Chapter 217 - 216 : Nightclub

Chapter 217: Chapter 216 : Nightclub

Evening – 6:45 p.m.

The wooden floor of the narrow balcony was cool beneath their bare skin. The city stretched out below them in soft orange light, the first lights flickering on one by one. The gap between their two apartments was only a few feet, and the evening breeze carried the faint smell of distant rain and grilled street food.

Jennifer was leaning back against Haruto’s chest, completely naked. Her long brown hair spilled over his shoulder. She held a small white cup of coffee in her hands, the steam rising slowly between them. Haruto sat behind her, legs stretched out, one arm loosely around her waist, his thick cock resting soft but heavy against her lower back.

They sipped their coffee in comfortable silence for a while, the warm liquid and the warmth of their naked bodies creating a strangely intimate atmosphere.

Finally Haruto spoke, his voice low and curious.

"How did you get infected with Herpes (HSV)?"

Jennifer was quiet for a long moment. She took a slow sip of coffee, then set the cup down on the floor beside her.

"If I tell you," she said softly, "you will probably hate me."

Haruto tightened his arm around her gently.

"No. I won’t hate you. Tell me."

Jennifer turned her head slightly so she could see his face.

Back then in her home country, she used to go out a lot.

Every Friday and Saturday night, she and her group of friends would go to the loudest nightclubs in the city. They would dance until their feet hurt, drink strong cocktails, laugh loudly, and forget about everything for a few hours. She loved that energy — the music, the lights, the way people looked at her, the freedom of being young and single.

One particular night was burned into her memory.

It was a Friday in late summer. The club was packed. The bass was so heavy the floor vibrated under her feet. Jennifer had drunk quite a lot — three strong cocktails and two shots of something that burned her throat. Her friends had left her to dance alone while they went to the bathroom or got more drinks.

She was in the middle of the dance floor, hips swaying to the music, when a drunk man suddenly reached out and grabbed her breasts from behind. His hands were rough, squeezing her hard through her thin top. Jennifer laughed at first, thinking it was funny, but the man didn’t let go.

He pulled her back against his chest and whispered something into her ear.

She was already drunk. Very drunk.

He guided her through the crowd toward the toilets, his hand still on her breast, his other hand on her waist. She went with him because she was too drunk to think clearly and because she was curious what he wanted.

When they reached the narrow hallway behind the toilets, the man turned her around and pushed her to stand in front of a dirty sink.

"Put your hands on the counter," he said, voice slurred.

Jennifer obeyed, her heart starting to race. She felt the man behind her.

Then he pulled her panties down roughly.

The cold air hit her bare ass. She felt something hard and thick press against her pussy from behind.

The man didn’t even bother with condom or asking. He simply thrust forward.

His cock slammed into her all the way in one brutal push.

Jennifer cried out, but the sound was swallowed by the loud music from the club. She was so drunk she didn’t even know his face. She only felt the pain and the overwhelming fullness of a man’s cock tearing into her for the first time.

He started fucking her hard — deep, fast, punishing strokes. The wet slapping sound of his hips against her ass echoed in the narrow hallway. Every thrust pushed her forward against the sink. Her breasts bounced wildly. The man grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, using her as his personal toy.

He fucked her like that for a long time — hard, rough, and completely rough. Jennifer’s drunk mind was barely keeping up. She felt pain, but also something dark and forbidden that made her wetter than she wanted to admit. She moaned loudly, her voice echoing off the tiles, completely lost in the sensation.

The man fucked her until he could hold back no longer.

With a loud groan he buried himself to the hilt and came inside her. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded her womb. He kept pumping until the condom was full, then pulled out with a wet sound.

As he stepped back, Jennifer stayed standing in front of the sink, her panties around her ankles, her pussy gaping and leaking his cum in thick white streams that ran down her thighs. The man zipped up, gave her a careless pat on the ass, and walked away without saying another word.

Jennifer stayed there for a long time, breathing hard, cum slowly dripping from her pussy onto the dirty floor.

She never saw his face.

She never knew his name.

But she knew the feeling of a stranger’s cum inside her and the way her body had betrayed her by getting wet.

When she finally pulled her panties up, the cum was still leaking. She walked out of the club with a strange, empty feeling in her chest and the sticky warmth of his load still inside her.

That was the night she got infected.

The virus had entered her body that night.

And it had never left.

After the club, Jennifer had taken a taxi home alone. She was still drunk, her body buzzing from the rough fuck in the toilet hallway. When she finally reached her small apartment, she didn’t shower. She stripped, crawled straight into bed, and fell asleep with her thighs still sticky, the cum from the stranger slowly drying on her skin.

That night her pussy started to itch.

It wasn’t a normal itch. It burned. It felt like tiny needles under the skin. She scratched it for a while, then stopped, thinking it was just the alcohol and the rough sex. She fell asleep with the discomfort growing stronger every hour.

The next morning the itching had spread. Her vulva was red, swollen, and hot. She had to wear loose clothes to go to class. She told herself it was just a reaction. She didn’t think much of it.

The habit she had picked up in the club only grew stronger. ℴ

She started going every weekend. Sometimes with her friends, sometimes alone. She loved the power of it — being taken by strangers, being used, being filled and left dripping. The rough sex in the toilets became a ritual. She would get drunk, get grabbed, get fucked against the sink or bent over the balcony railing, and leave the club with her pussy still leaking and her mind spinning.

Her entire friend circle got pulled into it.

The group of seven — three girls and four boys — started sleeping together whenever they had the chance. In college dorms, in cheap hotels, in the back of cars. Sex became normal. It was just another way to spend the night. They didn’t care about protection. They didn’t care about the risks. They just wanted the thrill.

And one by one, they all got infected.

Jennifer was the first. The stranger in the toilet hallway had passed it to her without her even knowing. Then her best friend got it from her. Then the next boy. Then the girl who had slept with her boyfriend. The virus spread like wildfire through their small, reckless circle.

They never told anyone. They just continued fucking, fucking, fucking, pretending it was nothing.

By the time they were all diagnosed, Jennifer had already nearly finished her medical degree and was applying for internships abroad. She lied on every form. She said she was clean. She said she had never had herpes.

The day she got the positive result, something inside her broke.

She stopped going out completely.

She stopped sleeping with anyone.

She stopped the casual sex that had defined her college years. The moment the test came back positive, she chose safety over pleasure. She chose the risk of being alone over the risk of spreading the virus.

She focused only on her studies. She graduated with top marks. She took the best internship offer she could find — a competitive program in a foreign country. And the night before she left, she got tested again to make sure the virus was still hidden.

The result was still positive.

She never told anyone.

She never let anyone touch her again.

And she never went back to the club.

Jennifer Winslate, the wild girl from the nightclubs, disappeared completely.

She left her old life behind.

And the virus stayed with her — silent, hidden, and waiting.

The storm outside had grown much stronger.

But inside the quiet apartment, Haruto and Jennifer sat side by side on the balcony floor, sipping coffee, completely naked, their bodies still warm.