It was almost 3am and the lights were oppressive and dizzying.
The edible I’d taken earlier was washing over my body, my fingers relaxing around a solo cup of shitty beer.
Around me, bodies moved and swayed to thumping house music. Somewhere among them was my friend who dragged me here, swearing up and down that she wouldn’t ditch me. She really meant well, but after I’d taken the edible, she disappeared among the crowd, leaving me to sit awkwardly on the living room’s only couch.
It took some concentration, but I managed to set the beer carefully on the floor. Through the haze of my high, I tried to understand how to get away from the blinding fluorescents that this idiot had in his apartment. A few groggy moments later, I saw someone leave the bathroom down the hall.
I had to convince myself to stand, but once I got that handled, I headed toward the bathroom. I turned out the lights, and closed the door, sitting on the toilet lid. With the music slightly muffled and the lights off, the dizziness subsided.
After a few minutes in the cool dark, I stood up and turned the lights on. I looked at myself in the mirror – my ponytail was off to the side, somehow. I reached up to fix it, tightening it towards the back of my head. I splashed some cold water on my face.
The door clicked open.
Not knowing what to do, I just stared at the startled guy who had just walked in. He let out a small, awkward laugh.
“The door wasn’t locked!”
I laughed with him instinctively, realizing that I was high and hadn’t locked it.
“Yeah, good thing I was just fixing my hair!”
“What do you mean, fixing?” He looked me up and down. “It looks great.”
“Thanks,” I said, then paused, waiting for him to leave.
Instead, he pulled the door shut behind himself, and locked it.
“What’re you doing?” I asked, turning my back to the mirror. The bathroom was small, and we were basically face-to-face. I could smell the beer on his breath.
“Showing you how the lock works.” He reached up and pushed a stray strand behind my ear. I pulled away at the unfamiliar touch, but couldn’t help but blush slightly.
He laughed softly, stepping closer to me, my lower back pressing against the counter as I backed away. He put his hand on my shoulder, letting it slide across my skin to the back of my neck, wrapping around my ponytail.
“Where are you going?” he whispered into my ear, barely audible over the dampened music from outside.
He pulled back on my hair, forcing me to arch against the counter. His other hand traced slowly down my throat, between my breasts, toward my stomach. I felt my heart beating loudly in my ears. As he reached down and cupped my crotch through my shorts, I gasped slightly.
“I don’t even know you…” I managed to mumble, making him laugh again. He had an oddly pleasing crooked smile. He kept me bent backwards with his hold on my hair, casually undoing my shorts with one hand. It only took a moment, but it felt like an eternity as he slipped his fingers into my panties.
He looked confidently into my eyes as he pressed his fingers into me, sliding up and down between my lips. I stared back, into his blue eyes, too high to understand if I was enjoying this or not. My quick breath, the anxious heart pounding, the haze of the weed felt like a no. The tingly electricity of every touch felt like an obvious yes. The pressure of his fingers dipping into me, entering my body, while he pulled my hair was making me so fucking wet.
As he curled his fingers inside of me, I let out a moan. That was apparently what he needed to hear, as he let go of my hair, straddling against me, pinning me to the counter with his body. His bulge pressed against my leg. He started to finger me faster. His teeth grazed my neck deliciously.
As suddenly as he’d entered me, he pulled away, grabbing my head with both hands, pushing me down onto my knees. Holding me there with one hand, he undid his pants, freeing his hard cock. I didn’t need to think. High, horny, and with a thick dick in front of my face, I took it into my mouth.
He moaned at my eagerness, which made my pussy throb. He wrapped his hand around my ponytail again, guiding me as I sucked his dick. The smell of him was intoxicating. I stroked the base as I focused on working my tongue, letting him control the slow thrusting in and out of my mouth.
He pulled my face against him, forcing me to throat his cock, my nose pressed against his pelvis. I pushed my hands against his legs, but he held me there, and I started to gag. He held me for a few, very long moments, as I struggled to pull away, until he finally let me free. I could take one short gasp for air before he thrusted in again.
Holding my hair with one hand and my chin with the other, he really started fucking my face. Short, hard thrusts, as I drooled and gasped. Spit ran down my chin. My head knocked against the bathroom cabinet a few times, until he adjusted his grip, placing his hand between it and my head. With every groan that came out of his mouth, I became more and more determined to make him cum.
I grabbed at his hips, pulling my face against him, taking his cock deeper. His movements were getting jerky and desperate, I could taste the pre-cum on my tongue, and I wanted more. Putting my arms around the back of his legs, I pulled him into me, leaning against the cabinet and taking him as far into my throat as I could.
With a few shaky thrusts, he growled out, “good… fucking… girl…” as he poured his load into my throat. Encouraged, I kept going, milking every fucking drop I could out of his cock. He wrenched me off of him using my hair, looking down at me, dazed.
“So, that’s how the lock works, huh?” I laughed, wiping drool off of my chin. I held out my hand, and he helped me up, my legs a little wobbly from the weed. “I… need to lay down.”
Without checking to see how he responded, I let myself back out into the bright-ass light of the party, closing the door on him and stumbling into the crowd.