A Pornceptual Short story


By Pimenta Cítrica

I’m nervous. Why am I nervous? It’s not like it’s my first time. The Devil knows I could pretty much live in this party. And yet, I can feel my stomach tightening with anxiety. 

Fine, I mean, I haven’t been to the last ones, but it was not like it was my choice. The thing is, I’m back in town, it’s summer, and it’s hot as fuck, and I can feel my tights sweating underneath the black leggings. Can we just go in? I really need to take these clothes off. Maybe I am starting to regret the last three shots of vodka, because honestly, I’m heated. Also, I cannot walk a straight line.   

After what seems like forever (at least it’s not cold), we’re past the door, in. Fucking finally. I enter the building, go straight to the upstairs coat check. Everyone, outta-my-way. Spent the last two weeks working on this outfit and the world needs to see it. Or better, the party. Which, right now, same difference. As soon as we get in, I am greeted by the feel of naked bodies pushing past against me, and that familiarly strange smell of something (sex? cum? chemicals?) that only exists in Pornceptual. It has been way too long.  

The first third of the night passes by in a blur; lots of going up and down, changing dance floors, stopping by the bar because someone needs a refill, as it always seems to be the case. But then, someone says casually that we should go upstairs because some friends have just arrived and are waiting for us including, well, you. 

The information penetrates the fog I’m in, and I can feel it provoking some sort of clenching and my heart beats even faster, and fuck, it makes me feel so stupid. This is not a middle school dance, and I’m not a fourteen year old. This is so unexpected though, and I’m not in the right state of mind to deal with surprises. I have been avoiding thinking about the next time we would actually see each other on purpose, and never in a million years I thought it’d be today. 

I don’t even know what’s the big deal. People fuck all the time, and god knows, I do too. By no means I’m a celibate or new to the game, and it wasn’t like that, it wasn’t like that at all. It was rushed and sloppy, drunk making out session at a club, a clumsy blowjob in a bathroom stall, something we all credited to intoxication, something that I shrugged off as a response to everyone’s questions. Just a drunken hook up. Definitely, not at all an anticlimactic culmination of months of sexual tension and low-key flirtation. Why are you even mentioning it? 

I have no reason to think that you’d want more of it. I am overthinking again. I need another drink, I need to go dancing, I need to calm the fuck down. 

Intoxication does help. I am at this point that I can’t really shut the fuck up, but the tension makes me a little shy, so I am just trying to dance the excess of energy away. You are there, being the life of the party as usual, laughing the loudest and making a fool of yourself with your stupid dance moves. I’m sweating profusely, it is goddamn hot, and now that I’m starting to filter in, there is a lot of people fucking and I hadn’t noticed before, and fuck: I’m horny too.

I can see this guy on his knees at the edge of the dance floor, sucking some other dude’s dick out of his hot pink speedos, the muscles of his abdomen clenching a myriad of colorful tattoos. Shit, I’m staring. Okay, okay, music, dancing, that’s good. Actually correct that, the music is great and I don’t have to think about anything else right now.

Distraction works for a while, but then I nearly jump out of my skin when something cold as balls touches my bare, sweaty back. It feels like an electric shock. I jump in place, honestly not one bit gracefully at all, completely confused about what had just happened, just to see you by my side, holding a bottle of beer with the most ridiculously amused grin on your face. 

“Holy fuck, man.” 

“Sorry, sorry!” you are obviously not sorry at all. “You seemed a bit heated.” 


“Hey, how have you been, by the way?” 

“Good, good.”  

“You wanna go upstairs for a bit?” 

“Uh. Sure.”   

You go to everyone to let them know we are going upstairs and then I can hear everyone exclaiming in agreement that it sounds like a good idea. Damn, guys, read the fucking vibe. We wait some time for yet another round of drinks, form a line to go up the stairs, going past the maze of naked and semi-naked bodies grinding against each other, up to the last floor.

It’s kind of a terrace, where everyone can sit down on the floor for a cigarette, a conversation, or an exhibitionist/voyeur demonstration. By this point I can feel the glitter melting down my face. It’s a nice change of scenery, but I’m still fucking horny, and now to complicate there is no music to distract me. 

I blend in with the carpet, sucking on my cigarette like my life depends on it, head spinning. My friend pulls me into her lap, everyone is super touchy-feely, and allow myself to relax, my muscles liquefying as she massages my scalp, my eyes falling shut. 

“So how are things?” I feel the heat of your breath on my face preceding the question, and as I open my eyes I’m pretty sure they are the size of tennis balls. Your ridiculous smile is still there, and you hover above my body while my friend obliviously continues to comb my hair with her fingers, absorbed by a conversation about rent (it’s always fucking rent!) in Berlin.

I nod, momentarily impaired by shock.  

“Nice outfit by the way.” 

“Or lack there of,” I answer, arching my eyebrows up, glad to finally have my self control back. 

“Or lack thereof, indeed…” 

Your fingers trace up my sweaty upper thigh, I can feel my muscles clenching in response. I like the game, I am fucking good at the game, but it’s honestly been so long since I played it. I arch my back, my friend seems to be swept from her conversation and starts paying attention to what’s going on right in front of her.  

“Oh! Look at that,” the sexual tension ballasts like a wildfire, seemingly pulling everyone in. She leans down to kiss me on the mouth. 

Her lips are soft, supple, and cold from the drink, and I can also feel your hands holding my hips with just the right amount of pressure. The moment your tongue touches the skin of my neck I let out a little whimper, all the stimulus leaving my nerves strung out.

Conversation seems to have died out, as people took notice of what was going on. They slithered their way closer and suddenly me and all my friends were engaging in a pheromone infused kissing orgy. Someone is grabbing on my thighs, but I can still definitely distinguish your hand on the curve of my hip. My friend has switched from me to you, and now I am in the middle of a three way kiss with other people, but when we break off, you look at me with an unmistakable glint in your eyes. 

Showtime, I guess. 

“I think we have a problem with overly enthusiastic friends. Everything I want to do with you, they seem to want to join.” 

“Can’t blame them. You seem to have some good ideas.” 

The kiss is like the first one; explosive. I can feel everything at once, but this time it is better. I am more aware, I am more present, I am more myself. Our semi-naked bodies press together, while everyone is still continuing the feverish make out session, and my anxiety is boiling inside, asking me where this will go, but for one second I am actually able to appreciate how fucking perfect things are right now. 

Your teeth graze my bottom lip, and then you lick it, before diving to my neck again, biting and slurping on it as if you legit wanted to tear a piece off. I feel someone tugging on my hair, and I am pulled in for yet another kiss of many mouths, a confusion of tongues that earns the approving exclamation of a group of strangers passing by.   

From group kisses, down to the dance floor again, the music is blasting and I feel bombarded with ridiculous jitters, the types you get when you are a teenager and you have a crush at the school party and you don’t know what to do about it. I guess some things never change. 

I ask for one more G&T at the bar, and I am still distracted trying to handle all my coins when I return to the dance floor. I don’t know if everything that happened was just a product of intoxication and the environment, I don’t even know if it was all a joke, I don’t know if you actually wanted to take me upstairs to finish what we started the other day, or if you’ll try anything again tonight.    
I thought I had this under control, I wasn’t even thinking about it. Hell, I didn’t even think you’d show up tonight, I was trying to go on about my life, because god knows everything is much easier when I don’t have anyone on my mind. Less fun, maybe, probably, but still a lot easier, and I do not need this. I do not need to be crushing on a friend, I don’t need to be nervous every time you show up, I do not need to want more of what we had, but now you’re here, and you’ve kissed me, and you will not take your eyes off me, and I want it. I want it bad, all the way, can’t think of anything else. 

“Did I tell you I helped set up the thing?” 

“What thing?”  

You make a vague gesture with your hand. 

“This. The party. Pornceptual.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I helped wrapping the furniture.” 

“No shit! That’s so funny. When?”

“Yesterday! It was a lot of work. I wanna show you. C’mon.” 

You pull me by the hand, guiding me once again through the crowded dance floor. This time you are obviously quicker and sneakier, and it seems you’ve successfully left everyone else behind. I’m biting through the ice cubes of my drink, my heart feels like it’s beating inside both my temples. 

Before we even leave the dance floor though, I suddenly feel my back against the basement’s wall, as you pin my hips in place and invade my mouth with such dominating attitude I automatically go into prey mode inside my head. I can feel myself wrapping my hands around you, hanging from your neck as I suck on your tongue, feeling high at the combined sensation of your taste and the sensation of your body on mine. Everything just feels so good

“Wanna see it?”   

You whisper into my mouth and it takes me a minute to go back to reality and realize what the fuck you are even talking about. But then again, you pull me and I just go along. We get to an area just behind the dance floor, that by a miracle I had never been to before. There are two couches wrapped in black plastic. 

“See? Looks good, huh?”   

I mean, I wanted to say they just looked like they had been wrapped in plastic, but sure. Whatever. 

“It does, yeah”.   

The area is small, and it’s not so full. One of the couches still has space. You prop yourself on the protected cushion, pull me into your lap. 



It’s something I have done before many times, and it somehow feels new. The thrill of being so public is always something that gets to me, but for the most times, the excitement of the circumstances is the highlight. This time what I am doing and who I am doing it with is the main focus. Being in public, in one of my favorite places to be on earth is just the spice.   

Your hands go back to my hips, pressing me down onto your lap, my lace underwear grinding against the leather of yours. I get lost in it; sometimes I forget kissing can be this nice, I honestly wonder what has taken us so long to do this. You hold my neck, half-choking me, while running your tongue against the roof of my mouth.    

Fingers come up around my nipple pasties, hmmm, maybe I should have worn something less high-maintenance, but then again I didn’t think I would be doing this tonight. Your skin feels delicious against mine, everything is tingly, all the tension finally dissipating into sex. Our bodies move together in one motion, the tiny movements of the hips as if they had a mind of their own.   

Your hands trail down, squeezing my hips once more, before tugging at the side of my stupidly tiny underwear. I forget to breathe for one second as your fingertips sweep across my pussy and it is a fucking pool down there, it’s ridiculous. 

“My God. Someone is excited,”

I wish I could give a cheeky reply, but all I can do it is press my forehead against your shoulder, praying internally you’ll never stop ever. All coherence has left my brain by the time your pointer and middle finger trace from around my clit all the way down to my entrance. My nerves seem to come into shock and fizzle to ashes.   

You continue the torture exercise, letting your digits press tighter around the hood of my clit every time you restart the motion. I can feel my whole pussy pulsating, everything else seeming so far away. All that I can feel, all that matters is your gentle provoking touch. You tap your fingertips against my perineum, my whole labia is flooded and then you go back up, pressing one finger against my clit and holding down, relentlessly. 

“Ah!” it’s a loud, clumsy moan that probably sounds not nearly as graceful as I wish it did, but all I think of is how delightful this feels, I want to spread my legs, I want to have you inside me, I want to do so many dirty filthy things right here in front of anyone, things no one ever thought of, things I didn’t even know existed. “Oh, please…”   

One circular motion and I’m all but grinding on your lap, panting with my eyes closed totally oblivious to my surroundings. The speed picks up only a little, and I am begging for you to keep doing exactly that but also do everything else. And then, just like that, the touch goes away. My pussy still feels the burning waves of it, while you bring your fingers to your lips and lick them.   

Well fuck. 

“My turn?”   

I fall to my knees easily, and then notice that our little scene has attracted quite the gathering, more and more people falling into each other’s laps, sex everywhere. I can barely contain the shaking of my hands when I pull down the zipper on the front of your leather boxers.   

I don’t have enough coordination to mess around, I get down to business. The concrete floor is rough on my knees and that slight pinch of pain just adds to my arousal, while I slurp on your cock getting spit everywhere. This time it’ll be even better than the last one, I fucking promise, and I also wish you could reach out behind me pull my underwear down so I would be exposed to everyone here and stick that finger inside me finally, I’m so ready for it.   

The thought makes me go harder, I choke a little on your dick, but sure, let’s not get greedy. If you teased me then I’m within my right to do the same to you.   

I get up. You are a mess, hair everywhere, eyes cloudy underneath your annoyingly long eyelashes, your hard cock pressed against your glitter-covered navel.  

“C’mon. Party is still going. I don’t wanna miss it.” 

 Sometimes you have these ideas that seem equally brilliant and stupid and you just let them slide, but when you are deepin stupor, they tend to linger. Well, the thing is; party is slowly dying down, the sun is bright as fuck, it is a rare scorching hot summer day in Berlin and I just don’t want this night to be over. 

“Let’s go to a park. Or a lake. Let’s go to a lake.” 

You are in line to get a beer and you give me a look

“Well sure.” 

“No, I mean now. Let’s go now.”   

You pause for a second, chewing on your bottom lip. 

“Actually, you know what? That’s a brilliant fucking idea.” 

It doesn’t take long before we are handing our numbers to the tired coat-check staff. I half-assed put my leggings and bra on, just enough to not be arrested for indecent exposure in the U-Bahn. We hastily get out of the building, the sun harsh and cruel on our partied eyes, and make our way to the subway, trying to piece together how we can get to a lake when most of our brain cells already went to sleep.   

We get to a god forsaken sunny corner of the city, at a time in which maybe someone is walking their dog every twenty minutes. The sky is intensely blue, the grass is indecently lush. This day is so definitely summer it couldn’t be more of it if it tried, it must be over thirty degrees even though it’s not ten in the morning.    

You pull my hand towards your crotch, inside your jeans. 

“Dude! We’re in public!”   

The laugh following my comment goes on for a few seconds before you realize I’m serious.

“You’ve got to be fucking with me. We were literally just in public.” 

“I know, but this is different.”   

Because it is, you know it is. I am used to let out my craziest sexual desires come to the surface while partying with my fellow kinky peers. This is a whole other world. This is the real world. 

“Even better. You’re the one who wanted to come here!”   

Well, yes, but I didn’t exactly have a plan in place. I just… I didn’t want the night to end, is all. I’m a little ashamed and annoyed at myself that I’m acting so conservative all of a sudden, but I guess a catholic upbringing goes a long way.    

God, I don’t have it in me to explain this whole thought process right now. I just shrug. 

“You look beautiful. I’m serious, let them see.”    

You reach for my bra and I start laughing, trying to pry free from your arms, running across the grass. You run after me, managing to undo the clasp even in one movement, which seriously earns my respect. I mean, there’s really barely anyone here. 

“I’ll match you, don’t worry.”   

Soon enough you’re taking your shirt and jeans off, but that is kind of cheating, because that is not a public infraction and you know it. But then, you lie down on the grass and you look motherfucking gorgeous, it’s nervewrecking, the sun making your eyes shine. And if that wasn’t enough, you unzip your boxers again.   

I look around in a knee jerk reaction. There is a lady walking her bichon frisé somewhere down the way, but it’s very unlikely she can clearly see what is going on.   


I breathe deeply and straddle you. The sun is really blazing my skin, it’s amazing. You tug on my pasties until you can finally remove them, my pants are next. My whole body is sticky, I should be tired at this point but I’m surely not, and if you think that you’re just going to tell me what, when and where to do things that easily you’re really fucking wrong.   

We make out for a bit more before I close my eyes and shake my head to make the shame go away. I reposition myself, straddling your face, and pull my underwear to the side. You want to have sex with me in a park? Well, fine, but you’re going to have to work for it.   

It’s obviously clumsy as fuck, but the excitement, the danger, amplifies the sensation tenfold. In the back of my mind I hope we’ll have time to do this again on another occasion, when you can learn exactly how to lick and suck to please me, but I gotta say, so far you are not disappointing. 

There is nothing sexier than feeling desired
. God, this is so true. There is nothing sexier than feeling your tongue roaming around my vulva, the tip carefully probing at my clit in the middle of a park in broad daylight. There is nothing sexier than how much I feel you want to fuck me right now. I know we have to be quick, it’s a shame, but I am tense and aroused and it feels like this has been going on forever.   

So I reposition myself on your hips, reach for my fanny pack thanking fuck for my brainwave of getting a handful of condoms as soon as I got into the party, and slowly lower myself onto your cock. 

“It’s so thick,” I say, not trying to be sexy, but because it is actually straining to slide in, I can feel the burn and the resistance. 

“Take it as you can,” you reply, your voice torn and breathy. And suddenly I realize that maybe I have wanted this for longer than I was even willing to admit to myself, and there is nothing wrong with that. I am free to do as I please, I am free to go to a sex party and fuck, I am free to go to a sex party and not fuck, and I am also free to want someone as desperately as I want you and relish the fact that I’m finally having it.   

The tension, the build up, the look on your face, and the feel of your cock tearing through me, stretching my pussy from the inside, it’s all too much and not enough at the same time, my eyes falling shut as I grind my clit down on your pelvis, the excitement of our exposure, how sinful we are being, how fearless and defiant in daring to be so fucking free anywhere we please.    

You fuck me hard, holding my hips in place. I relax my muscles so I can feel every inch of your cock inside me. Goddamn it, this is perfect, you are perfect, I am going to miss your cock every minute it is not inside of me. I can’t believe we are doing this, can’t believe you had me take my clothes off right here, can’t believe you are making me moan this loud right here.  

“Choke me.”   

It starts as a demand but it ends more like a plea, and I rush to grant your wish, wrapping both my hands around your neck. I know I am small but I am a strong girl, and it’s so hot to observe your eyes rolling back into your head, your movements becoming erratic as you pull in quick and pull out so slowly, savoring the sensation of my pussy clenching around your thick, delicious cock.   

When it’s over, we can hear voices at a distance, it seems the park is slowly but surely filling up on this hot Sunday. We get dressed again, I can feel the delightful sting in between my thighs to remind me you’ve been there, left your mark.  

“Where to?” you ask me with a cheeky and yet surprisingly bashful smile. I shrug again because I don’t know. Maybe the night is still not over. I mean, summer has only begun, and it has gotten one hell of a kick start.