This weekend, our group took a trip to one of the neighboring islands. We went on a boat tour around the island reefs, and we could get out at each spot and snorkel around a bit. We saw some bright blue fish at one point, and the guide told us that they could switch gender at will. Male to female and back.

See – if I could do anything in the world, I’d want to do that. Not just because I want to screw people with a penis, but because I feel like my mentality is very in-between that of a stereotypical guy and a stereotypical girl. I can’t spend excessive amounts of time around only my gender. Sometimes I just want to bro-out with the guys. But as Cute-Tripmate said, what defines ‘bro-ing out’ is that no girls are around. And sometimes I think he’s right. When I’m around a group of guy friends, I can practically feel the dynamic shift.

I had spent most of the day with the girls, since we had been grouped into rooms by gender (sigh). But by late afternoon I was pretty girled-out. I mean, one can only take so much shopping, gossipping, and taking ages to get ready. So I sought out Cute-Tripmate and Roommate (all the other guys had cancelled, for some reason). They were off to get alcohol and drink on the beach for the rest of the afternoon. Very creative.

I walked with them to the convenience store to get the alcohol. On the way back to the hotel (which was right next to the beach), Cute-Tripmate’s comments got increasingly lewd and playful… and he was including Roommate in what he said. Saying ‘us’ instead of ‘me.’ He wasn’t just hitting on me, he was hitting on me on behalf of the both of them.

Talk about slipping standards. Have I said before that I don’t find Roommate remotely attractive?

We made vodka-cranberries and stood on the beach drinking them, watching the sunset and talking. I began to feel less and less in control. If we hooked up, I wanted it to be on my terms, not theirs. My insecurity was probably why I suddenly felt the urge to push Cute-Tripmate around a little; getting him to go back to the room and make me another drink once my glass was empty.

(Cute-Tripmate is the kind of person who usually does the pushing around, which doesn’t really bother me, except that I really want to… break that dominance, in some way. Probably in bed.)

My insecurities stretched and writhed. I began wondering if they saw me as easy – cheap – and if that was the reason they were trying this on me. If that was the reason they hung out with me in the first place. Because of the vodka (ever the tongue-looser), I spilled some of my thoughts to them, saying that I sometimes wished I was like the other girls on the trip. Friendly, outgoing. Treated sex with considerbly more… weight than I did.

But then Cute-Tripmate said something to me which pretty much made me stop doubting him, and whether he accepted me or not, for good:

I don’t talk to you because you’re horny, I talk to you because you’re a real person. Trust me, you don’t want to be like the other people on this trip.

Eventually we ended up back in their room. I’m about to leave because I need to shower. Cute-Tripmate says I can just shower there. They have two-in-one shampoo-conditioner, he says. (Two-in-one hair products. Honestly, men ~ )

I obviously know what’s going to happen if I stay. But part of me wants… needs… craves to be touched. Craves the attention. So after a few minutes of casual consideration, I take the bottle of shampoo-conditioner and go into the bathroom. I close the door but don’t lock it.

I strip and pull the shower curtain across, then revel in the warm water for a while before rubbing the product into my hair. Eventually – what do you know – someone opens the door and I hear Roommate’s voice right on the other side of the curtain.

Him: Can I come in?
Me: Sure, but I… I won’t necessarily… do anything with you.

- which was true. I was fine with him coming into the shower but didn’t know if I actually felt like doing anything sexual with him, yet. 

He joins me in the shower and uses the water while I wash my hair. I’m oddly comfortable being naked with him. A companiable kind of nakedness, you could call it. Almost like being naked with your sibling when you were kids; or with your friend in the public showers after going to the gym.

I finish showering before him and get out, drying off with one of the unused hotel towels. I was disappointed that Cute-Tripmate didn’t come in with us, but as I’m standing there, naked, rubbing my hair dry, he watches me from the open doorway, a big grin on his face.

Still – nothing happens. I clothe myself and the three of us end up on Roommate’s big bed, pretending to watch television. I have one guy on either side of me, both wearing only boxers. Cute-Tripmate asks if I’m wearing a bra and I say no, I’m not. He says he thought so, and then slides my skirt up to see if I have on bottoms – which I do. He lets out an ‘aww’ of disappointment.

Light touches, on my hips, and chest. And then each of them have a hand inside my shirt; groping. I can feel a difference in their touches. Cute-Tripmate cups and caresses like he means it; Roommate seems much less sure of himself.

I’m quiet and unmoving. Don’t know what to do. I want more of CT; more of his touches, but that means more of Roommate. But then I’ve wanted to be with two men for quite a while. Two sets of hands and lips probing, kissing and stroking; two cocks filling both of my holes. But no - penatrative sex with Roommate is quite out of the question.

If one of them had tried to push me further, I probably would have relented. Neither of them do. CT gets up, picks up his cigarettes and goes outside for a smoke. I turn to Roommate and ask him what’s going on.

Him: Well… basically we want to have a threesome with you, but… well with consent and everything…

Such gentlemen. His comment triggers me to action. I turn off the lights and the TV, and head outside, telling CT to come back in.

My terms, not theirs.

And then we’re all back on the bed, and I’m giggling and asking ’so what’s an Eiffel Tower, again?’ and ‘you have stuff, right? I’m not on the pill.’ And then clothes are coming off, and I’m naked and pulling CT into a deep kiss. Then I turn to face Roommate, who licks and sucks my chest. I’m busily running my hands over both of them. Cupping their hardening cocks. I feel so wanted.

Roommate tentatively touches me there and I’m wet already. I smirk at CT over Roommate’s head, who gives me an answering mischevious smile. He gets it. I pull at Roommate’s boxers and he complies. He lays on his back and I start licking him, crouched over, and CT moves behind me.

Have you ever had sex that didn’t feel… sexual? That’s how I feel as I slide Roommate’s dick into my mouth. I don’t feel like I’m giving head, I feel like I’m… putting a penis in my mouth. Seduction stripped to its bare anatomy. I feel like I’m doing something as ordinary and mundane as shaking somebody’s hand, or eating a spoonful of food. At the same time, the mundanity is somehow significant. As in – I know you, and I feel comfortable enough with you to do this without it being awkward or unpleasant. Almost like a bonding experience.

And then CT begins to touch me and all my attention is snatched away and slapped onto CT’s fingers probing my cunt. And then he’s – god, yes – pushing his long, hard tool inside me. I’m pushing back to meet his thrusts. I’m listening to him pant. I’m opening my mouth to moan as he hits something deep and wonderful inside me, letting Roommate’s penis drop before I quickly remember it again.

I feel a little bad about not paying full attention to the blowjob I’m giving. Getting fucked from behind can be somewhat… distracting. I try to may more attention – wrapping my hand around the base and relaxing my throat.

CT comes out of me a few times and has to re-enter me again. More moans. He’s gripping, squeezing my ass and bending over to nip and kiss my shoulders. I want more of him. I want to kiss him over my shoulder, but I don’t. Can’t.

No noise except incoherencies as the three of us focus on orgasming. Roommate is first – coming in my mouth with a gasp. He goes to get cleaned up and CT stops what he’s doing. Then I’m sitting up and he’s offering me water. And then he’s laying down.

I drink the water and then flop down on top of him.

Me: You didn’t… finish, did you?
Him: No…
Me: Isn’t that a… problem?
Him: No, I’m just like that sometimes.

I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. I can’t be sure if I came or not. I probably did – or almost. I want to keep going. I felt a surge of combined relief and guilt when Roommate finished, thinking finally now I can just focus completely on CT.

Didn’t happen. Somehow, somebody realizes that it’s twenty minutes before we have to go for dinner, which results in a flurry of movement. The boys effortlessly throw on their going-out clothes. I pull my beach-clothes on and – shit! – I still have to go and actually condition my hair. I’m heading towards the door when someone knocks on it. It’s our professor – a sweet, little middle-aged lady – who’s telling us that the car is ready and we need to leave now. I somehow manage to talk to her with a straight face, like I wasn’t just in bed screwing two guys, and run back to the girls’ room, showering and dressing in record time.

I sit through dinner feeling extremely amused. I sit next to CT and Roommate on one side of the big square table, and they treat me with warmth. I almost feel like they’re temporarily including me in their bromance/BFF-ness. We taste each other’s food and cocktails. I’m still slightly tipsy and out of it, so I’m being quiet, but CT shoots random comments and smiles at me throughout the evening.

Later, one of the girls tells me that they all napped for the rest of the afternoon. She asks what I had been doing.

“Oh, nothing,” I say. “Just hanging out with the guys.”