You rise up from the floor once more, pulling your underwear with you as they have slipped all the way down to your feet. You tug your dress down after, wiggling your ass as you adjust it properly.
“Thanks, Papi,” you say with a grin as you exit the stall, leaving him to clean up the mess.